I've decided that I am officially one of the worst bloggers I know. I do, however, have a couple theories as to why I just cannot get the hang of this blogging thing. I think one of the main reasons is that I am a journal kind of gal. You know, that thing you do with an actual pen and paper.
Writing in a journal is so much different from typing on a computer. There is just something about the ink on the pad that is much more real, open, and honest. Perhaps it is the fact that on the computer it is much too easy to erase entire sentences, paragraphs, and even pages. With a couple clicks of a button, entire thoughts and feelings can be gone in an instant. Another thing about journal writing is that there are no readers. I simply write for me and only me. Sometimes I will share an excerpt here or there with certain people, but for the most part, there is no audience to qualify, no politically correctness, no ones feelings to consider, no boundaries, no bars, just freedom.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
Ugly babies
Let's talk for a minute about ugly ass babies. I am at the age where a lot of my friends are having kids. I have probably been to about 11 baby showers in the past year. The new parents send out birth announcements with their little ones picture. The sad reality is that newborn babies are just not cute. Most of them resemble shriveled up shrunken old men. Don't get me wrong, I love babies just as much as the next girl, but it blows my mind just how ugg to the mug these little bundles of joy can be.
The worst part is that a lot of the babies just get uglier and uglier, but their parents continue to take more and more pictures. I don't even like to look at the pics anymore b/c I just feel so bad. I feel like the biggest fake standing there saying "Awwww, what a cutie" when I'm really thinking "your baby has a serious case of the uglies". And it seems that the parents are just oblivious to the fact that their kid is just not cute. How does that happen? Love obviously blinds you.
No doubt I am probably destined to have an ugly ass baby. As much shit as I talk about other peoples kids, Karma will h ave fun with me. But when I do, I will keep his pictures to myself and not force other people to marvel at his "cuteness".
The worst part is that a lot of the babies just get uglier and uglier, but their parents continue to take more and more pictures. I don't even like to look at the pics anymore b/c I just feel so bad. I feel like the biggest fake standing there saying "Awwww, what a cutie" when I'm really thinking "your baby has a serious case of the uglies". And it seems that the parents are just oblivious to the fact that their kid is just not cute. How does that happen? Love obviously blinds you.
No doubt I am probably destined to have an ugly ass baby. As much shit as I talk about other peoples kids, Karma will h ave fun with me. But when I do, I will keep his pictures to myself and not force other people to marvel at his "cuteness".
Thursday, October 30, 2008
how to waste 4 hours on a Wednesday night
When we moved to our new house we had to get a new cable company. We attempted to hijack the modem we received from our old cable company and use it for our new service. It worked for about a month, before we received a notice from the former cable company that they did indeed need their modem back. So we had to get a new one. Old cable company provided one free of charge. New cable company tacks on $6 per month to use one of theirs. So we just decided to buy our own.
Modems are possibly one of the easiest computer thingys to hook up. The directions are crystal clear and unless you are one of those "special" people who walk around with cheetos in their nose, there is no way you can screw it up. After successfully installing the modem, we tested the connection and to our suprise, it failed to connect. We double checked the power supply, and the usb cable and both were securely in place. We tried again. No connection.
So I rummaged through the junk drawer in the kitchen to find our cable company's handy dandy high speed internet welcome kit. They had a section in there for troubleshooting. I turned to the section, skimmed all the solutions, and then focused in on the customer service number listed in tiny elf size print at the bottom of the page.
I dial the number. A lovely female automated voice picks up. "Thank you for calling Comcast. Your call is important to us. For English press 1. For spanish puso numero dos". I accidently press 2. When the new male spanish speaking automated voice starts talking, I quickly hang up and redial.
After navigating through all the automated prompts, I finally make it to the hold music. And I love how hold music now days has commercials. You get like 2 minutes worth of a song and then a commercial about something related to the company. In this case, about additional channels offered through a higher tiered service line. 20 minutes later a real person actually answers my call. "Thank you for calling Comcast, how can I assist you today?" I explain that we got a new modem and now our connection doesn't seem to be working. "Did you go through all the troubleshooting tools in the manual?"
"Yes" I lie.
Apparently she must get that all the time b/c she promptly begins with the very first troubleshooting point listed in the manual. We exhaust all of the idiotic troubleshooting solutions in the manual (turn your computer off and wait 30 seconds....check to make sure the power cord of the modem is plugged in completely.....ensure the usb cable is firmly attached....etc, dumb, etc, more dumb). I feel slightly better about my little lie b/c obviously that shit didn't work anyway and now she doesn't know that I lied.
Now we begin to get a bit more in depth. She asks for the mac address of the modem, the make and model number, blah, blah, blah. She says that the new modem is not registered to my account (Well, no shit sherlock. I told you the fucking thing was NEW) She then says that all she has to do is put it in the system and it should fire right up. Why the fuck we didn't do that in the first place is beyond me. Apparently she just wanted to sit at her desk and surf the internet while I plugged and unplugged every single electronic within 10 feet of my computer.
She says everything should be fine now and to reboot my computer. I believe her and hang up. I reboot the computer. Double click on the blue 'e' to open my internet explorer browser. Nothing happens. I click on my connections tab and once again is the big yellow triangle with the exclamation point in the middle which means something is wrong. Personally, I think they should have just made it a hand giving you the finger. Because at this point, I really just feel like my computer is saying "FUCK YOU".
So I hit redial......"Thank you for calling Comcast. Your call is important to us........"
.....15 minutes on hold
I get a different girl this time. I explain to her the situation. Apparently this girl was deaf b/c as soon as I stop talking she says "Did you go through all the troubleshooting tools in the manual?" This time when I say Yes, it's not a lie. But she doesn't believe me either and starts right back up at troubleshooting solution #1 - Turn off your computer and wait 30 seconds.
I try to explain to her that I already did this before with another call center employee, but she simply responds back in that sure-ya-did voice and says "well, let's just try it again". So as she prompted me to unplug this and unplug that, I just sat there, not doing a god damn thing. Finally, we get to the part of her asking for the modem id number, make, model and all that jazz. She continues "Well, that's the one I have listed here. I thought you said you got a new one?" I then tell her for the 3rd time that I had already given all of that information to another Comcast employee on a phone call 40 minutes ago.
"Well, you should have told me that. Now we have to try something else."
It's a good thing that at this point my cell phone dropped the call. Had it not, she would most definitely have received an ear full of explicit language.
Redialing........
"Thank you for calling Comcast......"
12 minutes on hold
I get a man this time. I explain all that has happened. He responds "Did you go through all the troubleshooting tools in the manaul?"
SHOOT ME NOW.
Modems are possibly one of the easiest computer thingys to hook up. The directions are crystal clear and unless you are one of those "special" people who walk around with cheetos in their nose, there is no way you can screw it up. After successfully installing the modem, we tested the connection and to our suprise, it failed to connect. We double checked the power supply, and the usb cable and both were securely in place. We tried again. No connection.
So I rummaged through the junk drawer in the kitchen to find our cable company's handy dandy high speed internet welcome kit. They had a section in there for troubleshooting. I turned to the section, skimmed all the solutions, and then focused in on the customer service number listed in tiny elf size print at the bottom of the page.
I dial the number. A lovely female automated voice picks up. "Thank you for calling Comcast. Your call is important to us. For English press 1. For spanish puso numero dos". I accidently press 2. When the new male spanish speaking automated voice starts talking, I quickly hang up and redial.
After navigating through all the automated prompts, I finally make it to the hold music. And I love how hold music now days has commercials. You get like 2 minutes worth of a song and then a commercial about something related to the company. In this case, about additional channels offered through a higher tiered service line. 20 minutes later a real person actually answers my call. "Thank you for calling Comcast, how can I assist you today?" I explain that we got a new modem and now our connection doesn't seem to be working. "Did you go through all the troubleshooting tools in the manual?"
"Yes" I lie.
Apparently she must get that all the time b/c she promptly begins with the very first troubleshooting point listed in the manual. We exhaust all of the idiotic troubleshooting solutions in the manual (turn your computer off and wait 30 seconds....check to make sure the power cord of the modem is plugged in completely.....ensure the usb cable is firmly attached....etc, dumb, etc, more dumb). I feel slightly better about my little lie b/c obviously that shit didn't work anyway and now she doesn't know that I lied.
Now we begin to get a bit more in depth. She asks for the mac address of the modem, the make and model number, blah, blah, blah. She says that the new modem is not registered to my account (Well, no shit sherlock. I told you the fucking thing was NEW) She then says that all she has to do is put it in the system and it should fire right up. Why the fuck we didn't do that in the first place is beyond me. Apparently she just wanted to sit at her desk and surf the internet while I plugged and unplugged every single electronic within 10 feet of my computer.
She says everything should be fine now and to reboot my computer. I believe her and hang up. I reboot the computer. Double click on the blue 'e' to open my internet explorer browser. Nothing happens. I click on my connections tab and once again is the big yellow triangle with the exclamation point in the middle which means something is wrong. Personally, I think they should have just made it a hand giving you the finger. Because at this point, I really just feel like my computer is saying "FUCK YOU".
So I hit redial......"Thank you for calling Comcast. Your call is important to us........"
.....15 minutes on hold
I get a different girl this time. I explain to her the situation. Apparently this girl was deaf b/c as soon as I stop talking she says "Did you go through all the troubleshooting tools in the manual?" This time when I say Yes, it's not a lie. But she doesn't believe me either and starts right back up at troubleshooting solution #1 - Turn off your computer and wait 30 seconds.
I try to explain to her that I already did this before with another call center employee, but she simply responds back in that sure-ya-did voice and says "well, let's just try it again". So as she prompted me to unplug this and unplug that, I just sat there, not doing a god damn thing. Finally, we get to the part of her asking for the modem id number, make, model and all that jazz. She continues "Well, that's the one I have listed here. I thought you said you got a new one?" I then tell her for the 3rd time that I had already given all of that information to another Comcast employee on a phone call 40 minutes ago.
"Well, you should have told me that. Now we have to try something else."
It's a good thing that at this point my cell phone dropped the call. Had it not, she would most definitely have received an ear full of explicit language.
Redialing........
"Thank you for calling Comcast......"
12 minutes on hold
I get a man this time. I explain all that has happened. He responds "Did you go through all the troubleshooting tools in the manaul?"
SHOOT ME NOW.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
TAG
5 Joys
1. Shopping
2. Helping Others
3. My Job
4. Eating
5. KU Football and Basketball
5 Fears
1. Snakes
2. Failure
3. Being Broke
4. Cervical Cancer
5. Losing my parents
5 Obsessions
1. The Internet
2. Planning
3. KU
4. Dr. Phil
5. HGTV
1. Shopping
2. Helping Others
3. My Job
4. Eating
5. KU Football and Basketball
5 Fears
1. Snakes
2. Failure
3. Being Broke
4. Cervical Cancer
5. Losing my parents
5 Obsessions
1. The Internet
2. Planning
3. KU
4. Dr. Phil
5. HGTV
Monday, October 20, 2008
One Liners from the Hubster
My husband is the King of one liners. Usually he steals them from movies or television shows and attempts to pass them off as his own. The best ones, however, are the ones he makes up himself. They are usually super retarded or extra cheesy. The one that I'm sharing today was absolutely poetic and made my heart melt.
Last week I had the unfortunate experience of attending a funeral of the husband of one of my friends. As you can imagine, it was a very emotional day. When I returned home, my husband immediately turned off the television and just held me close. Between sobs I said to him "I would be lost without you". He returned with "Well, I wouldn't be lost without you." And I braced myself for the rhetorical jab that so often finds its way into our conversations, thinking that he picked a piss poor time for satire and whit. With my head against his heart and his hand soothingly stroking my hair he said "I wouldn't be lost without you, because without you, there would be nowhere left to go".
Last week I had the unfortunate experience of attending a funeral of the husband of one of my friends. As you can imagine, it was a very emotional day. When I returned home, my husband immediately turned off the television and just held me close. Between sobs I said to him "I would be lost without you". He returned with "Well, I wouldn't be lost without you." And I braced myself for the rhetorical jab that so often finds its way into our conversations, thinking that he picked a piss poor time for satire and whit. With my head against his heart and his hand soothingly stroking my hair he said "I wouldn't be lost without you, because without you, there would be nowhere left to go".
Friday, October 3, 2008
Wedding Dress Shopping
Today I went wedding dress shopping with a friend. She brought me along because 1. I am a bridesmaid, and 2. I will give her the most honest opinion possible without regards to her feelings (Yep, I'm just a bitch like that). Well, as much as my friend appreciated my honest opinions, the other brides we encountered - eh, not so much.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Cups with Straws
Today I spilled a half a cup of soda in my lap. This happens quite often because I overfill my cup and then attempt to "drink" the spillage that has formed on the lid. Although I am 28 years old and should fully understand the physics of cups with straws, I always tip the cup to the mouth to collect said spillage between my thirsty lips. This in turn leads for the beverage to either leak out of the lid, or for even more beverage to escape from the straw hole, and before you know it, half of my drink is seeping into my crotch.
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