What's on the menu?

So there I am at Wal-Mart today... again... standing in the checkout line and mulling over things I could rant about online publicly when it hit me... the front cover of a popular woman’s magazine had a little blurb in the upper right, designed to get people to look inside. Or maybe buy the issue.

The bit said: "4 Things All Guys Crave Hearing - pg. 74"

Well I'm curious as a cat , but not THAT curious. I don't have to pick up the latest issue to know the answer to THAT one... I been married since... ohh... umm... errrrr... well, a while. Long enough to know that without even looking, I could imagine they'd mean things that would stroke his (cough hack cough) fragile (cough cough hack) ego. And no, that's not a euphemism, get yer mind outta the gutter. Besides, if I'd picked up the magazine to see what exactly WAS on pg. 74 of this month's issue, I probably woulda died laughing.

Like I said before... some days I'm soooooooo mature. LOL! I just knew I'd be in trouble from the Hysterics Police if I picked it up to read, so I didn't.

Around this house... the four things hubby-dearest craves hearing kinda go like this:

4. "Why sure, I'll pay all the bills this month, you just keep your paycheck to yourself this month, honey!"

3. "You just put your feet up, dearling, I'll bring you something to eat and drink and fetch the remote for you, would you like me to put in a DVD too?"

2. "Of course you can sit around and do absolutely nothing today! The yard can wait. Why... it's not even two feet tall yet!"

...and the all time top drawer ding ding ding winner of them all...

1. "You. Were. Right."

Of course, if ya know me... that's just sarcasm. But now that I'm home and I can't read pg. 74, I'm curious... what are the four things that all guys crave hearing? I shoulda just picked it up anyhow.

P.S. #2-3-4 are really sarcasm, but number 1 there - that's for REAL. He LOVES to hear me say "You were right." *grin*

Trivial pursuits...

Hey guess what... I'm not going to rant on hubby again, not today. (He just breathed big sigh of relief, hahahah!)

But... I do have a new hobby other than picking on hubby: yelling at the TV. Not just any yelling, I mean yelling trivia answers at the TV during the show "Ca$h Cab" on Discovery Channel. This could be a problem if hubby's trying to sleep, LOL... good thing it's on towards the evening here. And for a whole hour! Woohoo!!

If you haven't seen the show... here's kinda how it goes: The opening shtick says there's some 13,000 cabs in NYC (that's a LOT Of cabs, holy cow!) and only ONE of them, driven by the host Ben Bailey, is the Ca$h Cab. Victims, I mean passengers, hop in and give their destination, then these colorful lights go off on the ceiling and as they jump out of their collective skins he intones "You're in the CASH CAAAAB!!! The game show that takes place right here in the caaaab!!!" and goes on to say they can play the game-show-on-wheels guessing general trivia starting at $25/question on up to $100/question as they get harder. They get two shout-outs if they get stuck: one from some random stranger on the street, and one freebie cellphone call to someone. Miss three times and Ben dumps you out right where you are! Of course - bonus is - nothing paid for the free ride. Except a little embarrassment if you strike out.

Oh the shame of being in the mobile shout-out and the random stranger that you pick has NEVER seen the movie "Gone With The Wind"!!! More yelling at the screen here.

One part I love are the red light challenges. They get a red light and he asks a multiple choice question and the idiots, I mean contestants, have to yell out as many answers as possible in 30 seconds for an additional $250 and there's no striking out with wrong answers. They ask stuff like... ohhh... name 5 of the top 7 schools of law (the group of 4 got that one)... or name 5 of the top 7 fast food chains (2 ladies missed that one)... you'd be surprised what people don't know, they completely blank out under the pressure.

What I really like is not the concept, nor the voyeurism of watching the contestants sweat it out, but the host's facial expressions and side comments. He delivers the questions very clearly and succinctly (got an earpiece on his left ear feeding him info, you can see it sometimes), then from the watcher's viewpoint (cough ME cough) we get to see him grimace, grin, or mouth wisecracks to the camera, often with a quite sarcastic tinge. That's gotta be why I like it... the sarcasm.

At the end of the ride, if they don't strike out and they make it to their destination, then Ben gives them a double-or-nothing video bonus question. Half the time the people take the enticement, and MANY times people miss. I think more than half of the errors are because they're suddenly sweating it out thinking of the all-or-nothing-angle, hearing that Ben just said the question's going to be MUCH harder than the other questions.

Often times, they're not!

Like... asking the young lady 'what state is Old Faithful in'... and showed some pictures of it too, becaaaaauuuuse... tadaaahhh... it's a VIDEO bonus question. She went back and forth between Wyoming and New Mexico... with me shouting WYOMING!!! at the screen, and she guessed... drumroll... New Mexico.

D'oh! Oh the pain!!

Her mom lives in Wyoming, she said. Wanna bet she won't live that down anytime soon? Imagine every holiday, birthday, and anniversary from there on out, her mother gently sticking another pin in the doll... "Remember when you didn't know where Ol' Faithful was, sweetie..." I can't remember how much she lost out on, I think it was gonna be $1200 or $1300 for the right answer. She was on a roll, too! Poor sucker, I mean passenger... shoulda left with the money she'd already won. At least she got a free cab ride across town... but the shame of missing that one... woof. That the material family reunions are made of.

Then... there were the two young ladies that were doing sooooo good, till they got to the video bonus... and missed! ARGH!! The question was about who lived in this palatial estate in San Simeon California. Well, I have gone there so that's why I knew it: William Randolph Hearst. Pretty pics of Hearst Castle, too, very distinctive. They looked like they were gonna cry for missing that. Missed out on $1500 for that boo-boo.

Almost (ALMOST!) makes me wanna go to NYC. The odds of actually landing in that cab would be... astronomical. And expensive, LOL! I'll just stay home and yell at the TV, hehehe. For now I will just yell at the TV.

Men and shopping... and oh yes, cats

Well. The cats decimated another scratching post, the big one with carpet on the base and a big section of sisal rope around the middle of the 4' high 4x4 wood post. I figured, we spent plenty $$$ to buy it new and they love that post, AND I'm handy with hot glue and a staple gun, so I'll just replace the carpeting and sisal, rather than buy a new post. Sisal's cheap, so are carpet remnants.

And apparently I needed something to do.

The problem is... what I ask for wasn't what I got (hmm... rarely is, come to think of it! hahaha). I sent hubby to Lowe's (cuz I had work to do… victims to stalk! emails to write! blogs to update!) for "at least 60' sisal and a 2'x3' carpet remnant". Actually, he had appointment, and he was already out-n-about, that's why he went. Really.

Sound simple, right? I wrote it on paper too.

Not so simple. What I got was 50' sisal and a 1-1/2'x20' remnant.

The man has no spatial relations. And I'm not talking derogatorily about the space between his ears, cuz ya know I think he has that, but he has no idea when I say at least 60' I mean get more than 60' even if you have to get two 50' bundles cuz I'll use it on the other posts too. D'oh! So I showed him why the carpeting wasn't quite right...

Me, holding the way-too-narrow carpet remnant to the now-too-wide flat base: "See? I needed at least 2' wide."

Him, shrugging: "They didn't have carpet remnants at Lowe's. That's all they had where I went."

Me, surprised: "Not Lowe's? So where'd you go?"

He named some carpet store nearby, not where I woulda went but that's okay, I didn't go. There's some other shop I'm thinking of nearer the center of town... but... since I didn't go, I wouldn't complain. Much.

Me, confused: "They didn't have anything more... square?"

Him, repeating cuz I apparently didn't hear him the first time: "No, that's all they had."

Me: "There's more than one carpeting store in this town, you know."

Him, still repeating himself cuz I'm too dense to hear him today: "Yeah... welllll... Lowe's didn't carry carpet remnants."

Me: "I wasn't talking about Lowe's, I was talking about where you went."

Him, repeating like I didn't get it first or the second time: "That's all they had."

Me, resigned: "Fine, I'll put a cheap-n-dirty seam in it, Tigger will rip it out in a week. She has a nervous twitch, you know."

Him, ever the broken record to drive home the point: "That's all they had."

Last night I had counted the loops of sisal, and by size of the post I used my handy-dandy calculator and it came up to 54'. I figured 60' I could wrap it tighter. But no! The stuff only comes in 50' bundles and instead of buying 2 of the 50' bundles (so I could have redone the sisal on a smaller post TOO while I was all hot-n-sweaty - and not in a good way, either, thankyouverymuch!!), he brought back only *one* bundle.

So I wrapped it a little looser, it turned out okay, the post is covered. Cats are happy. I'm tired. That stuff is rough to work with, ugh. And hey - I saved major bucks doing it myself!

But the carpeting... wellll... I had to seam it and I don't think that's gonna last. You should see Tigger and Precious and Sweet Pea dig into the flat carpet part, they're aggressive.

Ya know what's really funny? The cat herd watched the entire time. They were fascinated by the sisal rope all over the kitchen floor.

Hubby watched too. He was fascinated that he matched the carpet remnant so close to what was already on the post. I had to shoo them all outta the room no fewer than five times - with the water sprayer. Gotta love it when I get growled and hissed at - and not by the cats, either, that was hubby!

At least now they have a post that works again, I'd hot-glued it so many times it took me a while to undo all the stuff I'd done to it first, hehehe. That's a big enough craft project for me for this week. And now Tigger won't try and eat the sisal, she was gnawing on the loose ends that had ripped off. That cat will eat ANYTHING, but that's a different blog for another day, she's our little omnivore.

And those flowers up top? That's the blooms from a sisal plant. Pretty, huh?

Multi-tasking and telemarketers...

Woah... multi-tasking overload here. Listening to Creed CD (at FULL BLAST thank you very much) with the headphones on, working, uh I mean playing online and... the PHONE RINGS.

ARRRGH. Gamus interruptus.

I could see the flashing light on line 1 out of the corner of my eye, that's only how I knew it was ringing in the first place. There's NO WAY on God's green earth I coulda heard the bell ringing overtop of Creed thundering out "Torn". No way.

With my left hand, whipped off the headphones, paused the music, picked up the phone, hit line one, and put the receiver to my ear (thankfully it's one of those shoulder-rest models), all without missing a beat on my right hand with the mouse in the game. Hey, told ya I could multi-task!

But hey – that solitaire game is timed, has no pause, and I was winning, and I wanted to STAY winning. I know it's just a game... but I had a bad day and I needed to fuss around in games for a while and have some fun.

Anyhow... I barked, I mean SAID into the phone, "YEAH???" Then I cringed, hoping it wasn't a friend... or worse, my mom calling and I just yelled in her ear.

And... nothing. No response. I could hear something in the background, like a faint gurgle noise, but... nothing. I was hoping I hadn't scared whoever it was into choking.

"Hello?" I said, waiting.

*click* *click* (Gotta keep up with the game )

Just about to hang up, and I was still playing too, I hear a voice say, "Susan?"

*click* *click*

Me, annoyed at having not only my game disturbed - and my winning streak - AND my rock'n'roll session of blaring Creed interrupted, I barked, I mean SAID again: "Yeah?"

*click* *click*

Then some poor bastard, I mean phone solicitor, said something highly-accented and very unintelligible really quickly and no way could I have caught anything of what he said.

Sighing, I said, "I can't hear you, sheesh..." and hung up on whatever he was saying next. He didn't call back.

*click* *click*

Back to the game, thank God. Headphones back on, song un-paused. That's a word, right? Un-paused? Or maybe, for a cat, it'd be un-pawsed? Oh I digress again, silly tangents.

Anyhow... did I mention that the headphones were up really loud? After I hung up, I realized something: THAT'S why I couldn't hear the guy, my ears are ringing.

Woops, my bad. *snicker*

I do loathe phone solicitors. It's an unlisted number here, and usually I give them the shpiel "ThisisanunlistednumberputusonyourDo.Not.Call.EVER.List." and THEN slam the phone down. Surprised I haven't broken it yet.

The phone, not that phrase. It does cut down on calls, but still we get maybe one per week. Used to be a dozen a day. GAG me.

When I was full-time in the office, they used to give me the calls on purpose (I would ask my assistant to do that so she wasn't tied up for the other incoming lines) and so I could vent my daily frustrations on some poor unsuspecting sap that was trying to rip us off for copier supplies.

Some day I'll rant about how many things I used to tell the scammers... mostly it involved running them around in circles, hoping the Logic Police would tell them to just hang up, but no. They'd stick in there for a long, long time... five minutes at least usually - and I kept working in the background, trust me... I can really multi-task! Mostly it would start with them calling and ask what model of copier we had so they could bill us for toner they never send.

Gimme a break. We were a small company and I used to order all the supplies anyhow... so I would know if we were billed for something we didn't order. *sigh* Besides, we had a contract with our copier people - supplies included. Never had anyone call and verify our model - if they did, they were falling down on the job there. Hear that scammers? That doesn't work, don't ask for copier models, people are on to you.

Oh the good ol' days of torturing a toner scammer... now all I get is the people that say they're affiliated with the local Sheriff or firefighters or some who-haw like that.

Now if they wanted to actually send the firemen here to talk to me in person... well... I might consider that. Some of them are quite hot. *grin*

Some Days It Pays To Complain

Okay this is a long one, but worth it. Sit back, relax, grab a cuppa coffee... enjoy.

I don't care what hubby says, some days it pays to complain. He can be as embarrassed if he wants, if I wanna complain, I will. And publicly, too. I'm too old not to, at this point.

Now, I don't mean just complaining for the sake of hearing my own whining, I mean complaining when someone's done something wrong. Like messing up your meal in a restaurant, or telling you they'll have your car ready at such-n-such time and then it's four days later they finally tell you 'oh woops we forgot we had to order that part from Germany!'... ya know... stuff like that. We're all consumers at some point, so if my purchase is whacked out for any reason, there's a right to complain somewhere in there. And I mean I complain nicely, I don't go off half-cocked. If I'm gonna go off, it's fully-cocked.

*cough* *cough* *cough* Don't touch that.*cough* *cough* *cough*

See, it all started innocently. Heck, it always does. Last week, to get hubby outta the house so I could work on my writing, and to make him happy with something to do on his day off, hubby went to Taco Bell. Ooooo I love those Gordita Baja with steak, mm mm mm. Tasty things, they are... when they're made right!

Problem is... what he brought back was a piece of flatbread with just steak and lettuce and a teensy sprinkle of cheese.

Well. Humph. I've had them before, I know what's in them: seasoned ground beef, jalapeño pepper sauce (that stuff is AWESOME), salsa fresca, lettuce, cheese, and since we added steak... carne asada steak. I even looked up their website to verify that's what I'd had before, and compared it to the receipt showing what he'd ordered, AND what he'd paid for were all correct. They'd just screwed up in making the thing, and had skipped most of the ingredients. Ack.

Some days I'm fully passive-aggressive (and this was one), so I figured why complain to them directly by phone when their WEBSITE lets me complain to the head honchos? Soooo I fired off a well-written and stated-clearly complaint, no screaming just stating the facts on when-where-what-how-etc. That was ummm... last Wednesday night I think. Late at night, too, I had to think on it for a while... to complain or not complain, that was the question.

In today's mail - a very, VERY nice apology letter from Taco Bell Corporate, and a coupon for two free items of my choice from the menu. Woohoo! Free lunch, here I come.

Works for me!

Then as I sat here thinking of all the bazillion times I've had something like this occur, I think the absolute best was Arby's:

Quite a few years back, me and a friend had gone to an Arby's that just so happened to have one of the corporate offices NEXT DOOR. And not in a separate building, they shared the SAME front door. You'd think the staff would be ultra-trained at that site, right? Wrong.

I'd asked if the special new ham-n-cheese sandwich on the menu was hot (they don't serve it anymore, not the same way), and it turned out, it was not - it was deli style, but nowhere on the overhead menu or the signs by the cash register did it say that. It even looked hot in the picture, melting cheese and all! And the cashier taking my order told me it was hot, he confirmed it.

When the tray arrived, I said it's wrong, it's supposed to be hot. The employee said no it's not hot, and walked away. Well, that bent me the wrong way.

And so began my life of filing complaints at restaurants.

So I went up to the register with the offending food. THEN... they refused to refund my money because it's what I'd ordered (the previous cashier was on break, what timing). So I walked next door (with the tray). Now this really embarrassed my friend, but I wasn't going to eat cold ham-n-cheese when hot was what I'd paid for and what I'd expected and what my head and stomach and mouth were all prepped for – cold just was not gonna cut it.

Whaddya know, the corporate office was closed for the day. I think it was a Saturday, that's why.

So I grabbed a complaint form, went back to my table, filled out the complaint, stuffed it in the complaint box by the corporate door, along with my receipt and...

...about 2-3 days later got in the mail an envelope with a personal letter apologizing, and the promise that they'd retrain the individuals, AND... a stack (!!!) of free coupons, enough for ohhh a dozen meals and potato cakes, fries, drinks, etc.

Shocked the heck outta me!! All I'd wanted was a refund for 2 small cold ham-n-cheese sandwiches. Did they go over the top? You betcha!! Now that's customer service. Didn't cost them anything in the long run, and it made me an Arby's fan for life, hehehe.

We don't live by that Arby's place anymore, but you bet when we did, I went in there once a week... just to see if I could get them to screw up again. And darn it if I couldn't!! They'd retrained them all very, very, VERY well.

But now... we live near this Taco Bell.

Looks like 'game on' again. *grin*

Movie Night

We have a game in this house... it's loosely called "Guess What Movie Is Playing In Under Five Minutes". There's no prize, other than bragging rights, and bonus kudos to the person that can name the most actors/actresses. So... since it's hubby day off and I need a break from all that month-end hoo-haw, and HBO was playing an old movie from '83 we hadn't watched in FOREVER... it was game on: "Mr. Mom". Cute movie, haven't watched it in years.

And since hubby missed opening credits... he was the obvious guesser:

Him, two seconds after sitting down: "Oh, I know what movie this is!"
Me, knowing he'd draw a blank: "Go ahead, guess."
Him, drawing a blank: "It's umm..."
Me, rolling my eyes: "Don't hold me in suspense, just guess!!"
Him: "It's... umm..."
Me, sighing: "Sheesh. Guess already."
Him: "It's that one where the Japanese..."
Me: "No, it's so NOT "Gung Ho"."
Him: "Are you sure?"
Me, looking for something other than the heavy metal stapler to throw: "Gimme a break, I picked it out, you guess."
Him: "It's umm..."
Me: "Geez. Just watch the movie. When you're ready to guess, just spit it out."

Two minutes later...

Him: "I know what it is."
Me, sighing again: "Okay, which one is it? Guess."
Him: "It's umm..."
Me: "We been through this before, numbnut."
Him: "It's that one with the car industry."
Me: "It's. Not. Gung. Ho."
Him: "Are you sure?"

Me: "It's. Not. Gung. Ho. Really!"

An additional two minutes later...

Him: "I know what it is."
Me, agitated cuz he was taking too long: "Fine. Guess."
Him: "It's that one where he takes over his wife's... umm..."
Me, cutting him off cuz I really wanted to watch it now: "When you know the title, let me know. Just. Watch. The. Movie."

Several minutes later yet (well over the five-minute mark)...

Him, yelling so loud me AND all five cats jumped two feet: "MR. MOM!!!"

I could smell smoke, he'd thought so hard.

I won, he didn't guess it under five minutes, and he only guessed Michael Keaton, completely missing Teri Garr. I tormented him by pulling up IMDB.com and listing all the other movies Teri's been in... he still drew a blank. Until the end credits rolled (that cheater).

The grass is always greener...

So it's now mowing season... again. We have a cordless rechargeable Black and Decker dealie, works great (when it's been serviced properly) and so easy even I can use it. Had it for ohhh 11 years. Hubby-dearling thought it was 15, had to prove to him it was only 11 (ha! I can add 7+4!!).

Anyhow... so he decided to do yard work this morning. After 2 hours of NOT hearing the lawnmower running, I poked my curious head out the door.

Me, watching him walk around the yard aimlessly, sans mower: "What's going on?"
Him, waving a weed-plucking device in one hand towards the garden shed: "Mower needs charging."
Me, scowling: "It was charged two days ago."
Him: "Well somehow it got unplugged." (guess he thinks squirrels did it)
Me, owning up: "Right - I unplugged it because it had been plugged in for a week already."
Him, hands on hips: "Well now it has to charge."
Me: "Are you sure?"
Him: "It has a red light."
Me: "Did you test it to see if maybe it was borderline and you could run it for a while, then charge it later?"
Him: "No, it has a red light."
Me: "Oka-a-ay, fine. Just try it, see if it's charged, I think the red light's a false-negative, it does that sometimes but it still has juice to run."

Ten minutes later...

Him, coming in the door scowling: "Can't mow. Blade just snapped off."
Me, disgusted at another delay: "Oh goodie. Guess that means it don't need charging now."
Him: "No, it needs a new blade."
Me: "You can take care of that, right?"

I could actually hear the grass growing. He just stood there looking at me with a blank look like I was supposed to stop work and go get a new blade from gosh-knows-where.

After two minutes of silent staring, I gave in and got the phone book out.

Me, disgusted further: "I knew I'd end up doing this."
Him: "I'm NOT going to Portland for a blade."
Me, rolling my eyes: "You'll go where the repair place IS, even if it's Portland."
Him: "I'm not going to Portland."

Dug around, found the owner's manual, looked up where the Service Center was... and... and... and... oh joy of joys!

Me, grinning like an idiot cuz I couldn't help myself: "Guess what, you're going to Portland!!"

Okay, I said that a little too gleefully, so sue me.

He growled.

Me, trying to justify: "It's not far, sweetie, it's just south of us right across the Columbia, barely into Portland, see?"

Held up a map to show him where it was. He studied it, grunted, then walked away. I went back to work.

He came back two minutes later in his jammies.

Me: "Ummm... hellllllo... does 'lawnmower need a blade today' mean anything to you?"
Him, plopping down in recliner: "I have to go TODAY?"
Me: "When would you suggest going?"
Him, thinking it would be a week before next day off and obviously hearing the grass growing too: "Umm..."
Me: "Get the mower and all the stuff in your car. It probably needs more than just a blade, so take everything with you and they can look at the whole thing. I'll print a map from Google for you. It's not far, you'll be down and back before you know it."

The grown man cussed and growled at me the whole way down the hall - at least that's what I think he did, I tuned him out. Thank God for earplugs, I say.

He disappeared to the garage in street clothes, then ten minutes later he came in sweating with a triumphant look on his face.

Him: "Had to wrestle the thing into the car."
Me: "I coulda helped you, you know, that sucker's kinda heavy."
Him: "Well... it's done. So there."

We're so mature, I almost stuck my tongue out at him but I didn't. He's been complaining about the mower for the last year. "It doesn't cut like it should!" "We need a new mower!" "It runs down on its charge too fast!" "We need a gas mower!" "I can't cut the lawn with this mower!!" and it never stops.

Well, if he replaced the blade when it got dull or chipped (takes an Act of Congress for him to do that), charged it properly (which he's never learned how), replaced the battery pack (another feat of modern science he doesn't understand yet), got the thing serviced ONCE IN A WHILE (don't get me started there), there'd be no whining. I usually tuned him out. Most of it sounded like "blah blah blah lawnmower blah blah blah" anyhow. The mower's his responsibility, not mine. It's not like I'm foisting off my own task, it's just that he said it was his thing years ago, so he can handle it on his own, right?

Turned out to be a bad-news-good-news thing: bad news, our old mower was broke and old, 11 years. The deck was pitted with holes, needed major work for almost $200 PLUS the cost of a new deck. But good news was that for $299 (and no sales tax cuz it's Oregon! yay!), we could get a factory like-new reconditioned model - a NEWER model too with better controls and better handle and everything - with all new stuff today with no waiting and wonder of wonders, they'd scrap out the old beast for us. Being this is the PNW and they're recycle-happy everywhere and especially here too, that's a bonus for us - no trash dumping fee, no figuring out what to do with a busted out-of-date mower with a battery pack that would have to be handled by a HazMat Team.

Me, just one hour later after the beginning of the whole fiasco: "You happy now?"

He just grunted. I took that as happiness. At least it wasn't whining or growling or cussing.

So we got a 'new' mower. Thing's a beauty too, I might just take up mowing again - if he'd let me touch his new toy. Did he remember to take the old grass catcher, charger, and mulching device? No, darnitall. But... hubby-dearling's happy. Hopefully I won't hear any whining for another decade until this one dies.

I can dream, can't I?