Hmmm, guess I forgot to put a title on this one
Apparently my friends and I are not the only ones who loves The Golden Girls. I wonder though, how many people get together with their girlfriends and figure out who they'd be on the show? I'm TOTALLY Sophia.
Second thoughts...
Not 10 minutes ago, I updated this site to include a quote that I found enjoyable listed at the top of the page: "I don't regret anything I've ever done, as long as I enjoyed it at the time." It was said by Katharine Hepburn, who passed away today at the age of 96. I thought it was a good way of saying that I had no regrets about anything I've done. If I regret something, it tends to haunt me. I beat myself up. I think about way too often, to the exclusion of things that are very likely much more important. So I tend to look at "regrettable" actions and "regrettable" periods in my life as learning experiences.
I told Bryan that I had found what quite possibly might be my second favorite quote (behind the e.e. cummings quote on the left), and he made a "face" before he responded. Just as he started talking, I realized... you know what? I have a friend who caught her significant other cheating on her this weekend. He was probably enjoying himself. Charles Manson was probably enjoying himself. Jeffrey Dahmer was probably enjoying himself. Osama bin Laden was probably enjoying himself. I could go on. I'm removing the quote, as quickly as I put it up. I'll probably replace it with the e.e. cummings, moved from its place at the left, to its new home at the top, as my favorite quote should be.
Busy busy busy
Not much has happened, but I haven't had time to update either. Will write more when I get a minute or ten.
Mom's insurance update
I got the following e-mail from the New York State Department of Insurance, regarding the e-mail I sent them (entire message copied and pasted:
Dear Ms. XXXXX,
Insurance companies typically have procedures in place to try to determine what their actual risks are on a policy. This generally includes determining who is in the household. Nothing in Insurance Law prohibits them from collecting this underwriting information. However, in the end, they are only entitled to collect premium for actual risks. We suggest you assist your mother in providing what information you can that you are no longer part of your mother's household.
If your mother finds the company's requests unreasonable, she can file a formal complaint and we will investigate. Go to the Consumer section of our website (www.ins.state.ny.us) and you will find instructions to file a complaint on line or in hardcopy. We will advise you in writing of our findings.
So, nothing in the law prevents them from requiring this information, they are only entitled to collect premiums on actual risks, and they're suggesting that I cooperate. Again, WTF???
Woe update
The car needed an alternator. Bryan still doesn't have it back since the shop was a little swamped today. Bryan also said there might be something else wrong with it too, but at the time we were both too tired and weary to talk about it anymore. His mom, my most fabulous wonderful mother-in-law, is picking up the tab.
It's kind of scary though, how an emergency car repair or two could potentially have us living back with the in-laws.
More woes...
Maybe we should just rename today to "Woesday." Bryan just found out that after months of being dicked around by Lands' End, they're now outsourcing their digitizing to a company in Texas.
I could just cry. We're more than broke, he needs a new job, and there's no other company around here where he can freaking put his goddamn 12 YEARS of embroidery experience to use. FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!! He's going to have to start all over in a new industry after doing the same thing for 12 years. I'm really hoping he gets in here this time.
We still don't know what's wrong with the car.
Car woes...
Bryan called me this morning - he was out in front of a little market near his job where he sometimes stops to get a drink or whatever. His car wouldn't start. But of course he didn't have a checkbook or debit card with him, so I have to help him take care of it. Here I am, sitting at work, calling all of these places in the town where he works trying to find someone to tow him and check out his car. His boss showed up to give him a jump right after I got off the phone with the car repair place, but it didn't work. He's at the repair place right now and has no idea what's wrong with the car or how much it will be to have it fixed.
This could not have come at a worse time, financially speaking. "Nothing more than the battery" vibes would be greatly appreciated. You could send money too - I'm not that way. ;)
UPDATE!!! So many people complain about their mothers-in-law, but not mw. Mine kicks ass!!! She's offered to help pay for the car repair. We're still not sure what's wrong, but it's a bit of a relief.
Family crapola
I have had it up to HERE with my damn family's "hush-hush, keep everything a secret" attitude. Some background:
* When I was still in NY, there was one Christmas where my grandmother seemed really out of it - no carols, no piano-playing, nothing. Very unusual. I asked my dad about it and he wouldn't talk about it at first. After pestering, he finally told me that my uncle (who is a paranoid schizophrenic) had gone back into the hospital a few weeks/months prior.
* My grandmother's younger brother and sister were both adopted. My great-aunt Louise (one of the adopted ones) told me about that probably when I was 9 or 10. I asked my grandmother about it a few weeks later and she snapped at me: "she had no right to tell you that, that's none of your business." Not another word was said.
* My grandmother has an older sister. I only found out about this a year ago. Her father's marriage to her mother was his second, and apparently had a daughter with his first wife. But I also have express warning from my father not to talk to her about it because she'd be upset if she knew that anyone was discussing it.
I've been stewing over that last one for a year. But this, THIS is the proverbial straw: My sister told me last night that my 12-year-old cousin has been diagnosed as being borderline autistic. I asked her a few questions (like, what are doing for him, etc.) and my sister said "I don't know. Daddy didn't even want Mommy to tell me."
WHY on earth does my family have to be this way? WHY is everything such a secret?!?! And especially with stuff having to do with mental illness and brain dysfunction? My grandfather died of a brain tumor, my uncle is a paranoid schizophrenic, my cousin (son of a different uncle) is borderline autistic. Almost makes me wonder if anything's in store for my kids.
And then there's the whole family history aspect. I have a sneaking suspicion that my aunt Louise will start talking after my grandmother passes on, but what happens if Louise goes first (doubtful, but always a possibility)? I'm so afraid my entire family history will go to the grave with my grandmother.
I want to talk to my dad about it, but I don't think he'd be willing to talk And I'd have a much harder time doing it over e-mail or phone - he can always just not respond to my e-mail, or give the phone to my mother if I piss him off. I won't see him again until Christmas - and I don't want to ruin Christmas. Shit.
Sad day.
I'm IMing with my friend Dawn, and she just told me that one of her kitties died a few months ago and one of her kitties is dying. They were going to put her to sleep, but decided to give her a few more days. She had 10 cats at one point, and after being away from NY for so long, I can still remember all of their names. Sasha, Cookie, Callie, Clarissa, Delilah, Chad, Noah, JJ, BB and Laudie. Sasha is Cookie and Callie's mom, and Clarissa is mom to Delilah, Chad and Noah. Cookie died a few months ago (vet screwup) and Sasha is dying (FIP). :( Typing through tears isn't easy.
More insurance problems...
This time it's my mom's insurance though, not mine.
So, a couple of months ago my mom was talking to her insurance agent regarding my sister, who is on their insurance. The agent says to my mom "I'm noticing that you have a child born in 1976, why have we never had a record of her on your policy?" My mom explained that I'd always had my own insurance and that I'd moved out of the state in 1998. They asked her to write a letter stating all of that for their files. I thought was lame, but whatever. She wrote them the letter and sent it on its merry way.
My mom calls me yesterday saying "guess what? I got a letter back from the insurance agency today." Well, this letter said that since my mother didn't provide proof that I'd had my own insurance and was no longer living in the state, they'd be adding me as a driver on their insurance as of August 1. WTF?!?!?! So I have to contact the agency I went through when I was in NY and hope to god they have records dating back to 1994 (which might not be as easy as it might seem - they were a small agency and were paper-based), get insurance records since I've lived here (that shouldn't be hard), and a copy of my marriage license, because my name is different.
WTF?!?!?!
A grid? Porky Pig?!?!
This is why I thank the cashier when he/she actually checks my signature.
Is it tomorrow yet?
(This is a duplication for some people, but I wanted to whine here, too)
Okay, so I started coughing again this morning. For those who don't remember, I had freaking bronchitis a month ago.
Then my car insurance company e-mails me to tell me that since my payment due May 28 (I listed it as the 18th elsewhere, my bad) was 13 days late that my June payment has to be on time or else they're cancelling me (which of course is going to turn into a money discussion, which we'd be having right now, but a friend stopped over to discuss a problem he's having with D&D. We've gotten a LOT better about discussing money, but for some reason it still kind of freaks me out).
Then I was pulled over not even 1/2 mile from home. The reason? My furking registration sticker, which I lost last year before I even got to put it on the damn car. It comes due next month (which is another $45 I don't have), which means I've driven the freaking car with what *looks* like an expired registration for 11 freaking months with no problem.
Oh, AND... it took him 15 minutes to verify that my registration was current, because it's under my maiden name at my former address, because I ASSUMED that they update all of your registration info when you get a new license with a new name and a new address. Nope. You have to do it separately, b/c you have to have your car title updated as well, which I'll be damned if I know where *that* is.
Is it time for bed yet? Nope! Because now after the day I've had, I have to spend the rest of the evening (after dinner, which thank god Bryan's making it) cleaning b/c we have company on Fridays.
And yes, I'd like some cheese with this whine. Havarti with Dill, please.
How can I be too chicken to call my owncousin?
My cousin Jim got married a few years ago. He now has two children, the second of which I didn't know about until two weeks after he was born. Seriously - I didn't even know his wife was pregnant until two weeks after the baby was born. Neither did my mom - my aunt and uncle just never thought to mention it, I guess. Anyway, so the second baby, a boy, Caleb, was born with what I was told was "some sort of infection." I never heard anything more, so I figured he got over it and all was well. I've come to find out that he's been sick this whole time - something about his body not producing white blood cells. A doctor at Cincinnati Children's Hospital Medical Center wants to see him (they live in Florida). I wish I had known it was that bad. But I'm too chicken to call since I haven't talked to my cousin since they moved to Florida, probably 8 years ago. I found his address on switchboard.com, so I'll send a card with all of my contact info and let him take the ball from there. I hope Caleb's okay. :(
Must... remember... pills...
TMI Alert
Somebody just shoot me if I forget to get my BCP script filled again. Every time I skip a month of pills, Aunt Flo comes back with a vengeance - extreme crabbiness, exhaustion and cramps. I was cheery when I got home yesterday, but over the enxt two hours, I got more tired, a lot more crabby and very crampy - I knew Aunt Flo was on the way, most likely that night. Sure enough, not even two hours after I got home... I had to take 2 naproxen sodium (generic Aleve) just to sleep last night. I have virtually none of this while I'm on the Pill. It was a giant flashback to when I was in high school and college, when I used to sleep with the heating pad (naughty Kat, I know). Oh, and I'm out of tampons, so out I go to the store at lunchtime, in the 85 degree heat. Ugh. It's just as well, I'm out of shampoo and conditioner, too.
On a lighter note
Jelly Belly jellybeans are currently rocking my world. And there's a Jelly Belly warehouse around 2 hours form me - I'm going to see if some friends want to get together an go on a tour one of these days! :)
Don't read this if you're sick of me ranting about taxes and EIC and CTC
A while back, I ranted about Earned Income Credit and the Child Tax Credit. I was very upset that friends of ours claimed children they didn't even have custody of, got a fat refund and used it to finance their honeymoon to Belize. I was flamed by a few people on a debate board because "the government gives them a check, and it's their money, you can't tell them how to use it." I know I'm not alone though, because I *did* have people who agreed with me (especially in my social group, since the guy was bragging that his kid bought him the tickets, and it was a huge slap in the face to some of our friends struggling on $7.50 an hour that this guy, who sat on his ass for 6 months, got this fabulous reward and there they are financing it). Then the idea came to me. People on WIC are told what they can use that money for, and that's government-provided money, is it not? Make EIC and CTC like WIC. Any money you'd receive over and above whatever you'd get back without those credits is given to you in the form of a voucher, good for housing (rent/mortgage), utilities, child care. EIC is meant to help people who are having a hard time getting by, and the CTC is meant to help kids. I think one person summed it up best: "If you're getting the EIC, it means you're poor. Poor people don't go on cruises. CTC is supposed to help you care for your children since they're so expensive. Kids don't need to go to Disney." I'm sorry if that makes me a bitch. If it does, so be it.
Flat tax. Everyone pays the same percentage of their income. Let the government dole out money after everyone has paid their same percentage. And if anyone else knows of a government-funded "helping those less fortunate" program that just hands people a check and doesn't specify what it must be spent for, I'd love to hear about it.
Karma bites me in the ass
So, Jesse and Lisa (!!!) came over last night to hang out. Lisa said she would call when they were on their way (which would mean they'd be here in about 20 minutes). Well, they never called. We were "inflagrante delicto" when they rang the buzzer, or "inflagrante dick-licko" as I affectionately dubbed it. We didn't get to finish until maybe 2:30 this morning, and it pretty anti-climactic (save for the climaxes) since it didn't take either one of us very long.Late last night Early this morning, I realized that it was my karma coming back to bite me.
Way back in the day (probably 1996 or so), I was expected at Dawn and Anthony's house (who are now Dawn and Ted and in a different house. Last I heard, Anthony got married to someone else and is a daddy now), quite possibly for ER night, possibly for something else. They knew I was coming over, knew I would be over VERY soon. I knocked on the door and rang the bell for a few minutes, then see a very flustered Dawn coming to the door while buttoning up her jeans. Oy. Last night must have been my payback.
Under construction
Please pardon the untidiness, i'm fiddling again. So if it looks really weird around here when you pop in, well... you know why.
UPDATE! Crap on a stick, this is pissing me off.
UPDATE 2! The date's still all funked up and I'm not sure what's wrong with it. If it hasn't resolved itself by later (whenever that is), I'll fix it then. Bleh.
UPDATE 3! Okay, I'm a dork. The code was a little funky. I tweaked it. All better!
No son of mine will EVER be in the Boy Scouts
A gay Boy Scout was kicked out of the organization after publicly announcing that he was gay, after his council announced they would not discriminate on the basis of sexual orientation. When are people going to realize that this is the year 2003?
Gives new meaning to the term "fish head"
Study finds that fish like porn, too. (Courtesy of FARK)
Dontcha just HATE it when your behavior bites you in the ass?
Rob Campos, star of For Love or Money, the new NBC dating reality TV show, was fired from his job after the owner of the firm where he worked decided he didn't like his behavior in the past or on the show. Heh. The firm issued a statement regarding his termination, stating that:
"When Mr. Campos expressed interest in performing work for this firm and maintaining an office with us he did not volunteer the negative information that related to his experience at the JAG Corps nor was this information known to us. The firm conducted a criminal background check, which showed no arrests, no probation, no deferred adjudication or convictions. The firm was not privy to the JAG Corps related complaint during the background investigation as the proceedings are protected by privacy rights."
This guy sounds like a real winner, huh?
Sorry, Mel...
The more I read, the less I want to shop at Wal-Mart. Now they're covering up Cosmo. Oy. Removing Maxim and the like, refusing to sell CDs with explicit lyrics, removing a pregnant Midge from the shelves (despite the presence of a wedding band), etc. The Waltons bow down to the religious right once again. Before you know it, they'll be calling it "The God Store." But of course all the heathen money will still be more than welcome. And of course they can still sell guns. Because you know, shooting things is all God-like and stuff.
I love my job
Sometimes, anyway...
Some little kid just called and said "every time I try to get on the internet, something pops up called CyberPatrol and won't let me on the internet." I told him that his mom or dad probably installed it so he can't see what they don't want him to see. He said "well, I deleted it but it still won't let me on. What do I do?" I told him to ask his mom or dad. He said "my dad never goes on the computer. I must have done it somehow." Oy. I transferred him to tech support (sorry guys, I hope you at least got a laugh out of it).
Charging blindly
I don't know if it's a function of being "poor" (such a relative term), but it never ceases to amaze me how some people just don't bother to read over their credit card statement every month. I just had a customer call to ask why we're still charging his credit card after he called in JANUARY to cancel his account. It's now JUNE. Oh, and BTW, he never called. At least not according to the non-existent notes on his account. AND he logged in a few times in April. Hmmm, I wonder if that would have tipped him off that his service hadn't been cancelled. I just can't imagine... how do you not keep track of what you spend every month? I mean, I can understand with pin money and the like not being able to account for all of it, especially if you operate on cash like my husband (which annoys me - I hate cash - I like to have a written record of where every dime goes, whether check or debit card transactions). But with a witten account of where the money goes? And you just blindly pay the bill every month without looking at why the amount is what it is? My god, if I still used credit cards, I'd be poring over those statements every month with a freaking magnifying glass looking for something that shouldn't be there. I tell you, there are times where I think that living paycheck-to-paycheck actually makes you forces you to be a more responsible consumer. Scary, eh?
Just call me an onion
I apologize for the length, I don't know how to do that thing where you can collapse a long post. That said...
LAYER ONE:
-- Name: Kat
-- Birth date: October 2, 1976
-- Birthplace: Hospital was in Port Jefferson, NY. Parents were living in Stony Brook, NY at the time
-- Current Location: 30 miles from Madison, WI
-- Eye Color: Hazel
-- Hair Color: Brown (not quite light brown, but a little lighter than meduim brown
-- Height: 5'5"
-- Righty or Lefty: Righty
-- Zodiac Sign: Libra
LAYER TWO:
-- Your heritage: Irish, English, German, Austrian, Alsatian
-- The shoes you wore today: Black sandals.
-- Your weakness: Nookie. :)
-- Your fears: Family members dying. I've been lucky enough to not have expierenced that yet at age 26. The time will come within the next couple of years, and I know I won't handle it well.
-- Your perfect pizza: NY pizza. At this point I'm not picky about toppings, having been away from NY for so long, but my favorite was with meatballs, mushrooms and extra cheese
-- Goal you'd like to achieve: To be less defensive.
LAYER THREE:
-- Your most overused phrase on AIM: Don't really use it a lot.
-- Your first waking thoughts: One more snooze
-- Your best physical feature: My eyes.
-- Your most missed memory: The sound of an ICQ incoming message from when Bryan and I were still living 1,000 miles apart and talking on the phone and/or computer every day, baking cookies with Dawn on ER night.
LAYER FOUR:
-- Pepsi or Coke: Diet Pepsi.
-- McDonald's or Burger King: McDonald's. BK fries are nas-tee!
-- Single or group dates: Married, both. I like to have dinner "just us" once in a while, but I also love going out with our friends.
-- Adidas or Nike: Payless
-- Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea: Lipton.
-- Chocolate or vanilla: Chocolate.
-- Cappuccino or coffee: Cappucino.
LAYER FIVE:
-- Smoke: Socially.
-- Cuss: Yes.
-- Sing: Yep.
-- Take a shower everyday: Absolutely.
-- Do you think you've been in love: Yes.
-- Want to go to college: Want to go back someday.
-- Liked high school: Enh.
-- Want to get married: Well, considering I'm currently married, tha'd be a yes.
-- Believe in yourself: Occasionally.
-- Get motion sickness: Nope.
-- Think you're attractive: Depends on the day. But I guess so, yeah.
-- Think you're a health freak: Heh. Um, nope. We *do* try to eat low(er) fat though.
-- Get along with your parent(s): Now that I don't live with them anymore.
-- Like thunderstorms: I used to love them when I was back in NY, but became petrified of them when I moved to WI and found out that they happen to spawn tornadoes here.
-- Play an instrument: The voice.
LAYER SIX: In the past month...
-- Drank alcohol: Yes.
-- Smoked: Yes.
-- Done a drug: Only if nicotine and alcohol count.
-- Made Out: Oh baby.
-- Gone on a date: Not technically.
-- Gone to the mall?: Yes, to get my hair done for Val and T's wedding
-- Eaten an entire box of Oreos?: Unfortunately not.
-- Eaten sushi: No.
-- Been on stage: No.
-- Been dumped: No, but I was stood up for lunch.
-- Gone skating: No.
-- Made homemade cookies: No, but I *have* made mint chocolate muffins, pumpkin spice muffins, brownies and Rice Krispie treats.
-- Gone skinny dipping: No.
-- Dyed your hair: Yep.
-- Stolen Anything: Nope.
-- You sound boring: Bite me.
LAYER SEVEN: Ever...
-- Played a game that required removal of clothing: No.
-- If so, was it mixed company: N/A
-- Been trashed or extremely intoxicated: I went to college - what kind of question is that? Or more specifically, I went to SUNY Stony Brook, where the popular hangout was The Park Bench. What kind of question is that?
-- Been caught "doing something": No.
-- Been called a tease: Yep. ;)
-- Gotten beaten up: Not to the point of being broken or bleeding, but I've been in a few fights.
-- Shoplifted: Hey, my sister might be reading this. I'll admit to drinking, smoking, doing ONE illegal drug (and yes, that really *is* all, see admission below) and having sex (well duh, I'm married), but not stealing. ;)
-- Changed who you were to fit in: Yes.
LAYER EIGHT:
-- Age you hope to be married: Got married at 25.
-- Numbers and Names of Children: None right now. First girl will be Madeline Robyn, first boy will be Garrett Frederick (not my first choice, but compromise is an integral part of marriage, LOL)
-- Describe your Dream Wedding: Princess fairytale.
-- How do you want to die: In my sleep.
-- Where you want to go to college: Been there, done that, burned the t-shirt.
-- What do you want to be when you grow up: But I don't *wanna* grow up!!.
-- What country would you most like to visit: Ireland (been there, want to go back).
LAYER NINE:
-- Number of drugs taken illegally: One
-- Number of people I could trust with my life: I've never really thought about it outside of the obvious (husband, family): .
-- Number of CDs that I own: Mine? No idea. I had a wallet of almost 100 CDs that I left in Illinois a few years ago.
-- Number of piercing: One in each ear.
-- Number of tattoos: None, but maybe one in the future, not sure yet.
-- Number of times my name has appeared in the newspaper?: No clue!
-- Number of scars on my body: Two that I know of.
-- Number of things in my past that I regret: Specifically, none. In general, a few.
Frugal Victory
This should please Kim. HUGE Charbroil gas grill for $45. It's filthy, but can be cleaned. Hooray!!
My mind works differently...
...than people with money. And I got the most proof I've ever gotten of that in the last few days
Over on Frugal Musings, there's been a semi-interesting discussion in the comments section after Kim ranted about Budget Living magazine having some really expensive things that would never fit into someone's budget (a lawn chair for $350? I don't even think my VP-of-a-NYC-commerical-real-estate-company uncle who got his 11- and 10-year old sons each their own laptop for Christmas would spend that much on a lawnchair). I mentioned that I agreed that some of the prices were high (my exact quote was "It's either stuff that we don't need, or is too expensive anyway. That Pottery Barn lamp (an $80 offering from Pottery Barn Kids) blew my mind." Well, after a while this was thrown out there: "Well I think the point is that the target audience for Budget Living Magazine is upper middle class to upper class. Those who have money but still want to be budget minded."
Okay, back the truck the fuck up. We have a magazine called "Budget Living" that's targeted to the wealthy? I responded back wanting to know where my magazine was. "Ghetto Fabulous. For those who have nothing but want to look like they make a living wage." Oh wait, they probably wouldn't even let it have a cool name like "Ghetto Fabulous." It'd probably be called either "Slumming It," or "If You Buy Your Furniture at Vinny's, You Probably Shouldn't Spend the Money on the Magazine Anyway."
Yum yum eat 'em up
I can't believe I forgot to post an update (not like anyone cares, but whatever). The pizza I'd been lusting after was actually pretty decent. The cheese was "enh," but that was just because of the brand they use. But the style was dead on, and will definitely satisfy my cravings until I'm able to get back to NY at Christmastime.
We also wound up going to BW3 that night for some tasty wings. I didn't care for mine, but that was because I got the wrong sauce (Smoky Southwestern). I'll just have to get different sauce next time (mild, sweet BBQ or Teriyaki).
Speaking of things I can't control...
I didn't get the job. And as it turns out, the recruiter lied to me. She said the hiring manager got so many applicants that she decided to narrow down her field to people who had more recent face-to-face customer experience, and who had substantial knowledge of the company's telephone service. And someone in my department got the job. With no recent face-to-face experience and absolutely no knowledge of the company's telephone service. I hate it when recruiters lie. It's just so insulting. If you don't want me, if you don't think I'm not qualified, just freaking say so.
Drama Queen
That's what I've been feeling like lately... a big ol' drama queen. It's been following me around lately. Some I brought on myself (still no remorse), some just falls in my lap (involving one friend's marriage potentially falling apart, one friend's former BF running up her Visa with porn and phone sex, another friend *thisclose* to losing something really big and important that she really wants). I think I need to distance myself for a while. Not to say I won't be there for my friends, but just not get too involved. Say "awww, that's too bad" and offer a hug and not dwell. I'm getting way too stressed out over crap I can't control.