July 12, 2009
July 11, 2009
My sinuses hate all of us
Since I can't manage string three coherent thoughts together no matter how hard I try, here's a little peppy something to go with our weekend. (Cause, let's face it--you're not going to get any pep from me today...not with the amount of tissues and/or decongestant I should be going through).
P.S. Glee totally lives up to its name. Love, love, love it.
July 9, 2009
It's my blog, and I'll brag if I want to.
So I took Ian to the dentist on Monday.
I'm quite confident that I was more nervous than he...as I know how children can be on their first trip to the dentist. And when I say I was more nervous than he, I'd like you to know that he was not nervous at all. After all--he knew he'd get to wear sunglasses, and he's all about the sunglasses...Also, he likes brushing his teeth. He thinks it's awesome. And how couldn't it be? It's parent-sanctioned spitting.
After getting recommendations from friends, we chose a pediatric dental practice in the next town over--not a single adult patient to be seen. The waiting room itself was kid heaven. (Including a set of shoebox-sized legos....yeah....like I said.....Kid Heaven....Not only do they let you spit, but you can build a wall around yourself to keep out invaders. Note to self: invent shoebox-sized legos for grown-ups.)
And Ian loved every minute of his check-up. (Also: they had prizes for being a good patient. Side note: I think the OB/Gyn should have prizes for being a good patient. Just sayin'.) And the worst part of the whole experience?
At the beginning of the visit, they asked Ian, "Did you brush your teeth this morning?"
{silence}
I FORGOT TO HAVE HIM BRUSH HIS TEETH ON THE MORNING OF HIS FIRST DENTIST APPOINTMENT IN HIS LIFE, EVER.
You'd think I'd remember such a thing. I'm pretty confident they were going to send me to the Parent Dungeon or slap a Scarlet 'T' on my chest or something. Who forgets that? Seriously!
So other than that little scene, it was wonderful. I happen to love getting my teeth cleaned and I'm glad Ian does, too. Cause let's face it: was I truly prepared for a potential melt-down? Not really.
But the visit was sans melt-down and prize-ful, which made for happy son, happy mama. I'm bursting with pride to the point that I can hardly stand it anymore. Oh...and also?
NO CAVITIES.
{huzzah!}
I think I'll schedule a visit for myself.
I'm quite confident that I was more nervous than he...as I know how children can be on their first trip to the dentist. And when I say I was more nervous than he, I'd like you to know that he was not nervous at all. After all--he knew he'd get to wear sunglasses, and he's all about the sunglasses...Also, he likes brushing his teeth. He thinks it's awesome. And how couldn't it be? It's parent-sanctioned spitting.
After getting recommendations from friends, we chose a pediatric dental practice in the next town over--not a single adult patient to be seen. The waiting room itself was kid heaven. (Including a set of shoebox-sized legos....yeah....like I said.....Kid Heaven....Not only do they let you spit, but you can build a wall around yourself to keep out invaders. Note to self: invent shoebox-sized legos for grown-ups.)
And Ian loved every minute of his check-up. (Also: they had prizes for being a good patient. Side note: I think the OB/Gyn should have prizes for being a good patient. Just sayin'.) And the worst part of the whole experience?
At the beginning of the visit, they asked Ian, "Did you brush your teeth this morning?"
{silence}
I FORGOT TO HAVE HIM BRUSH HIS TEETH ON THE MORNING OF HIS FIRST DENTIST APPOINTMENT IN HIS LIFE, EVER.
You'd think I'd remember such a thing. I'm pretty confident they were going to send me to the Parent Dungeon or slap a Scarlet 'T' on my chest or something. Who forgets that? Seriously!
So other than that little scene, it was wonderful. I happen to love getting my teeth cleaned and I'm glad Ian does, too. Cause let's face it: was I truly prepared for a potential melt-down? Not really.
But the visit was sans melt-down and prize-ful, which made for happy son, happy mama. I'm bursting with pride to the point that I can hardly stand it anymore. Oh...and also?
NO CAVITIES.
{huzzah!}
I think I'll schedule a visit for myself.
July 8, 2009
tin cans, purse....whatever
image from mitchster.comThere are lots of local farms in our general vicinity. Lots.
So when my friend called and asked if I wanted to check one out with her, I, of course, said yes. After all, it was only threatening rain....and these days, I'd plan an entire outdoor wedding on the forecast of threatening....cause let's face it--that's the best we're going to get until the sun comes out again in January, at which point it's practically useless cause it'll be forty-below.
Anyway.
So we put on our wellies and hopped in the car and headed to the farm....which was adorable. Complete with organic chocolate milk that--brace yourselves--comes in glass bottles. Like the kind that used to get delivered to Lassie's house every episode. "What, girl? What do you say? Timmy sliced off his finger on a broken milk bottle? Okay. Go fetch the sheriff!!"
So of course I bought some....Ninety-cent-bottle-deposit-and-all. Also, I bought some eggs-that-were-laid-yesterday, which was the true reason my friend and I were really there. Everything else was just a bonus. (I like farm-fresh, no-frills eggs, mainly cause it further justifies the validity of raw cookie dough as a legitimate nutrition source....and who knows what kinda "frills" are in those eggs that go for a-dollar-a-dozen at the Market Basket. I love me the Market Basket, I do....but the eggs sort of freak me out).
What's nice about this farm is that you can go into the barn and see those chickens that laid the eggs that were now in the trunk of my car. (Along with the almost-as-good-as-BYU-chocolate-milk-chocolate-milk.) Also in the barn? A frustrated pig named Lilac....and trust me....with all the gruntin' and groanin' and carryin' on she did, she did not strike us much like a "Lilac" sort of gal....Also....some goats. Goats that were used to being fed.
And in my mind, goats are a lot like geese. They know who's in charge. They know from whence the food comes.
People.
More specifically, People With Kids.
Suffice it to say, we fit the profile. And, boy, did those goats know it. Today I discovered the true power of a goat's neck--I'm now convinced that, somewhere along the way, goats descended from giraffes...because those suckers were long.
How long, you ask?
Long enough to scare the bejeebers out of my friend when an extra-frisky goat started eating her purse....WHILST ON HER SHOULDER.
I should have reminded her to check and make sure all her credit cards were there. Because you never know--goats are pretty smart....and it would be such a shame if one of them bought a house in Boca with her identity.
A cryin' shame.
So when my friend called and asked if I wanted to check one out with her, I, of course, said yes. After all, it was only threatening rain....and these days, I'd plan an entire outdoor wedding on the forecast of threatening....cause let's face it--that's the best we're going to get until the sun comes out again in January, at which point it's practically useless cause it'll be forty-below.
Anyway.
So we put on our wellies and hopped in the car and headed to the farm....which was adorable. Complete with organic chocolate milk that--brace yourselves--comes in glass bottles. Like the kind that used to get delivered to Lassie's house every episode. "What, girl? What do you say? Timmy sliced off his finger on a broken milk bottle? Okay. Go fetch the sheriff!!"
So of course I bought some....Ninety-cent-bottle-deposit-and-all. Also, I bought some eggs-that-were-laid-yesterday, which was the true reason my friend and I were really there. Everything else was just a bonus. (I like farm-fresh, no-frills eggs, mainly cause it further justifies the validity of raw cookie dough as a legitimate nutrition source....and who knows what kinda "frills" are in those eggs that go for a-dollar-a-dozen at the Market Basket. I love me the Market Basket, I do....but the eggs sort of freak me out).
What's nice about this farm is that you can go into the barn and see those chickens that laid the eggs that were now in the trunk of my car. (Along with the almost-as-good-as-BYU-chocolate-milk-chocolate-milk.) Also in the barn? A frustrated pig named Lilac....and trust me....with all the gruntin' and groanin' and carryin' on she did, she did not strike us much like a "Lilac" sort of gal....Also....some goats. Goats that were used to being fed.
And in my mind, goats are a lot like geese. They know who's in charge. They know from whence the food comes.
People.
More specifically, People With Kids.
Suffice it to say, we fit the profile. And, boy, did those goats know it. Today I discovered the true power of a goat's neck--I'm now convinced that, somewhere along the way, goats descended from giraffes...because those suckers were long.
How long, you ask?
Long enough to scare the bejeebers out of my friend when an extra-frisky goat started eating her purse....WHILST ON HER SHOULDER.
I should have reminded her to check and make sure all her credit cards were there. Because you never know--goats are pretty smart....and it would be such a shame if one of them bought a house in Boca with her identity.
A cryin' shame.
July 7, 2009
Tips.
Over the past few weeks, I've encountered some less-than desirable customer-service/job performance situations...the ones that make me shake my head and wonder, "Really? Do you really think your job is secure in the middle of a recession when there are thousands of wildly overqualified individuals who are standing on the sidelines just waiting for you to mess up so they can go back to work?"
Okay, so every situation wasn't quite like that....But it got me thinking: What if more people made their living based on tips? Translation: What if more people could earn more if they performed better? I realize that the term "bonus" is sort of black-listed right now....but I'm not talking about people who are already making seven figures a year. I'm talking about people I actually run into on a regular basis....people who can easily make or break my day.
So may I present to you my Unsolicited List of Occupations That Would Benefit From Customer Tips:
Phlebotomists: I've had some great ones and I've had some pretty horrible ones. The former can draw three vials of my blood without my notice....while the latter somehow always manages to think, "Instead of trying the other arm, I'm just going to take this large, sharp needle and wiggle it around inside her arm until I accidentally make contact with my target, thus rendering her veins swiss cheese."
The guy bagging my groceries: I had to bring my bread back into the store yesterday because my bagger had put my bag of apples and my Simply Orange juice on top of my bread. Really? Also...I love my reusable grocery bags--I do. But what makes them think that it's okay to bag a full week's groceries in THREE bags? (Especially when I give them six?) I've spent many a moment in the parking lot REbagging my own groceries so I could actually carry them. (Often, in one (1) bag, I'll find my gallon of milk, 2 gallons of juice, all of my canned goods, and my guilty-pleasure-Fresca. Not kidding). Side note: Now, when I get to check-out, I make sure to say, "Could you please use all of my bags? It makes them easier for me to carry."
Airport Customer Service People: In January, we were bumped from a flight and received three vouchers for round-trip travel anywhere in the continental United States. (Does anyone else hate that caviat? Come on, United! Stop being the Hawaii haters!) It wasn't until a few weeks ago that we decided how we were going to use them, and called the airline to book tickets. Which was great. All went smoothly. But. When you use vouchers with United, you must bring them in person to the airport to confirm your reservation and pick up your tickets. Fine. I'll drive down to Logan for the sake of 3 free airline tickets. And I did. Well, we did....since going to the airport is not a drive-alone-and-park scenario....if you're sane. So Joe dropped me off and started circling while I went inside. It was about 7pm, and I was waived right up to the counter where a nice man asked what I needed, and--when I told him--said he was happy to help. Everything was going well. I would have TOTALLY put a tip in his tip jar. The transaction was nearly done and the tickets were printing when his supervisor came over and we had the following conversation:
Supervisor: You know we stop ticketing at 5pm, right?
Me: Oh, I didn't know that. On the phone, your customer service people said to come before midnight.
Supervisor: Well, we stop ticketing at 5pm.
Me (thinking: Um....you're checking people into flights at all hours, but you can't print tickets?): Oh, I'm sorry. They just told me to be here by midnight, and this gentleman was nice enough to help me.
Supervisor: Do you know who you talked to on the phone?
Me (thinking: uhhhhh....someone in India, so you have a 1-in-a-billion chance of guessing): I don't. It was just a call center.
Supervisor: He wasn't supposed to give you your tickets. The only reason we're still here is because the weather is bad and flights are delayed.
Me (thinking: um, the only reason you're here is because you have flights still leaving and passengers to check-in and if you go outside, you'll likely melt): Well, I really appreciate the help.
Supervisor: Well, just remember that we won't do this for you next time.
Huh. (Meanwhile, guy-printing-my-tickets looks like the proverbial deer-in-the-headlights). And everything was going so well! I'm just going to assume that she had just had the worst day of her life...But I will remember for next time, ma'am.
Other Ideas:
Target Associates
Drivers' Ed Instructors
Your OB/Gyn
Librarians
DMV workers
Meteorologists (I'll give $20 right now just to hear a forecast of sun. It doesn't even have to be true.)
Teachers
Whom do you wish you could tip for some better service?
Okay, so every situation wasn't quite like that....But it got me thinking: What if more people made their living based on tips? Translation: What if more people could earn more if they performed better? I realize that the term "bonus" is sort of black-listed right now....but I'm not talking about people who are already making seven figures a year. I'm talking about people I actually run into on a regular basis....people who can easily make or break my day.
So may I present to you my Unsolicited List of Occupations That Would Benefit From Customer Tips:
Phlebotomists: I've had some great ones and I've had some pretty horrible ones. The former can draw three vials of my blood without my notice....while the latter somehow always manages to think, "Instead of trying the other arm, I'm just going to take this large, sharp needle and wiggle it around inside her arm until I accidentally make contact with my target, thus rendering her veins swiss cheese."
The guy bagging my groceries: I had to bring my bread back into the store yesterday because my bagger had put my bag of apples and my Simply Orange juice on top of my bread. Really? Also...I love my reusable grocery bags--I do. But what makes them think that it's okay to bag a full week's groceries in THREE bags? (Especially when I give them six?) I've spent many a moment in the parking lot REbagging my own groceries so I could actually carry them. (Often, in one (1) bag, I'll find my gallon of milk, 2 gallons of juice, all of my canned goods, and my guilty-pleasure-Fresca. Not kidding). Side note: Now, when I get to check-out, I make sure to say, "Could you please use all of my bags? It makes them easier for me to carry."
Airport Customer Service People: In January, we were bumped from a flight and received three vouchers for round-trip travel anywhere in the continental United States. (Does anyone else hate that caviat? Come on, United! Stop being the Hawaii haters!) It wasn't until a few weeks ago that we decided how we were going to use them, and called the airline to book tickets. Which was great. All went smoothly. But. When you use vouchers with United, you must bring them in person to the airport to confirm your reservation and pick up your tickets. Fine. I'll drive down to Logan for the sake of 3 free airline tickets. And I did. Well, we did....since going to the airport is not a drive-alone-and-park scenario....if you're sane. So Joe dropped me off and started circling while I went inside. It was about 7pm, and I was waived right up to the counter where a nice man asked what I needed, and--when I told him--said he was happy to help. Everything was going well. I would have TOTALLY put a tip in his tip jar. The transaction was nearly done and the tickets were printing when his supervisor came over and we had the following conversation:
Supervisor: You know we stop ticketing at 5pm, right?
Me: Oh, I didn't know that. On the phone, your customer service people said to come before midnight.
Supervisor: Well, we stop ticketing at 5pm.
Me (thinking: Um....you're checking people into flights at all hours, but you can't print tickets?): Oh, I'm sorry. They just told me to be here by midnight, and this gentleman was nice enough to help me.
Supervisor: Do you know who you talked to on the phone?
Me (thinking: uhhhhh....someone in India, so you have a 1-in-a-billion chance of guessing): I don't. It was just a call center.
Supervisor: He wasn't supposed to give you your tickets. The only reason we're still here is because the weather is bad and flights are delayed.
Me (thinking: um, the only reason you're here is because you have flights still leaving and passengers to check-in and if you go outside, you'll likely melt): Well, I really appreciate the help.
Supervisor: Well, just remember that we won't do this for you next time.
Huh. (Meanwhile, guy-printing-my-tickets looks like the proverbial deer-in-the-headlights). And everything was going so well! I'm just going to assume that she had just had the worst day of her life...But I will remember for next time, ma'am.
Other Ideas:
Target Associates
Drivers' Ed Instructors
Your OB/Gyn
Librarians
DMV workers
Meteorologists (I'll give $20 right now just to hear a forecast of sun. It doesn't even have to be true.)
Teachers
Whom do you wish you could tip for some better service?
July 6, 2009
House Hunters
"I had made it to the Big Time, so I moved to the Big City and bought the Big House. Now I had real responsibilities. If something goes wrong with your house, it's your problem. And boy, can things go haywire. There's electricity and fuse boxes and three-prong outlets. It's like living in a Space Station. No one warned me that life would involve science, except my science teacher. But, of course, he's going to say that. He's got a job to protect."
-Stephen Colbert
in I Am America and So Can You
-Stephen Colbert
in I Am America and So Can You
We would like to buy a house, husband and I. Eventually, that is. Because--as I may have mentioned before--I still need to introduce our friend, Median Household Income, to our other friend, Median Single-Family Home Price. It's fairly obvious that they haven't met--at least not recently, and at least not in the greater-Boston metro area.
So, wanting to be responsible home-buyers, and in an attempt to fit in some masochistic driving into our lives (via needing to arrive in Watertown, Massachusetts [the location of our class...NOT where we live] AT RUSH HOUR), we signed up for a First-Time Home-Buying class. That took place at 5:45pm and lasted until 9:30pm each night for three nights. (Sounds like a great way to spend three evenings, eh?)
And, really, I was sort of surprised to see that Astronaut Training was not on the agenda--since we'd have to go clear to outer space to find a decent, well-kept, suburban home...in a good school district...within a 15-minute drive of Joe's office...on at least a quarter acre...within the boundaries of our current ward...all for less than we want to spend. Come on, really. Is that too much to ask?
The class, on the whole, provided a net gain of home-buying information. Though, I would say that if you're savvy enough, you could get about 90% of the information by yourself...late at night...just you and the internets. Also--you'll have some explaining to do the next morning when you have those ghastly dark circles under your eyes. Unless you're me...and then people will just sort of expect them...cause that's just the way you are. (Wherein I raise my fist and curse some aspects of my genetics).
That other 10% of what I'd label as "Information Worth Driving on Route 16 at Rush Hour," was delivered by several professionals "in the industry." And by "in the industry," I'm pretty sure I mean "friends of the guy putting on the class." Just sayin'. Regardless, they were quite stinkin' informative....When was the last time you got to pick the brain of a home inspector for two hours? I didn't think so.
Overall, the class basically scared the home-buying pants off me--though I've maintained my skepticism about this being "a good time to buy." At least in this area. (If you haven't yet noticed via my rant-filled chagrin on the issue--real estate prices here are lagging in their free-fall....Translation: most sellers are kidding themselves.)
Does that mean I'm not browsing real estate listings in my spare time? Not a chance. But if you'd like to be my neighbor in suburban Neptune, just let me know. Maybe we can go in on a multi-family.
So, wanting to be responsible home-buyers, and in an attempt to fit in some masochistic driving into our lives (via needing to arrive in Watertown, Massachusetts [the location of our class...NOT where we live] AT RUSH HOUR), we signed up for a First-Time Home-Buying class. That took place at 5:45pm and lasted until 9:30pm each night for three nights. (Sounds like a great way to spend three evenings, eh?)
And, really, I was sort of surprised to see that Astronaut Training was not on the agenda--since we'd have to go clear to outer space to find a decent, well-kept, suburban home...in a good school district...within a 15-minute drive of Joe's office...on at least a quarter acre...within the boundaries of our current ward...all for less than we want to spend. Come on, really. Is that too much to ask?
The class, on the whole, provided a net gain of home-buying information. Though, I would say that if you're savvy enough, you could get about 90% of the information by yourself...late at night...just you and the internets. Also--you'll have some explaining to do the next morning when you have those ghastly dark circles under your eyes. Unless you're me...and then people will just sort of expect them...cause that's just the way you are. (Wherein I raise my fist and curse some aspects of my genetics).
That other 10% of what I'd label as "Information Worth Driving on Route 16 at Rush Hour," was delivered by several professionals "in the industry." And by "in the industry," I'm pretty sure I mean "friends of the guy putting on the class." Just sayin'. Regardless, they were quite stinkin' informative....When was the last time you got to pick the brain of a home inspector for two hours? I didn't think so.
Overall, the class basically scared the home-buying pants off me--though I've maintained my skepticism about this being "a good time to buy." At least in this area. (If you haven't yet noticed via my rant-filled chagrin on the issue--real estate prices here are lagging in their free-fall....Translation: most sellers are kidding themselves.)
Does that mean I'm not browsing real estate listings in my spare time? Not a chance. But if you'd like to be my neighbor in suburban Neptune, just let me know. Maybe we can go in on a multi-family.
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