Closer to heaven

Figured I would drop a little blog to tell everyone hello. Things are going well up here. I mean I haven’t been made to squeal like a pig yet…I haven’t even heard banjo music! We closed on our house up here Friday. Work is going well. I could even say I enjoy it. I had a minute this morning so I joined the Face book group Becca started. Maybe I will check that more often. Plus, since administrators never do any REAL work, I’ll have plenty of time to check the blog. I wish someone would remind the Principal up here that we are suppose to just be drinking coffee and spying on teachers! Well, I’m off to another meeting.

Congratulations on a great SI. I really wish I could have gotten at least one more in. I am sure I would be saying that next year too though.

The Monday After Finishing BWP

I can't believe that BWP is over. I got up Monday morning and the first thing I wanted to do is write. I didn't think that I would miss it, but I do. I miss the peolpe the most. I have never had a class or workshop that would even come close to comparing with Blackwater. It was great. I wonder what everyone is doing.... sleeping late, beach trips, or just enjoying time with the kids. Me, I have been working on school stuff in the morning and then spend the day laying out by the pool in the afternoon. I know, what a life. Oh yeah, I did write Monday. Yes, it was in the journal. The only thing is that writing without a topic seemed to be much more difficult, or I may not have had as much to say. I don't know. Keep enjoying your summer.

Figured it Out!

Ok so I think I finally figured the blog thing out on the last day of BWP! Sorry I'm a little slow. BWP was a blast! I also heard our closing ceremony rocked!! I know my first blog should be long and insightful, but in the words of our beloved Matt "I'm tired of writing!"

If anyone is interested in getting together before our first official reunion,I'll be at Vito's next Friday night the 11th for a good show. I don't usually frequent Vito's unless my son's band is playing. KalvinNova.com if you want to check them out.

Really?

Um, so the first problem is that I signed into the blog and posted just a title. Really? That ignorant, huh? Now I'm editing the post, changing the title, and adding some content but confessing my ignorance, so maybe I should have just left the empty post up . . .

I like the part of Saturday Night Live's Weekend Update when Amy Poehler and Seth Meyers chastise someone by reading stuff about inappropriate behavior and say, "Really?" throughout the riff. I want to say that regularly.

Just because you can do something doesn't mean you should. Case in point: Rebecca's friend who can smoke cigarettes with his toes. Really? Yuck. Do you really want to put your feet in your mouth 'cause that's essentially what you're doing. Yuck again.

What else?

Um, I'm feeling the stress of the last real day:

• VSU evaluations to complete
• NWP evaluations to complete
• Closing Ceremonies to finalize
• poster presentations for other people to finish
• legislative letters to mail
• portfolios for other people to finish
• matching funds forms
• leadership and continuity survey
• clothes to figure out for tomorrow (not how to wear them, but what to wear)

Yikes! This list is not helping.

Ratty Refunds

Hmm, you gotta be kiddin' me...where to start! This is a great topic Rebecca!

When I worked at Ann Taylor their return policy was if you had a receipt we accepted your return. They now have time limits, merchandise must still have tags and so on, but at the time we accepted ALL returns with a receipt. This led to some very interesting returns.

There was one woman who came in the store every Thursday when we did markdowns and received new merchandise. She shopped the sale racks habitually, which would be fine if she had kept anything she bought. Each week when she came to the store she had at least three-fourths of what she had purchased the previous week. And she expected us to call other stores to find sale items in her size. When your work schedule is based around your sales, you do not want to spend three hours finding sizes at other malls around the country and requesting items through the mail, only to have them returned to the store the next week.

And then there were the people who wanted to shop at Ann Taylor who were on a Dollar General budget. Nothing wrong with Dollar General, but you probably shouldn't pay $120 for a pair of pants if that's where you can afford to shop. I frequently wanted to refer women to financial counseling. They would enter the store, well dressed, Coach bag on shoulder, jewelry flashing and peruse the racks. When it was time to pay, the transaction often went something like this.

"M'am, I'm sorry, your credit card was denied. Would you like me to call the company for you?"

"No, that's okay, I'm probably at my limit. Let's put twenty dollars on that card and put the rest on another."

I once rang up over a thousand dollars worth of clothes for a woman who proceeded to use six credit cards to pay for her purchase. Six credit cards. If you have that many cards that are at their limit, YOU DON'T NEED NEW ANN TAYLOR PANTS!!!

But back to the point, probably my favorite you gotta be kiddin' moment about working there was when a lady entered the store and approached the counter with a shoe box and receipt. Remember, if you have a receipt we accept returns. I entered her personal information and began entering the required fields from the receipt. The purchase was made over two years ago. I was annoyed, but I didn't say anything. As wealthy as some of these women were, many of them still saved their receipts, and when they cleaned out their closets, if there was an item they had not worn, they would return it years after the sale date.

So I open the shoebox expecting a pair of shoes wrapped in tissue, cardboard shapers still in toe. Instead I found a pair of strappy dress sandals, sole worn through, straps dangling, and toe imprints to show where her feet had saturated the leather with sweat. When asked why she was returning the item-

"They didn't hold up as long as I expected."

And yes, I had to refund that lovely lady her $159, plus sales tax for a pair of shoes she had worn to near nothingness. You gotta be kiddin' me.

You've Got to be Kiddin' Me!

I can remember times my grandparents told me about times that businesses cared for their customers. People weren't called account managers - they were called service representatives. When did this country change from caring about the customer to caring about the buck? Are we only a $ to them now?
I loved the day Best Buy was built here in Valdosta. The Mrs. and I didn't travel much when buying things, so normal purchases that could be made just down the street were a God-send. Everything went well for quite a while. I purchased an XBOX that ran perfectly until I pawned it. CPU software and games that ran like a dream. Movies that played with such clarity I could reach in and run my fingers through Jessica Alba's silky soft hair. Then, I bought a $70 digital camera.
My wife and I love to take pictures. To capture a moment in time and reminisce about the joy in our hearts and wonder in our eyes as we saw new and fantastic places was to be captured for all time in still-motion. On our trip to Disney World we filled that camera with a plethora of pictures ("Would you say I have a plethora of piñatas? Yes, El Gaupo!"), only to have the screen get broken/cracked on the way home; it was still under manufacture warranty (but not Best Buy's Accidental Warranty, we didn't see a need to have bought that extra $30 safety). Because the injury was accidental, Best Buy said neither they nor the manufacturer would do anything . . . to a camera not even a month old!
OK, water under the bridge as they say.
We went back a year later to buy a laptop computer. I settled on one I loved and made sure to get the warranty protection this time . . . total cost = roughly $2000. Only once during that time did I take the comp. in to be fixed, my hard-drive had cracked. I lost all the information, but it was fixed for free.
The warranty was for three years, and I was told that no matter what I did to the computer it would be fixed, and if it couldn't be fixed it would be completely replaced. Just two weeks ago it fell down three flights of concrete and steel-lined steps. Yep, it was completely busted. I mean everything was broken. The screen smashed. Keys broken off and fallen everywhere. The hard-drive even popped out and the center disc shattered (if you held it up to your ear and shook it, it sounded like a box of Rice Krispis). It was a Gateway. You know those little Gateway logos that sit on the center of the monitor? Yea, that even popped-off, and the guy said he'd never seen one of those come off before. OK, no biggie. I was still under warranty, luckily there was still two months left. I took the comp. all the way to Valdosta, I live in Thomasville, so they could repair it. I talked to them about what happened and left with the confidence that in only two weeks I'd get a call to come pick up my new laptop (they told me 99.99, like Lysol, that it'd be junked out and replaced).
When I got home, I noticed my paperwork still had our old address, so I called them to update their records. I was then told that the computer would not be repaired or replaced. They said that some of the damage looked intentional, like a hammer had been taken to it. Obviously in their world concrete is made of marshmallows and steel is made of cinnamon sticks. I tried to explain the complex matrix that makes up steel and concrete and how such damage does indeed look like "a hammer had been taken to it." Needless to say, if I wanted a new comp. I'd have to go buy one, so immediately the Mrs. and I went to Tally where we found our new favorite electronics store, Circuit City. I got an even better, faster laptop for half the price - warranty included!
I will write a letter to both the Best Buy corporate offices and the Better Business Bureau. Nothing will probably happen of course, and I already threw the busted computer away in a fit of rage. But when did I change from a person in need of service into a walking dollar sign? I'll NEVER shop at Not-So-Best Buy again, and they won't care . . . my puny dollars lost will never hurt them.
And by the way - the Best Buy warranty policy states that any damage that is not done by manufacturer is customer abuse, even accidental damage is considered so.

You've Gotta Be Kidding Me . . .

Okay, so now you all know the story of the driver who decided to entertain me at 7:50 in the morning, shirtless and holding what appeared to be a cigarette between his toes on his left foot while it was propped up outside the driver's side window. Only in South Georgia . . .

I love the versatility of "you've gotta be kidding me." It can be used to convey surprise as in you are in the doctor's office for a routine checkup only to find out that you are pregnant. (I'm not, by the way. Don't want to start any rumors.) Anger as in you have to do something else at work that is totally ridiculous. Amusment as in the above story. Disbelief, as in my personal computer, which is only used to download iTunes, is going to cost $300+ to fix. Stupid Dell.

I have uttered "you've gotta be kidding me" many a time. Usually it comes in conjunction with an overwhelming task. Case in point: my trainer wants me to do some very unrealistic task such as quit drinking sodas or to walk for 20 minutes for five days a week. Now I know that I am paying him to get me in shape, but quit drinking sodas? That is not going to happen. He even challenged me, saying that I couldn't even list one ingredient that was in soda. I quickly quipped, "Caffeine." Busted. He had to give me that.

The 20 minutes of cardio for five days a week is my newest challenge given to me last week. It really shouldn't be a problem since I used to work with a different trainer back in January three times a week for an hour. But when given the choice to come home and get into my bed or go for a walk, I'll take my bed any day. When I left on Friday, I decided that the week should start on Sunday. That makes more sense. So, Sunday came around. No walk. I had heartburn, I rationalized. Monday . . . I finally got my fat ass on the elliptical around 9:00 P.M. (For some reason I keep typing "me" instead of "my."Apparently I'm Irish. Maybe it's because I'm thinking about Lucky Charms, the bane of my existence and another source of contention between me and my trainer.) Last night I procrastinated until a little after 8:00 P.M. and finally took Lorelai out for a walk/run. My mom has been walking Lorelai and her dog Isabella, a chihuahua, because when I was training with Erica, earlier this year, I was too tired, and it was too hot when I got home. But Lorelai, because she normally doesn't get to with my (dang it, I did it again) mom and the chihuahua, decided that it was time to run like the wind. You've got to be kidding me . . .

While walking Lorelai in the grassy ditch between the two entrances, a guy in a hunter green Jeep headed toward Hahira stuck his head out of the driver's side window to check us out. Granted I was in a spaghetti strap tank top and Soffe shorts, and maybe that wasn't the most flattering outfit for me, but it was hot. Besides, I've seen worse. Anyway, it's one thing to take a quick look back and then put your eyes back on the road. But he continued to rubberneck at us down the road. I don't know if it was out of disgust or what but it left me feeling a little disturbed. What a perv.

Pet Peeves - Letter to my family

Pet Peeves. I could probably write for a day about pet peeves regarding just my family, without even touching on people in the outside world. I'll kind of write this as an open letter to my family.

I hate it when you leave the cabinet doors open, yet every time I come in the kitchen, at least two cabinet doors are standing open. What’s so hard about closing them? I don’t get it. Or is it like one of those episodes of The Haunting where a mischievous ghost goes through the house and just opens cabinet doors to scare the poor women who work in the kitchen?

Empty toilet paper rolls. Especially when there is a new roll of toilet paper sitting right on the shelf beside the commode. I have actually given lessons to everyone in my family and demonstrated removing the empty cardboard tube and putting a new, full roll on, and how easy it is to snap the little holder back into place. Maybe I need to re-teach this lesson, ‘cause evidently you didn’t get it the first time. I've even tested you and offered a prize to the one who can find the thing in the bathroom that's out of place and fix it. I have yet to give a prize away.

I can’t stand it when you come in from outside, and walk across the carpet, looking back to see if you’ve left dirty footprints. And then if you do leave footprints, you seem surprised. Well duh, you completely stepped over the two floor mats that were by the front door. And you also missed the mountain of shoes that the rest of us have pulled off and left by the door just so we’re certain we don’t track across the carpet. Or better yet, you say it's your brother's fault or your sister's fault or your dad's fault or the cats' fault. But I know better. I am the Mama.

There’s the whole bathroom seat up or down fight that I thankfully don’t have to deal with. This is the one lesson the boys in our family have learned. Put the seat down or you will have to deal with either one, two, or three irate bitches. You have enough trouble in your life without adding that on.

And one other thing. If you can manage to take your dirty plate and glass to the table, see if you can drag yourself another five steps and go ahead and load it in the dishwasher. I’m not even asking you to run it, just put your dirty things in there.

While we’re talking about dirty things…it’s kind of obvious when I’m doing laundry. I’m running back and forth to the pantry dozens of times. I’m hauling heavy laundry hampers around. You can hear the washer and dryer running. The house usually smells like Bounce and Tide. So why do you wait until it’s all done before you decide to bring the five loads that you’ve hoarded in your room and then say, “Hey Mom, I need these clean for tomorrow.” Well, darlin’, it’s time for another lesson in how to use the washer and dryer.

Is there some magical fairy that I don’t know about? You know, the one you expect to come every time you stuff empty potato chip bags or drink cans behind the couch? I assume you’re leaving these as treasures for the magical creatures, but you know what? I ain’t a magical creature, and despite the lovingkindness shown by you leaving these gifts, I’d really rather have jewelry, if it’s all the same to you.

The same thing goes for the empty tea pitcher. For some reason, you like to leave one inch of brown sludgy tea in the bottom of the pitcher and stick it back into the fridge. This one is mainly my son, just to make his sisters mad. I know your argument, “But there’s enough in there for one more glass.” I don’t care. If it gets that low, pour it in a glass, guzzle it down, and drop tea bags into a pot of water. If you’ll just do that much, someone else will come along and finish it. I promise you they will. And you won’t get fussed at in the process.

And why is it that you can’t pick up anything that doesn’t belong to you? I just need a little help keeping things in their places. I promise you, the baseball cleats weren’t mine. Neither was the Guitar Hero game. Neither was the clarinet. Or the hair straightener. None of that was mine, but at some point I’ve put them all away in your rooms. More than once. So it’s been scientifically proven that it will NOT harm you to put away things that belong to your siblings (or to your children, Johnny).

So there are some of my pet peeves. I have others, but I know if I keep talking, you'll just respond by saying that one of YOUR pet peeves is women who nag. I wouldn't want that, would I?

Pet Peeves

The list:

• slow drivers who pull out in front of me even though there's no one behind me
• people who borrow stuff and don't take care of it
• people who don't take responsibility for their actions
• whiners who aren't funny about it
• people who are completely un-self-aware
• people who miss appointments without calling to reschedule
• spilling stuff on myself--the joke in the family is "It wouldn't be a day . . ." if that didn't happen

Hmm, even though I suggested Pet Peeves, I'm not really in the mood to go off on anyone or anything. (Imagine that!) I guess I'll try tall tales.

Tall Tales:

• ghost stories about Mama Cox's house--I need to talk to some relatives about that because they're mostly gone from my memory
• the murder-suicide at Haunted Bridge in Grady County
• Spook Bridge in Lowndes County--I don't actually know what was supposed to have happened there, but we partied there in college

Yeah, that's not working for me either. I guess I'll try something else.

Family sayings:

• "wouldn't be a day"--we say this whenever someone spills something; Renee reminded me of this saying today
• "whif and in"--we say this instead of "when and if" because Wes transposed letters in those words one day, and it's just become one of the family sayings--Isn't that called a Spoonerism, or am I thinking of something else?
• "That's what my girlfriend said at the picnic."--Wes picked this up in college. You'd be surprised how often that saying fits.

Other confused sayings:

• "bomb" pronounced as "bum"--This comes from my aunt who talked about a "bum threat" at school, which now seems strangely appropriate.
• "Brookwood Plasma" instead of "Brookwood Plaza"--the original University Center
• "ovulating fan" instead of "oscillating fan"
• "Grand Pricks" instead of "Grand Prix"

Hmm, nothing seems to be gelling for me today. What's up with that? I sip my twenty-ounce French Vanilla cappuccino from a convenience store and hope for inspiration. Stupid inspiration. It fails me. I start thinking of metaphors for failure and realize I don't want to go there.

I scan the room, looking for inspiration. Ansley, Tammy, Lori, Nick, and I type. Dottie, Lana, Rebecca, Renee, and Cindy Kay write. Well, actually, when I look up, Renee is scraping the last of the yogurt from the container. Ansley pauses for a sip of coffee and checks the room, then re-reads her writing thus far.

Rebecca sips from her Starbucks mug and returns to the food table where she has stashed her I-Pod. I just realized that I don't know how I-Pod is capitalized. Since I don't have one, it's not a major issue for me, but I'm just curious.

I forgot to turn off the projector. Matt left the Cars poster on the wall. I wonder why Blogspot lets writers use italics in the posts but not in the comments. Oh well, just another unanswered question. Maybe that's a good prompt: Unanswered Questions. Not today. Not for me. Today no topics appeals, but I keep writing, pushing myself to generate text, to form words, to hope for coherent thought, but to keep writing regardless of temptations to desist.

I wonder if anyone else is on the blog today. I wonder if there will be stuff to read when I post. This computer hurts my arms. The table is too tall. Maybe I'll try raising the chair. Nah, maybe I'll just sit here and complain. Given the complaints generated, I'm surprised Pet Peeves isn't working for me as a topic.

The projector distracts me, but that's probably because I'm looking for distractions. I check the coffee pot. Nope. Some remains, so there's no excuse to quit writing. I should have left the room. That would have provided some distraction. I know I'll use the rest of the coffee so that I can make more. Good plan.

Pet Peeves

Ok, just what I've been wanting to talk about. I've decided that for ease sake I'll just make a list. And God knows it's a long one too.

1. Traffic-light gazers - It's green! For God's sake, what are you waiting for? A personal invitation to go? It ain't gonna get any greener!
2. Sunday drivers - Just because you think the countryside's beautiful and don't want to go home to your wife doesn't mean I don't. Move it or lose it! Honk! Honk!
3. Lane Lollies - Look, I understand that it's a pain in the back-side to have to get over every time you have to pass someone, but the sign clearly states "Slow traffic keep right." That doesn't mean drive with your right hand.
4. Cell phone Talkers - Just what exactly do you have to talk about while driving that's so important!? It's not like you can't just wait until you get home and then call.
5. Lookie-Loos - Yes, there is an accident, or yes, there is construction. But do you really have to stop to watch it? Ooh, there's somebody's head on the ground? Ooh! Where do you go with that? Why is it so important to grab that image?
6. Train-track stops - You do realize you do more damage to your car by basically stopping before going over the tracks right? Or do you like the motion in the ocean?
7. No Blinkies - Why do you think I'm a mind-reader? I don't know where you're going unless you tell me! I mean, did you just not know you were turning until you got to the turn?
8. Late-Blinkies - Thank you for telling me you were turning by hitting your blinker when you were already in the turning lane. I honestly couldn't tell you were going to turn!
9. Forgot-Blinkies - You've used your blinker and changed lanes. Why is your blinker still going? Did you forget about it? Can you not hear the "click, click" as it keeps blinking? Or are you just warning us in advance of your next turn - 20 miles early?
10. Seatbelt Warnings - That beep as I begin to drive away. I don't need you to tell me my seatbelt is not buckled, I think I can figure that out for myself - you know, since I can feel there's no belt constricting across my abdomen.