Minnesota "Nice", Down and Dirty

My Throat is Sore: How I Nearly Crashed My Car

So, today I found myself in a bit of a predicament.  I was driving 70 miles per hour down the freeway, talking on the phone (hands-free, mind you) to my buddy Quigs about ideas for Kevin's anniversary gift.  Suddenly, I see a GIANT (well, actually kind of small) black spider on the dash of the car.  Thank the good lord it was on the dash, and not on my lap.  That being said...

I quickly hollered to Quigs that there's "A SPIDER A SPIDER!!", and grabbed a leftover (slightly greasy) napkin from the center console and started frantically trying to smash the gigantic arachnid, whilest continuing to scream, "ACK!!!! STUPID SPIDER!".  He FELL down the face of the stereo, and ultimately (I'm still screaming here, and now dangerously swerving in and out of 4 lanes of--thankfully very light--traffic) ended up BY. MY. FEET. 

So, suddenly, I'm screaming even more, laughing simultaneously, and thankfully had slowed down to a mere 60 mph as I swerved, stomped, threw the napkin and began tucking my pants into my boots.  Then I realized that maybe...actually PROBABLY (still screaming, top of lung...just ask Quigs)...the spider was already IN my pants, and by tucking my pants into my boots, I had just given the spider a free hall pass to begin spinning webs and having babies IN MY PANTS (and probably my boots too).

So, I untucked my pants, and explained to Quigs that I wasn't screaming "FIRE, FIRE", but actually "SPIDER SPIDER", and that he didn't need to dial 911 after all.  I continued to stomp, tuck, and untuck, and glance nervously at my feet (yes, still driving very fast down the freeway, but getting ever closer to my beloved exit!). 

At the top of the exit, as I was about to turn, I yelled at Quigs, "THERE'S THE SPIDER!! ACK ACK!!! CRAP!  THERE HE IS AGAIN!", and I saw him over near the door, on the floor.  WHEW!  At least I knew where the little bugger was.  At the stoplight, I calmly opened the door and Mr. Spidey crawled right out. 

I guess he was smarter than me. My throat hurts from all the screaming, and he escaped unscathed. 

Can you believe I'm not even scared of spiders?  I just really didn't want one on me while I drove.  Isn't that ridiculous??  He's also smarter than me because of that dumb logic! 

"Surely there's more going on in your life than Batman?!?!"

Yeah, so it's been a waaaaay long time since I've blogged (again).  I oughta be smacked, eh?  Well, today I got a virtual smack from my buddy Squirrel Girl, and a well-deserved smack!

You see, I have basically been non-stop travelling for the past month.  I was in Chicago twice in two weeks, then immediately boarded the back of the Harley for our trip out to Sturgis, and 1 1/2 days later, boarded a plane for a week's worth of training in Fort Myers, Florida (before all their storms hit, thank god!). 

I'll hit some quick highlights, since I obviously don't have pictures and videos downloaded from Sturgis yet. 

*Chicago #1:  nothing much was interesting, other than 2 near-death experiences with regards to cab rides.  Granted, most cabbies in Chi town drive that way, but I have now instructed myself not to pay attention and look at the road ahead.  I will merely read quietly.

*Chicago #2, a week later:  I enjoyed this trip, as it was with my new boss (and great friend), so we had some good times shopping on Michigan Avenue after our training was done, and I bought a purse for our departing nanny there.  (It was a super-cute, and on-sale Dooney & Burke, BTW)  We had great sushi, and Norma's head almost landed in our neighbor's food when I made her laugh.  Classic!  Nothing else interesting to note.

*Sturgis:  Always a good time!  Soon, you shall see a piece on this very blog which talks about my thoughts about South Dakota's terrain, that I conjured up whilest riding "bitch" for several hundred miles and stretching my butt muscles on a regular basis.  I can't say much more than that, but in my mind the piece is very, very funny.  I'm sure I've just ruined it, because when it actually gets written it is likely destined to be merely mediocre. 

*Florida:  Blu Sushi.  Go there.  Other than that, I can only say that I love my buddy, Bernardo, from Mexico, and it was fun hanging with my former co-worker (and now current co-worker) Sara, from LA.  Bernardo and I Blu Sushi'd it both nights, and Sara joined us on the 2nd, after our raving review.  The head chef is an international law student. I sure wish he'd just keep his day job and have no other aspirations.  I plan to go to Blu Sushi at least once every time I go to Fort Myers, which will probably be once a year.  He should hold up his plans until I leave the company, don'tcha think?

Other than those trips, my time has been spent with the children who missed me, and whom I missed as well.  Oh yeah, and catching up on work, since being gone that much can really screw things up!

Coming soon:  Photos, videos, and perhaps a story or two.  AND, my piece on South Dakota.  That is a can't-miss!

I'm always in trouble at the airport

So, late last week I was asked to go to a conference in D.C. Right now I am on that flight, but barely!

I have nearly perfected my timing to the airport, without much waste. Gone are the days when my dad insisted I/we be at the airport 3 hours before our scheduled flight time. Now, I leave my house (understanding the current traffic, based on time of day and day of week, and what airline and gate I'm leaving from) and give myself barely enough time to get to the gate, but I seem to time it perfectly. 97% of the time, I get to the gate with 5-10 minutes to sit there doing nothing. I feel like a pro.

Except today. My flight was out of a different terminal, which was a good thing! Instead of the main terminal, I left out of the smaller, more efficient Humphrey terminal. I left my house (which is 30 minutes from the airport) at 6 am. My flight was at 6:55 am. I get to the airport at 6:30, and got scolded for "getting there at the last minute".  I got on the plane, the doors closed, and we left.  Let's just say, I hate wasting precious time at the airport when I could easily utilize it in bed!

Ah well, if it's not one thing it's another!  The last time I flew, I had 3 little xenon lightbulbs in my purse, that they thought were bombs.  In reality, we'd just moved, and all the bulbs in our main floor guest bathroom were blown, and of COURSE you couldn't just buy the replacements at Home Depot or anything.  So, I had them in my purse to show all the fancy-schmancy lighting stores to see if they had the bulbs we needed, and had forgotten to take them out of my purse.  Oops!  20 minutes and a thorough body cavity search later, they believed my story about the lightbulbs, found no bomb residue on my person or in my belongings, embarrassed me by dropping a fistful of tampons onto the floor, and I went on my merry way through the airport to gate G21, a new shade of crimson. Normally, I would have been late for that flight, since I never allow for cavity searches, but in this particular instance my flight was delayed by *exactly* 20 minutes.  Go me!

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I've now arrived at my hotel. It is amazing.  It's right on the Potomac (is it pronounced Pa-toh-muhk, or Pa-toh-mack?? I think I've been pronouncing it wrong for the last 30 years or so--oops), and just opened in March.  I'm digging it.  Gorgeous!  It's name is the only thing that sounds ridiculous to me: Gaylord National.  I know it's supposed to be historic or something, but Gaylord is just the worst name ever!  Gaylord Focker.  Case in point. 

I need to lie down right away though.  I caught this crazy cold on Thursday night, and flying with head congestion absolutely tortures a person. I didn't know that until today. I always thought people were exaggerating, but they SO WERE NOT!  My head feels like it is going to explode, even after 4 ibuprofen tablets.  I'm sure it will go away in a few short days.  Either way, my game face must be on!  I have to entertain, damn it!

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Hmmm...steak or seafood? I'm going for the seafood.  I'm rather partial to our midwestern corn-fed beef, and local seafood on the East Coast. Yum!

Acne, or Bling?

So, yesterday Kevin and I went out for lunch together.  Nice, eh?  It really was.  Anyhoo, when our server approached our table, I was in the midst of a recent zit discovery.  I rarely get them (thank god), so when I found it, I was a bit freaked out and kept feeling it to make sure it wasn't getting bigger (it was, especially given the OIL in my hands, stupid girl!). 

So, while I was touching my gigantic zit (which at this point had gone unnoticed by anyone else) the server looks at my hand touching my enormous chin zit, and says, "WOW, that is HUGE!". 

I look at little Miss Perfect Complexion (at least in HER mind, apparently) in shock and horror and basically explain that I'm about ready to get my period, so the pimple is hormonal. 

She gives me this blank stare and says, "Um, I was talking about your ring."

Kevin's reaction?  That kind of intense, body-shaking laughter that is pretty quiet (he was trying not to be loud) and that is so violent that you know he's about near the explosion point.  Tears streamed from his eyes, and when he finally was able to catch his breath, he complimented me on the look on my face when I thought she was talking about my disgusting "acne". 

I hope his stomach muscles hurt today.

Eating Some Crow

Okay, so maybe I jumped the gun a little bit on Kevin's friend (the one who wizzed on the sofa). Kevin's on his way over right now , and he told me again how he didn't really like my airing this on my blog.  I actually kind of agree: Not only did he own up to the issue, he apologized profusely and stepped up to the plate on making it right with us. Granted, it was gross, and he should have said something about it sooner (and I do think he's a weirdo).  But, the fact that he's making it right now certainly redeems him quite a bit in both Kevin's and my eyes. 

So...I know I can be a bit hot-headed and quick to be snarky if something really sets me off (and it did, as you know), but in this case, I think maybe I jumped the gun a bit on my severe level of anger.  I should have known that he would do the right thing, and I wasn't as fair as I could have been about it in this forum especially. And, I spoke for Kevin, when it wasn't my place to speak for him (because it isn't as accurate as what his feelings actually were on the topic).  Sure, it was very wrong, very inconvenient for us, and also costly, but hey, we all make mistakes. Next time he'd just better not drink my good beer! Oh yeah, and I'll put a plastic wrap on the furniture.

My bad.  Let's blame the hormones!  Anyway, not that he reads this or anything, but I was just feeling a little badly about it. 

Moving on...

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Random thoughts from the week

• Why is it that cop cars and cabs look so much alike? Not the yellow ones or green ones, but the white ones.  They are the same make/model as most cop cars.  I hate slowing down when I don't have to.
• The other day I saw a Florida license plate.  I had never seen a website URL on a license plate before which directs people towards tourism in their state.  I thought it was a great idea, actually!  (myflorida.com)
• These past few years I've been a bit lax in my sunscreen application in the summer.  For one thing, I love that sun-kissed look.  For another, I've been in the sun a LOT more than I usually had been, so I wasn't realizing how much I really needed.  Well, after gazing at my reflection last fall (and seeing WAY more wrinkles than I should at my age--or more than I want anyway!), I decided that I'd be globbing it on from now on.  Too bad about the sun-kissed look, but it is worth it.  BUT, then I found bronzer.  I love it.  Sun-kissed without the cancer and wrinkles!  Do try bronzer (I use Neutrogena). 
• Am I the only person with a pre-adolescent who is absolutely scared to death about junior high coming up in a year?  My kids go to camp at a middle school, and this week they also have summer school going on for the students who go there during the year.  Seeing what my child(ren) could be looking like and acting like in the next few years makes me completely scared poopless.  Fingers crossed that we've laid proper groundwork for them.
• I've heard Tracy Chapman's "Fast Car" twice in a day this week.  I never liked the song, back when it was popular. I like it now, probably because I finally took the time to listen to the words.  It was interesting.  Plus, I was really wanting to drive a fast car at the time, so maybe it was wishful thinking (other than the message in the song--haha!).
• I do not miss commuting.  I hate St. Paul's lack of roadway engineering, and I hate the entrance ramp lights. 
• I was laughing about an "Offensive T-Shirt Contest" they are having on one of the radio stations this week.  I feel like looking up some offensive sayings (not racist or gay-bashing, just funny offensiveness) and make a shirt for myself. Any ideas?
• I think I love John Mayer's music.  He's kind of a Chach, but I just feel like chilling out when I hear his sound.
• Speaking of Chach, am I the only one interested in seeing Scott Baio's (aka "Chachi" from Happy Days) new reality show?  How could that Chach be 45 and single, and think he's all that?  I never was a Scott Baio girl.  I really liked Bo Duke.

Buh-bye for now!  Happy weekend!

A Crazy Time of Year

It wasn't until I married Kevin that I noticed how "different" Minnesota is.  Probably because my earlier childhood memories from when I lived here were pretty faint, as well as the fact that my parents didn't really embody Minnesota like a lot of the folks around here do.  And, when Tim (my ex) and I moved here back in '96, neither of us really knew what to do, other than what we did in Iowa (which wasn't much, other than drink beer and play games).  Kevin, however, grew up epitomizing the upper Midwest, and all it has to offer.  Minnesota and Wisconsin are very similar in their outdoor activities, and he did (and does) it all.  For that, I will be forever grateful!

Needless to say, it still surprises me when I see a snowmobile literally buzzing down our street (on a snowy patch).  We don't live in the country...we live in the suburbs!  It is a very common occurrence to see snowmobiles just scurrying around the neighborhood during the winter.  It actually kinda cracks me up, and it looks SO fun!

Also a fairly common occurrence, is the neighborhood getting together for family outdoor fun. At least a few times a winter, the hockey playing guys in the neighborhood set up a boot hockey game.  If necessary, they clear the snow off the pond (usually the one across the street, not the one in our backyard), and set the goals up.  The neighborhood kids take control of the other part of the ice, and skate and mess around in the snow for the few hours we're out there.  The people who are merely spectators (that would be me) have a couple of choices:  Sit on a dock and watch everything that's going on, or go to one of the neighbor's bonfires on shore, warm up and watch what's going on. 

It probably isn't what some of you would call "fun", but when you live in a snowy, cooler climate, sitting indoors getting fat and eating bon-bons all day every day just doesn't seem as fun as socializing with the neighbors, getting the kids (both young and full-grown) out for some fresh air and exercise, and enjoying what mother nature has provided for us.  You bundle up for what the weather is currently offering, and go inside when you get cold.  It's actually quite awesome!

And, as you already know, our kids get out quite often to ice skate on our pond, or go sledding or skiing.  Trust me, it is so much nicer to have them outside, having a ball, than arguing over who won the last game of Hungry Hungry Hippo. Plus, they are always completely exhausted by the end of the day, leaving many hours of canoodling and hanging out by their parents!

All-in-all, though I love the hot, steamy weather of summer and all that it has to offer (yes, our summer activities are much more fun in my opinion!), winter is growing on me.  I had no idea how much fun it could be!

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Did I ever tell you all the story about my "expanding" belly, and the issues that have arisen because of it?  Nope, I don't think so. I think I started typing about it, and then my computer died (Ahhhhh...my new one is so much better!). 

Anyway, as you know, I'm over 20 weeks pregnant now.  And, if any of you had seen me pregnant with my other two, your guess may be that I'm carrying in a similar manner.  Yes, indeedy.  Never mind the dizzying shirt, here's what I'm looking like these days: http://spetterson.typepad.com/photos/my_fat_belly/index.html

A few weeks ago, I decided that my tight jeans (yes, they were tight before I got pregnant) probably wouldn't fit me too long, and I don't really own any stretchy type of pants, other than sweats (which are my new BFF's).  SO, I decided to get some things on oldnavy.com.  First off, they were a fantastic deal.  They had pants for $6.99, and a couple dresses for $20, etc.  I ended up getting $180 worth of stuff, knowing that I had nothing borrowed from anyone else (I have no recently pregnant friends who live around here!!), and knowing that I got a ton of stuff for that $180. 

I got my cache of Old Navy maternity garb, and immediately knew that I'd gotten the wrong size on most of it.  I bought what they told me to buy: my same size as normal.  I put the pants on, they'd fall down.  I put the skirts on, they would plummet to the floor.  I put the dresses on, and I looked like I could house a family of circus clowns.  BUT, there were two pair of pants that totally looked like they would work.  They were a sort of yoga-type pant, and looked as though they could be worn by a non-pregnant person as well.  The rest were taken back to their home land, Old Navy, and I reminded myself to never buy maternity clothes on line again.  By sheer cosmic humor, the only time in my life I am considered petite or small is when I am pregnant.  Ridiculous!

I headed off to Target the very next day in those yoga-ish pants, all bundled up in a long coat (it was cold!), and scarf.  About half-way through the store, I kind of tripped on the bottoms of my pants.  Hmmm...I didn't remember them being this long before!  I reached behind my long coat to pull up my pants, and promptly yanked my underwear so far up my butt (which is pretty far, since I was wearing a thong already!) that I literally made a yelping noise.  Realizing that they *weren't* my pants, I reached down to look for the pants' waistband. 

I reached, and I reached...*finally* reaching it all the way down my butt.  They were JUST about to slip past the chubbiest part of my rear-end, which would have been complete disaster!  As it was, my entire arse was exposed (including my now bloodied butt-crack from yanking on my underwear), save for the long, warm, covering winter coat that I had worn for the very first time this season.  *WHEW*!

So, what did I do from there?  I HAD to make sure my pants stayed up for the remainder of my trip through Target.  I pulled them all the way up and tucked them into the bottom of my bra.  Sure, they were now total high water pants, but I tell you what...that sure beats having them fall down again! 

This is probably one of my all-time favorite self-deprecating, embarrassing moments of my adult life.  The only one that could possibly beat it is the one where I hadn't realized that the "Chapstick" I'd smeared all over my chops on a long drive back from Iowa, was actually Burt's Bees tinted lip balm, reminiscent of Bozo the Clown in its 1/4" past the lip margins haphazard application.  That one still makes me laugh pretty good each time I tell it.

Bargain Basement Prices...If You Just LOOK!

I used to shop in stores.  Now, I have no desire. At all.  Today was yet another reason as to why I prefer to shop on line ONLY.  Well, yesterday as well.  Here's why:

Samantha decided she wanted to take dance class this year, after a 4-year hiatus.  And, after that many years, her feet have grown.  In fact, in the last 3 weeks her feet have grown!! From a 6 1/2-7 women's, to an 8!!! Anyhoo, I digress. I had to get the kid some new dancin' shoes since the ones from 2002 won't fit any longer.  Don't think I didn't try.

Yesterday I went into the dancing shoes place, and they got the shoes Sam needed.  $55 each pair, tap and jazz.  So, $110. Thank goodness there is no tax here. I bought the shoes, tried them on the child, realized I needed another size bigger, hopped on the Internet and found BOTH PAIR for $46 total. FORTY-SIX DOLLARS TOTAL! That's right...so now Samantha gets a leotard and dance pants too.  And it is STILL only $86!!  TOTAL!

I do NOT like brick-and-mortar stores.  Too much overhead, and they obviously rape people to make an insane profit.  And, not too many people are smart enough to check other resources, so they end up continuing to allow such awful price hikes.  "Convenience"?  Just plan ahead for shipping time, and you'll do well.  And save ooooooodles of money!

So, once, this week in fact, I did not plan ahead.  We have company coming up to our cabin-ette (we got our new one last weekend!!), and we forgot to get enough sheets, blankets and inflatable beds to accommodate.  I had to go to a retail store.  BUT...I did get some pretty decent deals!  Even Overstock.com (O, O, O...the big big O...Overstock.com...) couldn't beat Linens-n-Things' prices on a few items. 

I found these really nice Izod (yup, the little Alligator dude, of which I always got the Sears knock-offs) jersey sheets.  Twin-sized...wait for it...$9.99.  Woo!  Anyway, I was very pleased with some of the deals I got on the $400+ cabin goods I had to get.  Maybe I could have gotten some stuff cheaper on-line, but hey...I forgot to order on time.  I deserve the hit.  Let's call it a virtual bitch-slap for being too dumb to remember sooner!

Anyway, my dear friends, we have saved tons just by shopping on-line over the years.  Just this summer, we saved over $1,000 on stainless appliances, $9,000 on our cabin-ette, and numerous birthday and Christmas gifts.  That is a ton of cashola, y'all.

I adore shopping on-line. Can you tell?  I've never really liked the mall (other than the really naughty trips the girls and I would take to South Ridge during high school...no, not stealing, don't worry Mom!), but that had less to do with shopping, and more to do with other stuff.  Darnit, why did I invite my 'rents to read this??  Anyway, I'm not really a shopper, unless I'm doing a girl thing, which mostly includes books, kids' clothes and perhaps a frappuccino.  Shopping and crowds annoy me.  No crowds on-line!

I know, I know...I have sung the praises of on-line shopping for a while now, but it bears saying again:

Take heed.  Shop on the Internet! Save money!

Growing Up

It seems as though once in a while I come to a bit of a crossroads in my life, completely unexpectedly, and have an epiphany or two.  I just realized that I have grown up.

Even though I am on my 2nd marriage and am a fairly seasoned mother, I think I was sort of in a place in my life (for the first 34 years, apparently), where I didn't truly grow up.  Suddenly, just today, I realized that things had changed.  For the better.  You must realize that I will never totally grow up, as that will probably be impossible for me.  And, my definition of "growing up completely", equates to absolute boredom and doing nothing for oneself (thus losing a sense of self), so hopefully NONE of us ever get to that point.  I'm reminded of my semi-cranky grandmother here, and I refuse to be that. Ever.

I realized that this was the most fun summer I have ever had.  It has been incredibly fun, but not irresponsible, which I have been prone to in the past.  I have had the honor of spending more quality time with my children than I ever have in my life, and it has been amazing.  I have witnessed both of my children, and my step-daughter, learn how to swim well.  I have seen my daughter turn over a new leaf and exhibit so much bravery and boldness that I actually learned something from HER.  I have seen Damon lose two teeth, get ready for kindergarten, and learn to ride his bike without training wheels.  I have seen them take in their new "sister" as their own, and play and fight just like true siblings. 

  This summer I have seen the kids try new things, such as fish, ride in the tube, and collect sticks for the fire--things I had no capacity to offer to them in the past.  I have seen them become close when they needed to lean on each other, when their best furry little pal left them without warning.  I saw them build a rock memorial under the deck, where their little Alyce will always be thought of.   

I have spent the summer with the love of my life, and realized that even though I had it pretty good before, I settled.  Never settle.  It's so worth the wait, and now I know that.  I have experienced things that I never thought I'd experience.  No, not another trip to another fun or unique (or new) place...that is okay, but not like this.  I've learned so much from my new husband, and have in turn learned a lot about myself during that process.

Most recently I have learned that my daughter's feet are officially HUGE!  I have been calling her my St. Bernard puppy for years, because her paws are so big compared to the rest of her.  I mean, she's not small by any means, but her feet are definitely bigger than expected.  I took the kids to the shoe store yesterday (you know, a "real" one, where they actually fit and sell shoes for a living...a place where the average shoe costs $90), and they sized their feet.  Sam is in a 6 1/2-7 WOMEN'S!!  That's right.  She's 2 sizes smaller than me.  She's 9 years old.  Damon's in a 13 1/2, which also surprised me.  His Target shoes are only 12's, so I guess his dad's been a bit off on those!  Not that I blame him...I've been sizing them both incorrectly all along!

Anyway, I think I'm about ready for the 3-Day walk on Friday.  I have lots of wicking clothes, two pair of very nice (read: expensive and comfortable, and apparently well-fitting) shoes, water bottles, moleskin, band-aids, an air mattress...well, I won't get into details, but let's just say I think I'm fairly ready.  Well, other than being grossly under-trained, but that's another story altogether. 

I know this is totally mushy (other than the huge feet and the 3-Day thingy), but I guess I'm just pretty content, despite all the absolute torture this past year has brought to the table.  I'm less than a month away from my 1-year anniversary with Kevin, and I feel very fortunate to have found what we have together.  Sure, we have ups and downs just like everyone else, but we are just good together.  I've spent too long trying to figure out what I'm supposed to be when I grow up, and how I'm supposed to feel when things are right, and well...now I know.  Too bad it took so long, but at least it didn't take forever.

Evil Best Buy, Redux

Everyone has their reasons for hating Best Buy.  Well, not everyone, but people who have choices (apparently) of where they want to shop. They realize that nobody at Best Buy knows what they are talking about. That is IF you can find someone to help you.  Granted, it is a Minneapolis-based company, and I didn't mind giving them my business back before "the incident".  I still didn't like *going* there, but it was fine otherwise.   And, since I talked in my last post about how I don't like Best Buy and not all of my dear readers have been reading since last August, I think I need to recap.

About 16 months ago I ordered a new range and television set for my town home.  With my then boyfriend, I got the TV unboxed, home, and installed the same day.  The oven needed to be delivered.  My then boyfriend went back to the hole he crawled out of...I mean, his home in Atlanta, and I was prepared to receive the range and range hood in a few days. 

The delivery guys came and brought the range.  One of them was outside unwrapping it, and the other came in to measure and prepare my old range for disposal.  When my back was turned he smacked me right on the ass! I am not kidding.  Of course I had no idea what else this weirdo would do, so I just backed off, and the other guy came in, and they finished up and left.  I immediately called the police and Best Buy. 

The police came, took my statement and began investigating.  The guy, when interrogated, admitted to doing it...open hand, his left hand over my right pocket, it was probably hard enough to hurt, and he remembered doing it but forgot to apologize and didn't mean to do it.  Um...what?!  Anyway, Best Buy's stand:  "He has a clean record and has never been accused of this before.  You are obviously mistaken."  That type of attitude. 

The guy was put on trial (of course...he ADMITTED it), and agreed to plead guilty and have it dropped from his record if he had no similar incidents in the next 12 months.  Um...hello Best Buy?  Time to at least fire this jerk.  And apologize to me.  But...no.  It was, "we did no wrong, we're dropping it". 

Single mom. Living alone.  Home officing.  HAVE to trust people coming into my home for things like repairs, deliveries (home office=UPS daily), etc.  I'm physically/sexually violated in my own home while I am alone.  He admits it. Best Buy does nothing.  Not only that, but I go through the entire trial process...which doesn't end for 4 months after it began. I have a friend (hi Jules!) who works for BB, and even SHE was pissed at how they handled it!  Kevin got a free gift card from work for some sales contest he won.  He is giving it away. It was a very big deal.

No, I am not ever buying anything from Best Buy ever again.  Can you blame me?

Think of it this way...if you are Jewish and you are waiting for this guy to deliver your range, and he arrives wearing a swastika and begins talking about Hitler and why you should be immediately eliminated...and when he leaves you call the company and they're like, "Oh...well, he's never had complaints like that before!  It's obviously YOUR problem, and we will ignore it.".  You'd feel the same way. 

If you are black, and the delivery guy begins talking about the kkk and how he routinely burns crosses and how you are completely inferior to the white race, should be delivering HIS appliances, and basically disrespects you in every way possible, racially.  And then BB decides that, again, he has never had a report on his record regarding this type of behavior, so he MUST be innocent?  Even if he says, "Well, yeah, I DID do that!".  You would never. Ever. EVER shop there again. I'm pretty sure of it.

And if you are very ugly, it would be like the guy walked in, said, "No WONDER you are single. You are the ugliest person I have ever seen.  I can't even stay long enough to install this, because your ugliness is permeating my soul and making me feel icky inside!".  And then you complain...and again, Best Buy says, "Well, what do you look like?  If you're truly that ugly, you shouldn't invite people into your home.  Your fault."  See what I mean?

So, it is not political why I hate Best Buy.  It is purely personal.  And to me, a former single mom who worked hard to do the right things and be a good role model to my children (and others)...that is what I get.  Nice, huh? 

ID10T--Operational Error

One of my favorite things that I learned at my first "real" job (real=job I liked and drew my career from), was an error code given to those who basically did something boneheaded, or wasn't using their noodle.  Say I'm trying to start my PC and it just won't work...once the tech support person says, "is it plugged in?", and perhaps it wasn't (NO, this didn't happen to me, I am giving an example.  Sheesh!), then the tech would then turn in his helpdesk ticket and on it would say, "Issue:  ID10T error".  Get it?

Well, lately I've been having several ID10T errors, with regards to my mobile phone.  In the past, I have had an accidental affinity for calling people without meaning to.  In other words, not locking my phone, and disturbing their peace with a phone call from my over-stuffed purse or linty pocket.   Those kinds of calls are never pretty.   I have taken to locking my phone on a regular basis now...at least when I'm thinking about it (obviously there are some gaps, as you'll soon see).

The problem now, is that I have a Crackberry.  And when I lock the Crack and accidentally hit a button, it gives me the option of "unlock", "emergency call" or "cancel".  Well, two times in the past week, my purse-YES, my PURSE- has called 911.  Once in Apple Valley, and once in Savage.  What happens in these circumstances, is the 911 operator hangs up and then calls your phone back.  Since both times this happened my phone was in my purse, then I didn't answer the phone either time and got the message, "Hi, this is the Apple Valley/Scott County 911 dispatch.  Your phone dialed 911.  If you have an emergency, please call this number back and stay on the line.  Thank you."  They must be used to that sort of thing, because they sounded all calm.  Okay, fine...they sounded all annoyed. Oops.

Last week, was a little more embarrassing.  I had just gotten finished leaving a message with Tim (my ex-husband), as the kids were wanting to talk with him.  I must have accidentally called him back from my purse, because the next time I looked at my phone I had TWO calls to him.  Once when I left the first message (the one I meant to leave) and again when I was apparently was in the bathroom.  On a not-so-pretty visit.  Good thing we were pretty close at one time, because all he did was say, "Hey, thanks for the messages the other day.  You must have had Mexican for dinner, eh?".  And, of course I bawled, I was laughing so damn hard!

Even worse was tonight.  Well, not worse, but funnier.  I had taken Sam to the store to pick up birthday treats for her to take to summer camp the next day.  After that, we headed to the liquor store to pick up some wine (and a lollipop).  As I put my money purse back into my regular purse I must have called Kevin.  However, I did not know that I had dialed him until about 5 minutes later, as I picked up the phone to call my friend, Nicole.

Throughout that 5 minutes, I had conversed with my daughter, the nearly-9-year-old lovely Samantha.  She had farted, started laughing, and said, "Excuse me!  That was a bad one!" and we proceeded to talk about how we sometimes can hold our gas, and sometimes can't.  I even said, "Yeah, I haven't farted in front of Kevin yet. Not because I'm embarrassed, but because I *can* hold it, and don't feel the need to show off that much!".  Then I proceeded to tell her that I do, however, warn Kevin when he should not proceed into a bathroom that I had been occupying whilest doing my #2 best.  "I told him, Kevin...marry me, marry my poop", mostly to make her laugh.

Laugh she did, and soon I picked up the phone to call Nicole, and I hear laughter on the phone.  He had heard the WHOLE conversation!  He said "Marry you, marry your poop, huh?  Is that what I got myself into?!".  I started crying I was laughing so hard, and Sam could barely move she was so stifled with laughter. 

In the short 3 minute ride home, until we pulled into the garage, we proceeded to work ourselves further and further into a laughter lather.  It was good fun, even if it wasn't so clean!  Needless to say, I still need to lock my phone...even if I accidentally dial 911 on a regular basis.  At least I know they're there if I need them!