I am alone for the weekend. At last. I haven't posted much lately because I just haven't had the energy. I am slowly having my lifeforce sucked from me by a hormonal teenager.
Oh sure, they start out all helpless and cute. Then they figure out exactly how to manipulate you to get what they want. The CIA should start reciting them at this age. They ply you with the puppy dog eyes and when they don't get their way they whip out their secret weapon. The Temper Tantrum. Whether you are hell bent on world domination or just trying to get the grocery shopping done, a temper tantrum can bring you to your knees in an instant.
Eventually they outgrow this and things fall into a comfortable routine for a few years. Any minor bumps along the way are easily resolved. Mom & Dad still hold the answers for everything, they can make all that is wrong right again. It may seem as though these innocent souls are busy learning and discovering new things. It may seem they are on the right path. It may seem that they still look at you with those adoring eyes. Dad is their Superhero, Mom is the rest of their world.
DO NOT BE FOOLED.
This is nothing more than a ploy to lull you into complacency. They are only waiting for the hormones to kick in to execute the evil plan they have been devising. Once puberty hits, you will realize you have been setup.
Once the center of their world, you now become the bane of their existence. You may have felt like The Oracle, but you have suddenly become the stupidest person on the planet. Once they move into their Sophomore year of Highschool they have surpassed your limited knowledge. Your logic and reason are not applicable in their world any longer. Your purpose in life has suddenly become nothing more than a barrier to their greatness. You're "ruining" their lives. You never want them to have any fun or be happy, and if their not happy, there is no way in hell you will be.
They are above the menial labor of cleaning their room or taking out the trash. Why should they pick the towel up off the floor if they are only going to use it again for their second or third shower of the day? The floor is much more convenient for dirty clothes, putting them in the hamper is much too exhausting. Why should the bed be made up only to sleep in it 12 hours later? The sink is much closer for dirty dishes than the empty dishwasher. Wearing 3 outfits a day is why we have washing machines! You have become nothing more than a tyrant that uses them as your personal slave.
This is the point when you realize that your once perfect child has been kidnapped by aliens and replaced with a lifesucking vampire clone.
I tried using a bunch of really cool links to enhance this post. Alas, I must have done something wrong and none of them worked. I'll have to work on figuring out what I did wrong and attempt it again.
Friday, July 29, 2005
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Great Blue Thief
My Sis-In-Law's Dad came from Germany. Although he's been in the US for several decades now, he never lost the accent. That info is pertinent to this tale I heard from my sis-in-law.
Her parents had recently installed a pond in their back yard. Dad was very proud of it and decided to put some Coi fish in it. After a couple days he noticed that some of the fish were missing. He started keeping a closer eye on the pond. One day to his amazement, a Great Blue Heron swooped in, landed in the pond and proceeded to eat a lunch of Coi. Dad was not happy.
He relayed the story to my Sis-In-Law who in turn told us. She does a great imitation of her father, with arms outstretched like a bird in flight.
"Und, dis fooking vulture svept in and ate my fish!"
It was pretty funny.
Her parents had recently installed a pond in their back yard. Dad was very proud of it and decided to put some Coi fish in it. After a couple days he noticed that some of the fish were missing. He started keeping a closer eye on the pond. One day to his amazement, a Great Blue Heron swooped in, landed in the pond and proceeded to eat a lunch of Coi. Dad was not happy.
He relayed the story to my Sis-In-Law who in turn told us. She does a great imitation of her father, with arms outstretched like a bird in flight.
"Und, dis fooking vulture svept in and ate my fish!"
It was pretty funny.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
More than one way to communicate
I have a routine when I get home from work. I change out of my work clothes and get into something comfortable, then I play a bit with one of my cats. Tabitha is usually laying on my bed when I get home. I always get an enthusiastic "Meow" hello. I usually cup her face in my hands and rub her fur back and forth. Her eyes partly close and she starts purring. Sometimes I even get a short "row" of approval. If I forget to greet her like this, I am nagged until I respond. She is all black with yellow/green eyes. She's quite beautiful and part Siamese. This is apparent in her vocabulary.
She's quite verbal. She can demand her dinner quite clearly by yelling at me, as much as a cat can yell. This has been confirmed by the "Oh my God" elicited from my son in response to the volume of a prolonged "meeeeeeeeooooow!" on more than one occasion. It's as if she is saying "HURRY UP AND FEED ME ALREADY!"
Once I give her a hello rub we will usually play for a bit. I will tickle her belly, pat her back by her tail and rub her head in a way that tells her I am up for a bit of roughhousing. She doesn't like getting too aggressive with my naked hand, but if I hide my hand under a blanket or towel it's a different story. She clicks into Great White Hunter mode. The butt goes up in the air and wiggles back and forth as she crouches down to stalk her prey. Her tail twitches wildly. All at once she shoots across the bed and skids to a halt with her arms outstretched to slip under the towel and catch my wiggling fingers.
We were in the middle of this little romp. She had caught my hand, rolled onto her back and started scratching her hind legs against the towel. I knelt down and got closer.
That's when it happened.
It was a small sound, like a squeak. I went still. We looked at each other. She had a look on her face as if to say "Why'd ya stop?". It only took me a moment to realize.
My cat had farted in my face.
Ever so delicate sounding. A small feline queef. "You farted in my face!" I couldn't believe it. She was licking her paw and looked up. "Reow?" So? It was a look that said "Whadya expect? You feed me that indoor cat crap with greens in it?"
That ended our play session for the day.
She's quite verbal. She can demand her dinner quite clearly by yelling at me, as much as a cat can yell. This has been confirmed by the "Oh my God" elicited from my son in response to the volume of a prolonged "meeeeeeeeooooow!" on more than one occasion. It's as if she is saying "HURRY UP AND FEED ME ALREADY!"
Once I give her a hello rub we will usually play for a bit. I will tickle her belly, pat her back by her tail and rub her head in a way that tells her I am up for a bit of roughhousing. She doesn't like getting too aggressive with my naked hand, but if I hide my hand under a blanket or towel it's a different story. She clicks into Great White Hunter mode. The butt goes up in the air and wiggles back and forth as she crouches down to stalk her prey. Her tail twitches wildly. All at once she shoots across the bed and skids to a halt with her arms outstretched to slip under the towel and catch my wiggling fingers.
We were in the middle of this little romp. She had caught my hand, rolled onto her back and started scratching her hind legs against the towel. I knelt down and got closer.
That's when it happened.
It was a small sound, like a squeak. I went still. We looked at each other. She had a look on her face as if to say "Why'd ya stop?". It only took me a moment to realize.
My cat had farted in my face.
Ever so delicate sounding. A small feline queef. "You farted in my face!" I couldn't believe it. She was licking her paw and looked up. "Reow?" So? It was a look that said "Whadya expect? You feed me that indoor cat crap with greens in it?"
That ended our play session for the day.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
RIP Common Sense
This is one of those forwarded E-mails you get. I thought it worthy of a post. The sentiment is so true.
THE SAD DEATH OF COMMON SENSE "Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend by the name of Common Sense who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such value lessons as knowing when to come in out of the rain, why the early bird gets the worm and that life isn't always fair. Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you earn) and reliable parenting strategies (adults, not kids, are in charge). His health began to rapidly deteriorate when well intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a six-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school! for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition. It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer aspirin to a student; however they could not inform the parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion. Finally, Common sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became contraband; churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims. Common Sense finally gave up the ghost after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot, she spilled a bit in her lap, and was awarded a huge settlement. Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust; his wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason. He is survived by two stepbrothers; My Rights and Ima Whiner. Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.
Isn't it sad that common sense has gone out the window? We've become a society so worried about being politically correct that we cannot see the forest for the trees.
Charging a six year old with sexual harassment? C'mon?! We don't allow children to be children anymore. We take away a parent's right to discipline their children by screaming abuse, yet blame that parent when their child becomes out of control and delinquent. Everyone is looking for a quick buck and sue happy for their own stupidity; like the man who put his RV on cruise control and went back to the kitchen to make a sandwich. He sued when he crashed - he thought cruise control meant it would drive itself down the highway.
Talk about the dumbing down of America?!
No one wants to be held accountable anymore. It's much easier to point fingers and blame someone, anyone else for our lot in life. People are looking for a quick fix, a happy pill. We've become a nation of addicts praying to the pharmaceutical Gods to solve our woes.
No, I am not going all 'Tom Cruise' on you. I am not gonna tell you to take two vitamins and call me in the morning. Medication certainly helps for medically diagnosed issues. My son is on medication. I thank the Gods for that medication and how it improves his/our quality of life. BUT, the medication is only one small portion of treatment. Therapy, behavior modification and consistency in discipline have to be employed to manage his disability. I refuse to allow my son the 'out' of a disability. Having that disability doesn't give him license for bad behavior. Being more impulsive just means he has to be more aware of that impulsiveness and work harder to control it than others! It's hard work. But isn't that what life is? It's work!
I think that's become part of the problem. Why do the work? It's so much easier to run to the Dr. and say it isn't working! Up the dosage! We end up with a society of lazy, stoned whiners pointing fingers at everyone else for their problems and policing how others live their lives. Isn't that easier than actually using common sense, looking inside ourselves, realizing that we are responsible for our own happiness and lives, shortcomings and all?
Three words: GET OVER IT!
It's time for people to mind their own damn business. I do mean MIND. Take care of what's going on inside your own life. Do the work to make yourself happy. Do the work to be a good parent and bring your children up to be happy, responsible adults. That's the job you agreed to when you decided to reproduce! Teach them manners and respect. Please and Thank you go a long way. Teach them right from wrong. If we did that, would there be a need for gangs? It isn't easy? Waaa. Too damn bad. How can you really learn to appreciate life if it's easy? There needs to be tough times and hard work in order to appreciate and be grateful for the good in life. If you do something stupid or bad, then you need to take responsibility for it!
Let's bring back Common Sense. I'm really worried where humanity will end up if we don't.
THE SAD DEATH OF COMMON SENSE "Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend by the name of Common Sense who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such value lessons as knowing when to come in out of the rain, why the early bird gets the worm and that life isn't always fair. Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you earn) and reliable parenting strategies (adults, not kids, are in charge). His health began to rapidly deteriorate when well intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a six-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school! for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition. It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer aspirin to a student; however they could not inform the parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion. Finally, Common sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became contraband; churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims. Common Sense finally gave up the ghost after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot, she spilled a bit in her lap, and was awarded a huge settlement. Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust; his wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason. He is survived by two stepbrothers; My Rights and Ima Whiner. Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.
Isn't it sad that common sense has gone out the window? We've become a society so worried about being politically correct that we cannot see the forest for the trees.
Charging a six year old with sexual harassment? C'mon?! We don't allow children to be children anymore. We take away a parent's right to discipline their children by screaming abuse, yet blame that parent when their child becomes out of control and delinquent. Everyone is looking for a quick buck and sue happy for their own stupidity; like the man who put his RV on cruise control and went back to the kitchen to make a sandwich. He sued when he crashed - he thought cruise control meant it would drive itself down the highway.
Talk about the dumbing down of America?!
No one wants to be held accountable anymore. It's much easier to point fingers and blame someone, anyone else for our lot in life. People are looking for a quick fix, a happy pill. We've become a nation of addicts praying to the pharmaceutical Gods to solve our woes.
No, I am not going all 'Tom Cruise' on you. I am not gonna tell you to take two vitamins and call me in the morning. Medication certainly helps for medically diagnosed issues. My son is on medication. I thank the Gods for that medication and how it improves his/our quality of life. BUT, the medication is only one small portion of treatment. Therapy, behavior modification and consistency in discipline have to be employed to manage his disability. I refuse to allow my son the 'out' of a disability. Having that disability doesn't give him license for bad behavior. Being more impulsive just means he has to be more aware of that impulsiveness and work harder to control it than others! It's hard work. But isn't that what life is? It's work!
I think that's become part of the problem. Why do the work? It's so much easier to run to the Dr. and say it isn't working! Up the dosage! We end up with a society of lazy, stoned whiners pointing fingers at everyone else for their problems and policing how others live their lives. Isn't that easier than actually using common sense, looking inside ourselves, realizing that we are responsible for our own happiness and lives, shortcomings and all?
Three words: GET OVER IT!
It's time for people to mind their own damn business. I do mean MIND. Take care of what's going on inside your own life. Do the work to make yourself happy. Do the work to be a good parent and bring your children up to be happy, responsible adults. That's the job you agreed to when you decided to reproduce! Teach them manners and respect. Please and Thank you go a long way. Teach them right from wrong. If we did that, would there be a need for gangs? It isn't easy? Waaa. Too damn bad. How can you really learn to appreciate life if it's easy? There needs to be tough times and hard work in order to appreciate and be grateful for the good in life. If you do something stupid or bad, then you need to take responsibility for it!
Let's bring back Common Sense. I'm really worried where humanity will end up if we don't.
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Isn't it Ironic?
I was stopped in traffic at the center of town, on my way home from work. Six days from the day I picked Allia up, I was still basking in the euphoria of her newness. It was 4:30 sunny and hot, but her A/C kept me comfortable. Then it happened. BUMP! The car rocked at impact. It took me a moment to realize what had happened. I checked the rearview and saw the car behind me backing up.
No, you did not just hit me! My new car and you hit me?! I was pissed.
I threw her into park and got out. The other driver got out. He was about 4' 10". "Did I give you a lil love tap?" I looked at my bumper. There was a damage. "You dented my bumper!" I couldn't believe it. "I don't see it." He said. Yea, just like you didn't see my car! Right in front of you! "Well, I see a dent, and I want to exchange papers. I haven't even had the fucking thing a week!" The vehemence of my profanity showed in his startled wide eyed look. That's right dumbass, be very afraid. I just might be a psycho chick that will go postal on you. He raised his hands, as if telling me to calm down. "Okay, okay" As he was backing away. "Pull into the parking lot." I ordered.
Emotions and adrenaline were coursing through my veins. I hadn't been in an accident that required the exchanging of papers in 23 years. I finally have a pristine vehicle that I care about and this happens? My mind fumbled for what information I was supposed to give. As my nerves calmed a bit, I realized the man bore a resemblance to two brothers I remembered from my highschool days. We pulled into the parking lot of a limousine service off the main road. I quickly grabbed my registration, pen and paper. He tossed his license on the hood of my car and went to retrieve his registration. I looked at the name and confirmed my suspicions. He was the older of the two brothers I had recalled. His younger brother was in my class, until he dropped out. They were almost like twins. Both very short of stature, with bad attitudes and a penchant for getting into trouble. There was a passenger in his vehicle too. He had an alcohol aged look about him. I could see that not much had changed over the years with this man.
After I had gotten my license and we were documenting the information, I started to calm down. "I went to highschool with your brother". "Yea?" He wasn't impressed. I imagine he was dealing with his own stupidity of the accident and thoughts of increased insurance premiums, not to mention the fact I was making such a big deal out of such minor damage. Too bad, so sad. The righteous bitch in me had taken control.
I asked him what had happened as he was going back to his car. "I fell asleep. " He said matter of factly. "You try working construction 9 hours in this heat and get into an air conditioned car". He was actually trying to justify it! "I worked at UPS for 9 years, loading and unloading 130 degree trailers in the summer, I never fell asleep at the wheel". But then again, I didn't stop for a sixpack on the way home either. I cannot say for certain this was the case. I didn't get close enough to smell any alcohol, but I know the type. I was married to one for 8 years. Perhaps that's part of the reason why he didn't argue the damage. After all, if I had called the cops, things could have been a bit worse for him.
I had to sit and gather my wits for a few minutes. How ironic that this couldn't have happened when I was driving Old Reliable? I'm supposed to have the luck of the Irish, not this Murphy's Law crap! Okay...Relax....You were lucky, the damage was minor, probably just cosmetic. But it's my brand new baby! Chill, it could have been a lot worse. You were very lucky. Now it's out of the way. Done. What you were most afraid of happening has happened, get over it.
I had to share the incredulity I felt, so I called Darlene. "You'll never guess who just ran into me, literally". She didn't get it. I explained what happened and she gave me the sympathy I was seeking. I eventually got a hold of Dad and told him my story. Always the optimist, Dad confirmed that it could have been a lot worse. "The dents & dings are going to happen, you just got it out of the way early."
I went to the insurance appraiser today. No appointment necessary, just show up between 12 & 4 on Mon, Wed or Fri. I entered the back basement door of a fairly new building. The only indication of the appraiser's office was a paper printout taped to the door. I knocked and entered.
The odor of stale cigarettes permeated the air. The detritus ( I finally get to use the word detritus) on the worn gray carpet indicated that the space had not been vacuumed in ages. The office contained a couple file cabinets beneath the open window, a computer sat on a lone desk with two half empty sodas and a Dunkin Donuts bag, a threadbare black cardigan hung sadly on the chair. An oversized and outdated copy machine took up the remainder of space. This was my appraisers office? This looked more like the office of a B movie gumshoe.
I sat in one of the two, stained with God only knows what, chairs that appeared to be a waiting area. The screen of the PC went into standby mode. I noticed a worn leather bag and a cell phone sitting on the desk. Someone had to show up eventually, so I waited.
20 Minutes later, the door opened. It was comical. We both surprised each other. He was dressed in beige dockers and a grey & black print golf shirt that was 2 sizes too big. The baggy pants were held up too high by a pair of black suspenders. The lines on his forehead were accentuated by the coke bottle bottom glasses and butt hanging from his mouth. He was the white, senior version of Steve Erkle, and I imagined I had shown up at the precise time of his afternoon newspaper reading on the thrown.
His appearance contradicted his efficiency. Once I pointed out the damage, he snapped several digital photographs at different angles. At a glance, he took down all the pertinent information to gathering an estimate of damages: 4x4, cruise control, no sunroof, automatic, 6 cylinder, A/C. He informed me that I would receive a letter in a couple days and I was on my way. I left, wondering at the seedy, lonely appearance of his job. A job I would not want in a million years.
Now, I wait for the letter, estimate of damages and hopefully a check. If I do receive anything, I'll put it towards the insurance premium instead of getting it repaired. I pray to the Powers That Be that this is the extent of the dues I will pay for the kindness they have shown in granting me the blessing of owning a new vehicle.
No, you did not just hit me! My new car and you hit me?! I was pissed.
I threw her into park and got out. The other driver got out. He was about 4' 10". "Did I give you a lil love tap?" I looked at my bumper. There was a damage. "You dented my bumper!" I couldn't believe it. "I don't see it." He said. Yea, just like you didn't see my car! Right in front of you! "Well, I see a dent, and I want to exchange papers. I haven't even had the fucking thing a week!" The vehemence of my profanity showed in his startled wide eyed look. That's right dumbass, be very afraid. I just might be a psycho chick that will go postal on you. He raised his hands, as if telling me to calm down. "Okay, okay" As he was backing away. "Pull into the parking lot." I ordered.
Emotions and adrenaline were coursing through my veins. I hadn't been in an accident that required the exchanging of papers in 23 years. I finally have a pristine vehicle that I care about and this happens? My mind fumbled for what information I was supposed to give. As my nerves calmed a bit, I realized the man bore a resemblance to two brothers I remembered from my highschool days. We pulled into the parking lot of a limousine service off the main road. I quickly grabbed my registration, pen and paper. He tossed his license on the hood of my car and went to retrieve his registration. I looked at the name and confirmed my suspicions. He was the older of the two brothers I had recalled. His younger brother was in my class, until he dropped out. They were almost like twins. Both very short of stature, with bad attitudes and a penchant for getting into trouble. There was a passenger in his vehicle too. He had an alcohol aged look about him. I could see that not much had changed over the years with this man.
After I had gotten my license and we were documenting the information, I started to calm down. "I went to highschool with your brother". "Yea?" He wasn't impressed. I imagine he was dealing with his own stupidity of the accident and thoughts of increased insurance premiums, not to mention the fact I was making such a big deal out of such minor damage. Too bad, so sad. The righteous bitch in me had taken control.
I asked him what had happened as he was going back to his car. "I fell asleep. " He said matter of factly. "You try working construction 9 hours in this heat and get into an air conditioned car". He was actually trying to justify it! "I worked at UPS for 9 years, loading and unloading 130 degree trailers in the summer, I never fell asleep at the wheel". But then again, I didn't stop for a sixpack on the way home either. I cannot say for certain this was the case. I didn't get close enough to smell any alcohol, but I know the type. I was married to one for 8 years. Perhaps that's part of the reason why he didn't argue the damage. After all, if I had called the cops, things could have been a bit worse for him.
I had to sit and gather my wits for a few minutes. How ironic that this couldn't have happened when I was driving Old Reliable? I'm supposed to have the luck of the Irish, not this Murphy's Law crap! Okay...Relax....You were lucky, the damage was minor, probably just cosmetic. But it's my brand new baby! Chill, it could have been a lot worse. You were very lucky. Now it's out of the way. Done. What you were most afraid of happening has happened, get over it.
I had to share the incredulity I felt, so I called Darlene. "You'll never guess who just ran into me, literally". She didn't get it. I explained what happened and she gave me the sympathy I was seeking. I eventually got a hold of Dad and told him my story. Always the optimist, Dad confirmed that it could have been a lot worse. "The dents & dings are going to happen, you just got it out of the way early."
I went to the insurance appraiser today. No appointment necessary, just show up between 12 & 4 on Mon, Wed or Fri. I entered the back basement door of a fairly new building. The only indication of the appraiser's office was a paper printout taped to the door. I knocked and entered.
The odor of stale cigarettes permeated the air. The detritus ( I finally get to use the word detritus) on the worn gray carpet indicated that the space had not been vacuumed in ages. The office contained a couple file cabinets beneath the open window, a computer sat on a lone desk with two half empty sodas and a Dunkin Donuts bag, a threadbare black cardigan hung sadly on the chair. An oversized and outdated copy machine took up the remainder of space. This was my appraisers office? This looked more like the office of a B movie gumshoe.
I sat in one of the two, stained with God only knows what, chairs that appeared to be a waiting area. The screen of the PC went into standby mode. I noticed a worn leather bag and a cell phone sitting on the desk. Someone had to show up eventually, so I waited.
20 Minutes later, the door opened. It was comical. We both surprised each other. He was dressed in beige dockers and a grey & black print golf shirt that was 2 sizes too big. The baggy pants were held up too high by a pair of black suspenders. The lines on his forehead were accentuated by the coke bottle bottom glasses and butt hanging from his mouth. He was the white, senior version of Steve Erkle, and I imagined I had shown up at the precise time of his afternoon newspaper reading on the thrown.
His appearance contradicted his efficiency. Once I pointed out the damage, he snapped several digital photographs at different angles. At a glance, he took down all the pertinent information to gathering an estimate of damages: 4x4, cruise control, no sunroof, automatic, 6 cylinder, A/C. He informed me that I would receive a letter in a couple days and I was on my way. I left, wondering at the seedy, lonely appearance of his job. A job I would not want in a million years.
Now, I wait for the letter, estimate of damages and hopefully a check. If I do receive anything, I'll put it towards the insurance premium instead of getting it repaired. I pray to the Powers That Be that this is the extent of the dues I will pay for the kindness they have shown in granting me the blessing of owning a new vehicle.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
For sale: 91 Plymouth Acclaim
Start having A...Great life.
I wish I knew how to add the music from the commercial here. No copyright infringement is intended of course. I just want to brag about my new baby, and I keep hearing the commercial in my head every time I get in her.
I call her, Allia the Kia. I know - not that great - but you find something that rhymes with Kia. Wasn't there a song called Alliah? Gonna have to Google that.
Dad drove us up Thursday, the 16th to pick her up. I want to give a big shout out to Shawn at Peter's Kia in Nashua, NH. He did a great job getting the car ready, all spiffed up and with a full tank. The paperwork was a breeze and he answered all my questions about maintenance and breaking her in. He was a pleasure to work with. If you live in the area and are in the market for a new vehicle and are considering a Kia, E-mail me. I'll hook you up with my man Shawn, the "referral incentive" has nothing to do with it of course. Wink. Honestly, I love my vehicle and would strongly recommend checking out Kia to anyone considering buying new.
Ahhhh - the smell of a new car. Nothing like it.
I read the manual cover to cover. I want to stay on top of all the maintenance and take good care of her. Do you know that I only have to get the oil changed every 7,000 miles? I had never heard of such a thing. I thought it was always 3,000 - 3,500 miles, no matter what. Just goes to show how much I know about new cars.
Freedom. Freedom to drive wherever I want, whenever I want, without the worry of breaking down and having to call Dad for help. Quiet. No rattling or creaking. I roll up the window and all the noise goes away. Smooth ride. My fillings are finally safe from potholes. The premium stereo rocks, I hear nuances in music I never heard before. My son is the one turning it down, for once.
I've done some research on SUV tents. They have a sock on them that attaches right to the back of the SUV. Throw an air mattress in the back and you've got a high & dry bed. I see a camping vacation in our near future. A real vacation where we get away from the house, first one in 7 years.
I know, I'm prattling on like a new parent.
I want to thank izchan, mydogischelsea, kfarmer, cicibug and of course, Magazine Man for your support and encouragement.
Most of all, I want to thank my Dad, for his unconditional love and guidance. Finally, he doesn't have to worry about me driving around in a shitbox anymore.
If you know anyone looking for a '91 Acclaim that needs work, I've put Old Reliable on Craig's List.
Who Knows Best?
Later that day I received another E-mail with an attachment:
XXX Federal Credit Union
Hello Member, Your auto loan application has been approved! Here is a list of following documents needed to finalize your loan:
If purchasing from a dealer:
etc...etc..
Thank you,
Marie Matthews
Lending Representative
XXX Federal Credit Union
Do you believe it?
"Your auto loan application has been approved"
How fucking awesome is that?
I stared at the screen. I previously thought I would scream and yell my yahoos to the world if I got it. But no, I sat, I stared, I reread it, and I started to cry. I couldn't help it. The last few years have been so financially tough. This meant that part of my life was over. All my hard work, all the going without, the emotional stress, the feeling less than.........it was over. A load I had carried for years had been lifted from my shoulders. I had found my way back to a credit worthy grown up. Those years of hardship streamed down my face, washing away so much more than I can convey here. I felt 100 pounds lighter (if only that were true), I started holding my head a little higher & smiled a lot wider.
It took me a few minutes to compose myself. Then I called Dad.
"Hi, I just got an E-mail from the Credit Union......(in my saddest voice ever)"...."Yea?"......"I got the loan". My voice was almost a whisper......Dead silence. "You got the loan?" " Yea." "But you sounded so...you were trying to make me think...arrrrgh...youuuuuuuuu!"
A little bit of payback only sweetened the pot. I could pick up the check the next day, Thursday.
Then I did my happy dance and told Dad, "You really do know best".
XXX Federal Credit Union
Hello Member, Your auto loan application has been approved! Here is a list of following documents needed to finalize your loan:
If purchasing from a dealer:
etc...etc..
Thank you,
Marie Matthews
Lending Representative
XXX Federal Credit Union
Do you believe it?
"Your auto loan application has been approved"
How fucking awesome is that?
I stared at the screen. I previously thought I would scream and yell my yahoos to the world if I got it. But no, I sat, I stared, I reread it, and I started to cry. I couldn't help it. The last few years have been so financially tough. This meant that part of my life was over. All my hard work, all the going without, the emotional stress, the feeling less than.........it was over. A load I had carried for years had been lifted from my shoulders. I had found my way back to a credit worthy grown up. Those years of hardship streamed down my face, washing away so much more than I can convey here. I felt 100 pounds lighter (if only that were true), I started holding my head a little higher & smiled a lot wider.
It took me a few minutes to compose myself. Then I called Dad.
"Hi, I just got an E-mail from the Credit Union......(in my saddest voice ever)"...."Yea?"......"I got the loan". My voice was almost a whisper......Dead silence. "You got the loan?" " Yea." "But you sounded so...you were trying to make me think...arrrrgh...youuuuuuuuu!"
A little bit of payback only sweetened the pot. I could pick up the check the next day, Thursday.
Then I did my happy dance and told Dad, "You really do know best".
Monday, June 27, 2005
I just remembered
I just thought of something. Today would have been my 19th wedding anniversary.
Usually, it's a few days after before I realize it. It's a passing thought though.
I wonder which asylum I would be at if I had remained married?
Hey, it's either that or which cemetery would hold my headstone!
Usually, it's a few days after before I realize it. It's a passing thought though.
I wonder which asylum I would be at if I had remained married?
Hey, it's either that or which cemetery would hold my headstone!
Of Slumlords, Greaseballs, Lackeys and Lawyers
I called my parents as soon as we got home. I was finally excited at the possiblilty of owning a new vehicle, one I had picked out, something I had always wanted to have.
I got the E-mail Monday morning:
Hello,
Your loan has been placed on hold. Please show proof that your civil judgment is paid and then your loan will be re-submitted to the loan officer.
Thank you,
Thank you? Are you kidding, Thank you?
How can I give them something I don't have? I did the only thing I could do, I E-mailed my lawyer. Yes, I actually have a lawyer for this particular credit problem.
I had to get a lawyer, the landlord served me with eviction papers. Things went like this: In September '03 I sent a letter to my landlord asking what he had on his records for the total arrears I owed. I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. I never got a response from him. I sent another letter in February '04. I finally got a response in April '04. I had a meeting with them and the number they had was almost $6,000 more than my record. "Well, you have to figure in the 18% interest" the slick landlord smirked. I almost shit a twinkie. When did they start charging me interest? I was never told they were going to start charging interest. That's why I paid off the high interest credit cards first! I kept my mouth shut. I didn't want to blurt out or agree to anything without thinking about it first. Plus, I think I was in shock. You also should know I had not missed a rent payment in over two years.
The Greaseball (I really started hating this man at this point) and his lackey manager had a great idea to help me out. They would knock a couple grand off the total and I could refinance! They gave me the name and number of a broker that could help me out. How kind of them. I agreed to pay double rent in the meantime. I needed to make some home repairs and clean up my credit report before I could apply for refinancing. I set up automatic payments with the bank and got busy on the rest.
Come October I had still not applied for refinancing. I just wasn't comfortable with it. There was no way I would get it with the judgment on my report anyway. I had gotten a two E-mails from the manager throughout the summer - checking on my progress. Jeez - They couldn't be bothered to respond when I contacted them, but the opportunity to grab a large lump sum of change lit a fire under their asses. I wasn't worried, I hadn't missed a rent payment in 30 months, plus I'd paid $2k more in 5 months towards the arrears. That should keep them quiet for a bit, or so I thought.
A couple weeks later I received an eviction notice - come up with the full amount (which was now $2000 more than the original amount, despite what I had paid!) within 30 days or go to court an face eviction. I hit rock bottom at that point and sought out Mom & Dad's help. Mom gave me the money to retain a lawyer.
The lawyer contacted Mr. Greaseball. Mr Greaseball wasn't too happy, he thought he had an easy mark, he thought he had me over a barrel and I would give in without a fight.
He thought wrong.
I was sent their payment records to compare with my own. I had set up a spreadsheet with dates, amounts and check numbers so it only took an hour to reconcile that the payments matched. My record was sent off to Mr. Greaseball for him to do the same.........3 months later my lawyer had to re-contact him, because he never responded. "I got busy with other problems" was his only justification of inattentiveness. Hmmm.......I thought this was important enough to try and have me evicted over? He was going to fax out another record for me to compare to my own. "But we already did that" Was my response to my lawyer. He understood my feelings and assured me all was in control. I was making regular payments, it had gotten to a point where they would have to refile if they wanted me evicted, and he totally questioned the legality of their interest charges. They would have a hard time explaining their actions in court. He recommended I just continue making payments as I was. So I did.
Cut to June '05 and my E-mail to the lawyer. He contacted my credit union and sent them a copy of the judgment (which, by the way is $20,000 lower than what was on my credit report). He also told them how much I had already paid and what my current balance was (about $2500). I would have to show them my records of payment and something from the autopay department showing proof of payments. I E-mailed the credit union contact letting her know that I had everything. She told me to hold onto it until I heard back from her - the loan officer was reviewing what the lawyer had sent them.
I didn't know if that was good or bad.
I got the E-mail Monday morning:
Hello,
Your loan has been placed on hold. Please show proof that your civil judgment is paid and then your loan will be re-submitted to the loan officer.
Thank you,
Thank you? Are you kidding, Thank you?
How can I give them something I don't have? I did the only thing I could do, I E-mailed my lawyer. Yes, I actually have a lawyer for this particular credit problem.
I had to get a lawyer, the landlord served me with eviction papers. Things went like this: In September '03 I sent a letter to my landlord asking what he had on his records for the total arrears I owed. I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. I never got a response from him. I sent another letter in February '04. I finally got a response in April '04. I had a meeting with them and the number they had was almost $6,000 more than my record. "Well, you have to figure in the 18% interest" the slick landlord smirked. I almost shit a twinkie. When did they start charging me interest? I was never told they were going to start charging interest. That's why I paid off the high interest credit cards first! I kept my mouth shut. I didn't want to blurt out or agree to anything without thinking about it first. Plus, I think I was in shock. You also should know I had not missed a rent payment in over two years.
The Greaseball (I really started hating this man at this point) and his lackey manager had a great idea to help me out. They would knock a couple grand off the total and I could refinance! They gave me the name and number of a broker that could help me out. How kind of them. I agreed to pay double rent in the meantime. I needed to make some home repairs and clean up my credit report before I could apply for refinancing. I set up automatic payments with the bank and got busy on the rest.
Come October I had still not applied for refinancing. I just wasn't comfortable with it. There was no way I would get it with the judgment on my report anyway. I had gotten a two E-mails from the manager throughout the summer - checking on my progress. Jeez - They couldn't be bothered to respond when I contacted them, but the opportunity to grab a large lump sum of change lit a fire under their asses. I wasn't worried, I hadn't missed a rent payment in 30 months, plus I'd paid $2k more in 5 months towards the arrears. That should keep them quiet for a bit, or so I thought.
A couple weeks later I received an eviction notice - come up with the full amount (which was now $2000 more than the original amount, despite what I had paid!) within 30 days or go to court an face eviction. I hit rock bottom at that point and sought out Mom & Dad's help. Mom gave me the money to retain a lawyer.
The lawyer contacted Mr. Greaseball. Mr Greaseball wasn't too happy, he thought he had an easy mark, he thought he had me over a barrel and I would give in without a fight.
He thought wrong.
I was sent their payment records to compare with my own. I had set up a spreadsheet with dates, amounts and check numbers so it only took an hour to reconcile that the payments matched. My record was sent off to Mr. Greaseball for him to do the same.........3 months later my lawyer had to re-contact him, because he never responded. "I got busy with other problems" was his only justification of inattentiveness. Hmmm.......I thought this was important enough to try and have me evicted over? He was going to fax out another record for me to compare to my own. "But we already did that" Was my response to my lawyer. He understood my feelings and assured me all was in control. I was making regular payments, it had gotten to a point where they would have to refile if they wanted me evicted, and he totally questioned the legality of their interest charges. They would have a hard time explaining their actions in court. He recommended I just continue making payments as I was. So I did.
Cut to June '05 and my E-mail to the lawyer. He contacted my credit union and sent them a copy of the judgment (which, by the way is $20,000 lower than what was on my credit report). He also told them how much I had already paid and what my current balance was (about $2500). I would have to show them my records of payment and something from the autopay department showing proof of payments. I E-mailed the credit union contact letting her know that I had everything. She told me to hold onto it until I heard back from her - the loan officer was reviewing what the lawyer had sent them.
I didn't know if that was good or bad.
Thursday, June 23, 2005
Father Knows Best
I was sitting around the pool with my Mom and Dad on a hot presummer Saturday the 11th of June. My son was with his Father, a rare occasion. All I had to do was drop him off locally to a graduation party of a friends son. It was 3 o'clock and the ex was already inebriated, lovely. Only child was driving me up the wall and, when pressed, the ex informed me his wife would be driving and she was sober. "Drop him off and he'll be out of your hair. We'll keep him overnight and drop him off in the morning". "Fine". Geez, can you help it? It's only been over a month since you've seen your son! You talk like you're doing me some kind of big favor! He's your son too! My actual thoughts ran on the more profane and insulting track - but you get the point.
I told Dad that I had filled out an online auto loan application with the credit union. It was incomplete because I didn't have the actual vehicle cost, make/model or VIN # to fill in. I would head to the dealership tomorrow to shop. I expressed my doubts at a loan approval due to my bad credit.
I had run up considerable debt on credit cards. At the time it happened, I was salaried once a month and making $21,000 a year. My daycare costs ended up being close to 50% of my salary and the ex wasn't paying his support. I had to pay for daycare, I had to put food on the table.....So I would get cash advances on my credit cards. Eventually it got ahead of me and I couldn't even pay the minimum anymore. I was too ashamed to ask for help. I should be able to support my son after all. I made $87 a month too much for any kind of assistance such as food stamps. I also couldn't afford to pay my rent. I own my home but rent the property. So, I blew off rent as well. I got in deep.
Just when I was about to file bankruptcy, I got my present job. It was considerably more money than I had been making. The commute was much further - but worth it. Long story short - I paid off all the credit card debt, and the balance of the rent debt will be paid off in November. But my credit report still looks like hell because of it all.
"You'll get the loan, Father knows best. You've paid off all the credit cards, you've been making double rent payments for over a year. You'll get the loan". Said Dad. "And I suppose I'm going to have to admit you were right and I was wrong if I do?" "No, just tell me Father knows best, and stop being so negative". He chuckled.
Son was dropped off at 10:30 AM Sunday morning. He informed me that they had actually spent the night at the party and slept in a camper. "Daddy was so drunk he fell out of the bed". Wonderful. What the hell was I thinking when I married him? "I stayed up till 12:30. " Great, now you're going to be tired & cranky" "Did you have a good time?" I asked, belying my inner turmoil. "Yea, they had a live band! First one I've ever seen..It was so cool!" He was home safe and sound, he had a good time and his Stepmother watched out for him. I didn't want to probe any further into his Father's behavior and have him pick up on my anger, so I let it drop. I walk a fine line with my son and his father's relationship.
We headed north to Nashua, NH.
I had researched out a Kia Sportage online. It's what I wanted. Affordable, great warranty and quality product at a reasonable price.
There were only a few Sportages on the lot, many more Sedona's. A Steel Silver one caught my eye - 4x4, and lower than what I saw priced on line. It had everything I wanted - A/C, power everything, 4x4, and they would give it to me for $170 over dealer invoice. "Let's do it" I said to the very nice & helpful salesman, Shawn. One thing that was great about my experience was that I wasn't stomped upon by an overenthusiastic salesman as soon as I hit the lot. There was no pressure.
The paperwork was drawn up and signed. Now, I just had to cross my fingers and pray that Father really did know best.
I told Dad that I had filled out an online auto loan application with the credit union. It was incomplete because I didn't have the actual vehicle cost, make/model or VIN # to fill in. I would head to the dealership tomorrow to shop. I expressed my doubts at a loan approval due to my bad credit.
I had run up considerable debt on credit cards. At the time it happened, I was salaried once a month and making $21,000 a year. My daycare costs ended up being close to 50% of my salary and the ex wasn't paying his support. I had to pay for daycare, I had to put food on the table.....So I would get cash advances on my credit cards. Eventually it got ahead of me and I couldn't even pay the minimum anymore. I was too ashamed to ask for help. I should be able to support my son after all. I made $87 a month too much for any kind of assistance such as food stamps. I also couldn't afford to pay my rent. I own my home but rent the property. So, I blew off rent as well. I got in deep.
Just when I was about to file bankruptcy, I got my present job. It was considerably more money than I had been making. The commute was much further - but worth it. Long story short - I paid off all the credit card debt, and the balance of the rent debt will be paid off in November. But my credit report still looks like hell because of it all.
"You'll get the loan, Father knows best. You've paid off all the credit cards, you've been making double rent payments for over a year. You'll get the loan". Said Dad. "And I suppose I'm going to have to admit you were right and I was wrong if I do?" "No, just tell me Father knows best, and stop being so negative". He chuckled.
Son was dropped off at 10:30 AM Sunday morning. He informed me that they had actually spent the night at the party and slept in a camper. "Daddy was so drunk he fell out of the bed". Wonderful. What the hell was I thinking when I married him? "I stayed up till 12:30. " Great, now you're going to be tired & cranky" "Did you have a good time?" I asked, belying my inner turmoil. "Yea, they had a live band! First one I've ever seen..It was so cool!" He was home safe and sound, he had a good time and his Stepmother watched out for him. I didn't want to probe any further into his Father's behavior and have him pick up on my anger, so I let it drop. I walk a fine line with my son and his father's relationship.
We headed north to Nashua, NH.
I had researched out a Kia Sportage online. It's what I wanted. Affordable, great warranty and quality product at a reasonable price.
There were only a few Sportages on the lot, many more Sedona's. A Steel Silver one caught my eye - 4x4, and lower than what I saw priced on line. It had everything I wanted - A/C, power everything, 4x4, and they would give it to me for $170 over dealer invoice. "Let's do it" I said to the very nice & helpful salesman, Shawn. One thing that was great about my experience was that I wasn't stomped upon by an overenthusiastic salesman as soon as I hit the lot. There was no pressure.
The paperwork was drawn up and signed. Now, I just had to cross my fingers and pray that Father really did know best.
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