the emergency broadcast system...on crack

"This is the Emergency Broadcast System. In case of an actual emergency, Koolio would have taken her son's baseball bat to the fucking TV set."

Rrrrrrrr.

Remember when we were younger and the EBS gave us those monthly required tests? Usually during that one scene of a program we didn't want to miss?!

I'm not sure how it is where y'all live, but here we have weekly tests. With that bright green screen and the incessant beeping that is just begging to trigger one of my outstanding, throbbing migraines.

Only this morning it was different.

The screen was black and it read that it was a monthly required test.

And then there was another monthly required test a few minutes later. I thought maybe I had an alcohol-induced black out, minus the alcohol, and during that time a whole month had passed but when a weekly required test started beeping at me a few minutes later, I knew something was squirrely.

So far this morning, there has been one weekly required test and about a bazillion monthly required tests. With the new colored screen. I guess black must be the new green. The beeping, however, is still obnoxious only toned down a notch. Motherfuckers couldn't change it to Mozart? Or Jimmy Hendrix?! For the love of Pete (not to disrespect Pete, whomever he may be), I would have even taken Britney Spears whining her way through Womanizer!

And someone please explain to me why Schwartz's fur smells like Doritos?!?!??!

serenaded by the pizza man

Several years ago, the kids and I found a mom-and-pop pizza place that we immediately took to. For awhile, we had great pizza and equally as good service. The delivery guys knew us by name, we were such good customers! Unfortunately, the service started going into the shitter just this past year.

After a few times when the delivery guys showed up minus something we ordered, I started getting annoyed. The last time we ordered from them, about two months ago, the 45 minute wait time we were given turned into an hour and a half and after numerous calls inquiring about our order and no offers of compensation for my children starving for having to wait and then the delivery guy showing up again without something we ordered, I handed the food back to him and told him I was taking my business elsewhere. I told him I didn't necessarily blame him but I was tired of the people taking my order being forgetful and neglecting to put in our entire order. I mean I'm sorry people, but I don't care how hard the restaurant business may be, if you keep fucking up someone's order, then chances are you shouldn't be answering the phone and taking the damn orders!

I thought that I would hear from the owners soon after, apologizing for their fuck-ups and begging us to stay customers. That never happened. Until today.

One of the owners inquired about us yesterday seeing that we hadn't used their services in awhile and our regular delivery guy told him what happened. The owner was mortified and called me first thing today to apologize and that from now on, should I choose to use their services again, he would personally take our order and deliver it if he had to. On top of that, he offered freebies for several months! Not sure I want to go back to them but saying 'no' is difficult especially when my kids love their food!

While talking with this guy, I walked to the front door as I noticed and strange and peculiar odor which turned out to be Schwartz leaving me a rather wet and messy "gift" on my front door mat (which was immediately tossed in the nearest garbage bag, I might add) and the owner said something that caught my attention..."I'll deliver it myself 'cause I know where you live.".

Moments later, the conversation ended and the roar of an engine caught my attention - it was the owner pulling out of my driveway!

I can't seem to get "I know where you live." out of my head!

I'm afraid that he'll put something poisonous in my pizza next time we meet. I think I'll call this slasher film The Pepperoni Man. Heh.

damn you, Nicholas Sparks! DAMN YOU!!!!

I like to read.

I like pumpkin pie too but there's a point to this post.

Even though I'm somewhat of a sucker for chick flicks, I don't always show my romantic side in person. I do find romantic inspiration in books.

I cried when Edward left Bella in book 2 of the Twilight series. If you didn't read it, you won't get that. And if you did read it and didn't like it, go poo up a rope.

Anyway, a few months ago, I finally took the plunge and saw the movie I'd heard so much about, The Notebook based on Nicholas Sparks' book by the same name. I am not afraid to admit that I cried. I probably would have cried more had I read the book, but there are only so many tears I allow myself to shed in a certain period of time. *wink*

So when I was in Target a few weeks ago, having just finished a book and needed more reading material, I didn't hesitate to purchase The Choice by Nicholas Sparks.

*heavy sigh*

I can't say much more than that without giving away the story so if you haven't read it yet, go to your nearest bookstore immediately. Do not pass GO, do not collect $200, blah blah blah, just get the fucking book, will ya'?!

onto more important matters

This past week was quite hectic as my son's basketball playoffs began Monday night and what a week it was! This is one of my longer posts so if you don't care for long, detailed posts then I won't be offended if you choose to bypass this. Otherwise, grab your beverage of choice and let's get down to business!

Monday night's game was against a school that my son's team barely beat during the regular season. And, what seems to be our team's M.O., the boys started off strong and became progressively sloppy towards the end of the game. If they thought the first time they played this team was close, I'd say the final score of 32 to 31 was a tad closer!

But they pulled it off and they moved onto the next round. I was torn between who I wanted them to play - the Baptist school with a boy that was also on the school's football team this past fall who threatened to kill each of the boys on our team or the Christian school, who thought they were hot shit and they could beat everyone. The latter was also the school with the coach who had a big fucking mouth, the same man who once worked as a coach at my kids' school but was fired due to being arrested for DUI and trying to sell drugs to the students.

As luck would have it, Tuesday night we had to play the latter. Us parents rather despise this school for the coach mainly as he instructs his kids to play aggressively. Too aggressively. Within 30 seconds of the game starting, one boy turned around and intentionally pushed one of our kids down with great force. Us parents were so angry, we started screaming to the ref to take the kid out. He did not as the kid was brought over to the coach who either told him to calm down or to do it again, I can't be sure. Whatever he told him, he and another one of his teammates consistently pushed our kids around throughout the game, clearly not being able to control themselves. At one point, I screamed out at the coach that he needed to instruct his kids how to play the game properly. I'll say this...it was a small gymnasium, the noise didn't have far to travel and my negative words attracted the attention of the parents of the opposing team.

To demonstrate the anger problem these boys had, at one point during the game, another boy got tripped up by one of our boys, our boy fell and this boy stood over him with his fist drawn back as if he wanted to punch him! Folks, it was truly shocking how angry some of these 11 and 12 year olds appeared to be but then again, with a coach like that, it wasn't unbelievable.

I had brought with me what I refer to as my Bag of Distractions - a bag full of children's toy instruments that my daughter had collected from her old playthings earlier that day. At the first game of the playoffs, I told parents that I had such noisemakers and I was determined to do whatever I had to to distract the opposing team. At this second game, some of our team's spectators participated along with me and when the other school's team were taking foul shots, we were hooting, hollering, shaking bells, clicking sticks and our strategy was working. It may not have been the most appropriate behavior but it's not like we booed, hissed, told the refs they sucked (which they did), etc.. In fact, after the game, some bitch, a mother of one of the boys on the opposing team, told me from afar that I signed a contract at the beginning of the year that I would not say or do things that would constitute as being mean. I corrected her that I did not do anything that was mean and that she was one to talk since she had a son who clearly needed an anger management course or a few months in juvenile detention. I then turned to a friend and said that my son's dad had signed the contract this year so as far as I was concerned, none of those rules applied to me. *wink*

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Close to the end of the game, one of the pushers was injured. I'm not sure of the details because I looked away at the moment it happened and the next thing I saw was this kid laying on the ground, grabbing his ankle so I don't know if one of our boys unintentionally did something or if this kid was just an asshole and Karma bit him on the ass. I'm assuming the latter occurred.

All throughout the game, one particular ref was making regular traveling calls on our boys and our coach had had enough. Now keep in mind, that this is a man whom us parents never once heard yelling at our boys or instructing them in loud, unproductive ways while they were in motion on the court and how he was able to remain calm through the entire season, is beyond me. Anyway, he fought the call and threw a tantrum like no other! No two-year old with the Terrible Twos would ever be able to do a tantrum justice as this man did! The ref immediately ejected him not only from the game, but from the building! I wish I could have taken a picture of this but it happened too quickly! And the priceless expression on our boys' faces when they realized they had no coach was another missed photo opportunity!

I turned around and told the person who shall not be mentioned here, who was sitting a few rows behind me, that someone had to go to them. There were just a few minutes left in the game and they couldn't do this alone. One of the other fathers flew down from the stands like OJ running from the scene of a murder and helped coach the boys to victory. Actually, I'm not sure what he really did to help other than make sure the boys knew they weren't alone. We were not only very proud of our boys, but we were glad to have put this other team in their place especially since they had been boasting ahead of time how much our team stunk and that they were going to win with ease. Yeah, whatever you little fuckers. It was a perfect sight watching these boys walk away with their tails between their legs.

Am I mean? Am I insensitive to these children? Those of you who've been with me for awhile know that I have a hard time tolerating other peoples' children so please, especially those who deserve to be in a prison cell, so ask me if I care.

After the game, a few things happened. The opposing team's coach came out with his arm around the boy who had an ankle injury and the boy was clearly injured and was crying. My insensitive, bitchy, black-hearted side did not permit me to feel any amount of sympathy for him. Again, Karma. You do something negative, it comes back to you tenfold. Sorry y'all if that makes me a bad person but you had to be there to understand how I felt. Unfortunately for me, his mother overheard me and told me I showed unsportsmanlike conduct. Now, I will admit that there are times I can't control myself and this was one of them! I burst out laughing in her face and said "That's pretty funny coming from the mother of a child who can't control his temper on the court!". I continued to howl with laughter at her comment while I walked to my car! Let's just say that I'm surprised I haven't received any death threats since then.

I later heard a few other stories. A father of a boy on our team, who was exploding with some very loud, negative comments throughout the game, was approached by a father on the other team who actually pushed him! Now I'm not sure what this guy was thinking when he decided approaching a tall, 300 pound black man was a good idea but he did and extended his hand as if to shake it. So Ben, the father of a boy on our team, took his hand and held on tight as this man decided to call him an awful fan, blah, blah fucking blah, and Ben just stood there, holding on and smiling. Finally, this other man knew he was screwed when he couldn't get his hand out from under Ben's grip and actually screamed and pushed Ben away from him, trying to make it look like Ben was assaulting him!

As for our boys' coach, I found out from his wife that he was really mad about the score of the first game our boys had played. Afterwards, he told our boys that they were better than that and they have a tendency to become too sure of themselves and, in turn, slip up. As for the father who ran out of the stands to be with our boys in those last few minutes of the game, the coach had a discussion with him prior to the game that he should be ready as he was so angry he thought he was going to be kicked out of the game!

So onto the championships we went and Thursday night was the big game. Our boys were playing the #1 team and the only game these kids had lost during the regular season was to us so we knew we could beat them and our boys were pumped and ready.

Prior to the game, I made a promise to myself that I would behave! My whole reason for behaving "badly" at the second game was just because I hated the coach and his team and they deserved to be taught a lesson. Yes I know, unsportsmanlike thoughts. Whatever. If my religion believed in hell, trust me, I realize I'd already be there! Anyway, the father who was assaulted agreed with me and we went in there thinking may the best team win. Well, that was short-lived!

As it turns out, the coach of our boys' team had been ejected from the rest of the tournament and was not permitted to coach the last game. Prior to the game, he met with the father who had come down out of the stands and talked to him about what needed to be done. When our coach entered the gymnasium to sit in the stands with the rest of us, we gave him a standing ovation.

Thankfully, we had more fans on our side than on previous nights and we were loud, boisterous and well, a bit on the obnoxious side. After the second quarter, I abandoned the promise I'd made to myself and started the hooting and hollering when the opposing team was making their foul shots. Let me just add, that I was not the only one. There were people who were screaming louder than I and others who were actually stomping their feet quite loudly. To say that this game was intense, is putting it mildly! It was back and forth with our team ahead then their team ahead and then our team pulling ahead of them once again. At the final buzzer, it was tied and we were going into overtime.

Back and forth again and five minutes later, we pulled off the win and our kids were literally doing back flips on the court! And then...the shit started flying.

Two women, mothers of boys on the opposing team, came down out of the stands, stood right in front of me and gave me the hairy eyeball while they discussed loudly how obnoxious I was. Yep me, just me. But me being a team-player, took it for the team! With a smile on my face I gladly agreed with their observation before taking a generous sip of water from my bottle, I held it up as if to toast them and gave them a tooth-filled grin. Then, without missing a beat, I asked her if she'd like me to call her the WAAAAHHHMBULANCE and then told her to get over it, that it was a game and to grow up.

Well, I had done it again! Like the boys working it in overtime, my mouth was working it in overtime! This woman was giving me the stink eye like there was no tomorrow and I was walking around telling all the parents to take a look at how pathetic this woman is. Oh yeah, I was working it alright, having fun yet making a really terrible situation for myself even worse! When she approached a woman that I am acquainted with through my kids' school (she's the mother of one of my son's classmates) and this woman looked back at me as if to say "Yep, I know her and she is obnoxious.", that's when I got mad. Don't get me wrong, I didn't act out or do anything to this woman or my acquaintance but this acquaintance has pretended to be my friend before and let's just say that she has picked the wrong person to fuck with.

Anyway, the mother who didn't care for me was waiting around as if she was going to pounce on me if given the opportunity. I was too busy enjoying our kids' celebration on the court, with us parents taking numerous photos of them holding the trophy. Eventually, this woman gave up and disappeared.

You may think that I enjoy confrontations but I don't. I was actually very nervous that this woman was going to approach me outside of the building and I felt it necessary to have someone excort me to my car. The reason I was nervous is that even though I despise confrontations, when I am engaged in them I tend to let my temper get the better of me and who the hell knows what would have flown out of my mouth had she said something! I, for one, certainly didn't want there to be a fist fight in the middle of the parking lot! I'm there at such events for one reason alone, to cheer my team on. I don't set out to make enemies and I'm certainly not there to intentionally piss people off but I'm also never one to back down from someone's words. I wish I could warn these people ahead of time that engaging in a war of words with me is a losing battle but I'm not there to be friends with them, only to enjoy my children and their teammates.

Then, the person who shall not be mentioned here decided it was necessary to tell me that some of the people saying shit about me were his co-workers and how embarrassed he was of me. Ya' know what? GOOD! I'm glad he was embarrassed and I hope they gave him a hard time because frankly, I couldn't give a flying Fig Newton what these people thought of me! I'm not the one who has to work side-by-side with them day after day and have to hide because I'm a big fucking pussy! I'm certain he had a lot of choice words for me to his co-workers...as he always did even when we were married in his usual snide, joking-but-non-humorous way. But that's not what got me angry. What got me angry is when my son came back from the celebratory dinner at a local pizza place and told me that his dad told him that everyone at the game thought I was obnoxious!

Was that necessary for him to tell my son that? That's like my asking people if the person who shall not be mentioned here should be permitted to survive in this world. It's a rhetorical question.

What's so amusing about all this, is that in the final seconds of the game, my son and his teammates motioned for all of us to stand up and go nuts so we gladly obliged. What's even funnier, is that with all the hooting and hollering we did to distract the kids on the opposing team, their fans did the same exact thing to our kids!!! But yet, I'm the obnoxious one. Again, I'll proudly where this badge of honor and take it for the team!

Here's what I have to say to that...I am a parent who loves watching her kids perform in whatever sport they choose. I will always be the supportive parent who cheers her child on no matter what others say or think about me. I have NEVER nor will I ever, demonstrate the ridiculous, negative behavior that these other parents demonstrated towards me. In fact, when there was just seconds left in the game and one of our kids was making a foul shot with the opposing team going apeshit trying to distract him, I turned around to a friend sitting behind me, laughed hysterically and said "Oops! I think I've created a monster!". When someone on the opposing team makes a good play, I have always acknowledged that with a nod of my head, a smile or applause. If our children had lost last night, I would have certainly been disappointed, but I would have never directed my anger and disappointed towards other people and blamed them for something so ridiculous as cheering my child onto victory.

Anyway, today our kids are champions and us parents couldn't be more proud. And without further ado, I'd like to introduce to y'all, the 2009 6th grade basketball champions...

And as a side note, our boys made school history as no other 6th grade boys basketball team has ever won a championship!

thanks for the memories

Yesterday was D Day.

Thursday night I contacted the vet who assured me Schwartz's injuries didn't sound life-threatening especially since he was still eating, doing his business and in mostly good spirits...ya' know, given the circumstances.

First thing yesterday morning, we took Schwartz to the vet. His injury was his ear, a puncture wound right through. Ear injuries in general are bleeders. Even with people. I know that for a fact 'cause one time at band camp...I mean, one time in my freshman year at college, when I was in a semi-drunken state, I was dancing around my dorm room to Steve Winwood and I fell and whacked my ear on the heating unit and man, did my ear lobe gush! But that's a story for another day. Or not. Getting back to Schwartz - that area of his ear was shaved, cleaned and he's now on antibiotics.

Immediately upon returning home, we took Jasper back to the Humane Society. Trust me, I was still back-and-forth about whether or not I should actually do it. There was a small part of me that was thinking about giving him one more chance but I had given him that one more chance so many times, it was time that I faced up to the fact that we were not a perfect fit for his needs. He needs to be with someone who doesn't have any other pets. He would certainly thrive in an atmosphere where he is someone's soul attention.

I'm sorta' torn about how I feel about having to return him. On one hand, we're all enjoying the calm again with out that nervous boy running around here stirring up all sorts of trouble! I found it rewarding that I was able to teach him certain commands, how to walk on a leash and in just a month's time, he became more fit and healthier. Those are some accomplishments to be proud of, I think.

At the same time, I'm disappointed that Schwartz no longer has a playmate who, when he was behaving himself, was giving Schwartz great amounts of joy. I was also disappointed about not being able to break him of his few bad habits such as his jumping and his jealousy. I realize those things take time and had he not exhibited such aggressive and vicious behavior so often towards Schwartz, I probably would have been successful with both of those behavioral adjustments. But unfortunately, I just can't make miracles happen. Other than that whole walking on water thing. *wink*

And the thought of him being in that cold, dismal kennel again really tugs at my heart strings. *sigh*

The good news is is that because our circumstances were different than most peoples', we are still permitted to adopt through the Humane Society should we ever choose to again. Most of the time that people surrender their pets, it's for some lame reason...like when Jasper was brought in because the couple had just had a baby and they didn't want to be responsible for him anymore.

The bad news is, the kids heard this and immediately ran into the area that held the dogs to look at puppies! I'm not sure WTF they were thinking because I knew if I didn't keep my head on straight, I was bound to lose focus and we were gonna' be walking outta' there with another dog! I won't deny that I wasn't tempted. A lot of the dogs were puppies and adorable ones at that. There were quite a number of older puppies that, of course, the kids fell in love with and wanted to adopt! No matter how much they wanted one, the most I could do was promise them that in a few months we could start talking about it.

I think the most difficult part about saying 'no' to them was trying to make them understand that what was written on the kennel about a particular dog was not necessarily the truth and given that we adopted two dogs without being given all the details, I decided the only way we're going to be able to adopt a dog that fits like a glove into our family, is one that has no prior understanding of rules, commands, etc.. In other words, a puppy. Despite the fact that taking on that kind of responsibility is really not an interest of mine, that is truly the only way that we can train a dog not to be aggressive towards other animals, not to chase the cats, hurt Schwartz or make sure that they can fit well into a social setting. With regards to the latter, I really didn't think I would be able to take Jasper to daycare or to Camp Green Dog without hearing about him being overly aggressive towards another animal or even hurting one. Considering he was raised with no rules and no limitations, a month's training was certainly not enough time to teach him social graces.

Whatever the case, even though Jasper was not a perfect pet for us doesn't mean he won't be the perfect pet for someone else. And even though he was more aggravation than worth mentioning, doesn't mean we didn't enjoy his company at times. Luckily, I was able to fill out a detailed two-page information sheet on all his needs (which I wish I'd had before adopting him) about how loving and affectionate he was and what a great cuddler he was! I hope he can soon cuddle his way into someone else's home and heart.

it's a sad day in the Koolio household

Right now I'm mad. Mad because I should be thrilled to pieces over my son and the rest of his 6th grade basketball team became the league champions this evening but it's what happened afterwards that has my insides doing flip flops.

You see this evening, Jasper attacked Schwartz for the last time. This time, he drew blood. Right now, Schwartz is contemplating a chew toy, while his stomach and ear drip blood. And I'm so mad right now...well, I don't think there are words to accurately describe how I feel right now.

I'm beyond furious at Jasper because this has happened every single fucking day since we adopted him. Clearly, this dog is not good with other dogs and/or cats as we were told. I'm mad at myself for allowing it to continue and everyday thinking it would get better. Obviously, it has only gotten only worse. And despite the tremendous agony and guilt I feel over this decision, I know it's for the best. I will tell you more about this situation sometime in the next day or so when I've had time to calm down.

My kids understand that this is no longer two dogs having a spat and they know that Schwartz's safety is now involved. So tomorrow, Jasper is going back to the shelter, Schwartz is going to the vet where he will probably need stitches for something and antibiotics to help him heal and I will hopefully be in a better mood to tell you all about my son's basketball championship and why big mouths and basketball moms don't go hand-in-hand.

Until then...

holy colder than a witch's tit, Batman!

I do not know how you people who live in colder climates do it day-after-day. I would cry if I had to deal with this bullshit cold every freaking day for, what is it, five months!! Shit, I hear Frosty the Snowman is even throwing a tizzy over it!

It's been so cold here...well, it's just been too fucking cold here! I can't get warm no matter how hard I try. Last week, I had to dig my wool jacket with faux fur hood out of the dark depths of my coat closet in which I found my favorite pair of leather gloves with warm Cashmere lining after having given up on finding them ever again for the past four years. I was ecstatic for all of two seconds before remembering that I actually had to wear them or else my fingers would chip off and break away from the freaking artic blast outside. Along with sweats on top of sweats, I still felt like I was as frozen solid as an ice sculpture. I couldn't believe how cold my fingers were despite having those damn gloves on! Upon walking Jasper this morning, my breath kept steaming up my damn glasses and I know he must have peed icicles! And even though I have the heat turned up inside my house to 27 million degrees Fahrenheit (the temperature of the core of the sun and yes, I had to look that up) right now, I'm still wearing my wool jacket because the cold has penetrated my core ten times over! If it wasn't for the sight of those beautiful palm trees here everyday, I would have already given up on life as I know it!

Alright, that's a stretch, but I am really not happy with this weather!

OMG! How do those people in Alaska do it with half the year being in the dark from morning 'til night?! I'd have to be constantly doped up on fucking hallucinogens just to get me through it!

And those poor eskimos. Those poor, stupid little eskimos. If I were there right now, I would bitch-slap each and every one of them for choosing to live in such a frigid climate.

The warmest spot in my house is my pantry. I'm honestly thinking about putting a sleeping bag in there and calling it my bedroom until this cold spell leaves.

*heavy sigh*

I am contemplating searching online for a fur comforter for my bed. Anyone wanna' pitch in towards the "Save Her Booty from the Cold" fund?!

Did I mention that it's headed up into the 70s this weekend?! Heh.

support your local geeks

This is a warning to all you Best Buy shoppers - Best Buy is great when it comes to reasonably-priced household appliances and techy gadgets and gizmos, but do NOT, under ANY circumstances, take your computers to The Geek Squad.

Take it from this dissatisfied customer, it's not worth the temper tantrum you will throw.

I thought I had written back in January about my son's computer problems, but either I'm blind, which is always a possibility, and can't find the post or I didn't actually write about it. In any case, my son's computer browser stopped working and he couldn't access the Internet which meant that he couldn't play his Internet games or AIM his friends. Gasp! The horror! Anyway, I took it to Best Buy to have it evaluated by The Geek Squad. The way I figured it was the computer was still considered new since I had just purchased it in September, and it was under warranty so if it needed fixing, they could fix it and it wouldn't cost me that much in the process.

The latter is a misconception. The Geek Squad is not part of Best Buy, they only rent space from them so Best Buy endorses them. The Geek Squad was not willing to offer me any great deals just because I had purchased the computer from the same store they were in. Fuckers.

But that's not really the beef I have with them.

Two weeks ago today I dropped the computer off for a full diagnostic. The first expected completion date read January 31st - one week since dropping off the computer. On a separate piece of paper, the expected completion date read February 2nd. Either/or, it was past both expected completion dates and I was determined to find out once and for all WTF was going on with the computer!

Deep inside, however, my psychic abilities had already kicked it into high gear and I knew before I even entered the store yesterday that they hadn't even touched my computer. Sure enough, I was right.

The geek punched in my information, returned from the back room where they store the computers needing work with an "Uh oh, this 'puter ain't done!" expression on his face and broke the bad news to me. I gestured to him to give me my computer, I was taking it with me. At the same time, I told him I wanted to speak to a store manager. Not quite sure why it took him five more minutes to plug in information into their computers, get me the computer and then get me a manager, but it did.

Why did I want the store manager? Well, aside from the fact that they hadn't fixed my computer in the alloted timeframe, I had tried calling the store five separate times on Monday afternoon to find out the status on my computer, each time waiting several minutes for someone to answer and no one ever answered the fucking phone. Not at the Geek Squad desk nor any sales associate within the entire store. I tried calling once a day thereafter and even then, no one ever answered the fucking phone.

I'm talking Best Buy here, people! I'm not talking some little mom-and-pop set-up where one person at a time occupies the store and may need to leave on his lunch break, I'm talking a big fucking store with at least 50 employees working the store at a time. Not one of them was able to answer the phone?!

He got my computer and went over to a fellow geek who came over to see me. "What seems to be the problem?" he asked.

Aside from global warming and there not being world peace, I told him that it was a problem that I asked for a store manager and that given the 'Geek Squad' printed on his shirt, clearly he was not a store manager. But I told him what the problem was anyway and he asked me "Well, didn't the person who helped you tell you that it was a 3-4 week turnaround time?". NOTE: everything in italics except for the cursing, were my exact words...

No [dipshit]. I was told a 1-2 week turnaround time and if the guy assisting me had told me it would have been a 3-4 week turnaround time, then I most certainly would have not left my computer here.

"Even so," he said, "It clearly states on the contract you signed that we're entitled to change the turnaround time at our descretion."

And clearly, [asshole], if you tell someone that you will have it done for them within a certain timeframe, then you either have it done for them or you learn how to pick up that little device otherwise known as a 'telephone' and give what's called a 'courtesy call' so that the person isn't wondering where their computer is. But given that I tried calling you guys several times this week alone and there's not a phone anywhere on your counter here, I can understand why you wouldn't even think of calling me to inform me about my computer or would have heard your phone ringing because you don't have a [fucking] phone! Now get me a store manager!

Having waited another five minutes, I saw out of the corner of my eye a store manager approach the counter.

"Yeah?". (No seriously, that's how the store manager greeted me.)

I gave her the evil death glare. I tried to get deathly, skin-piercing laser beams to shoot from my eyeballs but my Super Duper Skin-piercing Eye Laser Beams must have been on the fritz.

"Yeah"? That's how you greet your customers?

Staring. "What can I help you with, ma'am?".

Oh there's the proper customer service you must have briefly lost along with your brain cells! (yes, I did say that, too.)

I then explained again what happened but emphasized the phone calling and how no one in her store answered.

"Oh...sorry."

That's all you have to say?!

"Hmmm...well, we're very busy."

Honestly folks, I thought I was being punked and that someone from the new and improved Candid Camera show was going to jump out and surprise me that all this professionalism I was being treated with was just a really bad joke being played on me.

We're all busy, you moron! I yelled at her, grabbed my receipt, got her name and the Geek Squad manager's name so I can report them later to Best Buy's corporate headquarters, called them "incompetent idiots" (redundant, I know), not only at full volume but also made sure to enunciate so that everyone within a 100 foot radius could hear me clearly.

Upon walking away, I heard her wishing me a great day in the most sarcastic voice I've ever heard. She is who they hired to manage the store. Brilliant. I guess she thinks that after I'm done reporting her to the company that she'll still have a job by the end of the week.

But the story's not done.

I whisked my computer away to a small mom-and-pop computer shop that I had taken my computer to once before. At 4pm yesterday afternoon, Tweaks by Geeks had fixed my son's computer.

WHAT!!

a timely fashion

Hypothetical situation (or not)...

You have a friend who you've been trying to contact for several days to no avail. You say to yourself "Okay, I'll try to contact her one more time before she can kiss my ass and then I'm gonna' blog nasty things about her!" and that very night, you hear through a mutual friend that this friend's mother has just passed away, the friend wanted me to know and you are told that the friend would call you the following week.

The very next day, you run right out, pick up a sympathy card, write some very sweet and personal sentiments in it and mail it. You want to talk to your friend to see how she's doing but you decide it's best to respect her wishes and wait for her to call you. So you wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Considering that her parents live in a lovely cottage on her property, you assume she's spending a lot more time with her dad these days so you cut her a break. You understand that you have never been in her position so you don't know how you would react to other's graciousness, although you were brought up right and would have probably thanked everyone as soon as they extended their sympathies and/or offered to assist in any way.

The question for all of you is, how long are you supposed to wait until you start considering your friend a rude bitch and write the friendship off?! Do you give her the benefit of the doubt and realize that everyone is different and she will get to you in due time? And what do you consider 'due time' - a week, two weeks, a month? Or do you consider her silence as a hint that she doesn't consider you a good enough friend to even bother and she'll get to you when the spirit moves her to do so?! Or do you say to yourself "Fuck that whole respect shit!" and pick up the phone to call her?!

Death is hard, I understand that but WTF?!?

back and forth

The past few days have been a little better where Jasper's concerned.

He's still exhibiting some aggressive behavior with Schwartz (three attacks yesterday) but he's generally sweet and when they play nicely, boy, do they really enjoy each other!

He's become easier to keep on a bathroom schedule. In the past three days, he's been peeing in the pinestraw or at least near the pinestraw. He knows that he gets one decent walk in the morning and one in the evening and he knows as soon as he's done "unloading", that it's time to go home. I want to get him really situated with that habit before I start taking him on longer walks as treats.

And that won't happen until he stops. pooping. in. the. house.

That is still a bit frustrating although I dealt with the same shit, no pun intended, with Schwartz when we first got him too. He'd do really well with house training, poop in the house and then it would feel like it was two steps back.

Let's just put it this way...Jasper and I are definitely learning from each other.

Take last night for instance...despite the fact that Jasper hadn't finished his food, I didn't take the bowl away. Most of the time, if the dogs haven't finished their food by a certain time, I take it away so that they won't have the need to be taken out in the middle of the night. Last night I flubbed. I saw that he hadn't finished, the kids and I got preoccupied cuddling by a nice toasty fire and the next time I looked, the food was gone from his bowl. I knew that meant he would need an extra walk, which I obliged, and of course, a bit frustrated by the end of the walk that he had not done his bu'ness. That meant one thing...I knew I would find a little gift waiting for me this morning.

Turns out that little gift wasn't so little! It was once again in that same exact spot on my wood floor. He turned away as I cleaned it up. I'm not sure if that's out of guilt or if he's laughing at me! Probably a little of both. Clearly, he knows it's wrong or he'd be right there by my side, tail wagging. I suppose I should be thankful that he's leaving it in plain sight unlike Schwartz who occasionally poops on the upstairs landing and we can only sense it by its distinct scent. ICK.

Since I can see that Jasper's making progress, today I will keep him. Tomorrow could be another story. *wink*

On another note...GO STEELERS!!!