Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

Now that I’m SLOWLY (imagine molasses pouring onto ice, that’s about the pace we’re talking) weaning my foot out of the effing boot, I’ve gotten to do some of the fun things that I’ve been missing out on. Like, you know, video games.

Okay, so technically I’ve played all the games I’ve wanted aside from one, Wii Fit.

I got it last year for my birthday and was really good at getting on it and setting reasonable health goals, for like the first month. And then we went to California to get married. And then we honeymooned (and got robbed). And then I got a job and then quit the job and started my old one. And, to stop my second year in review post short, the Wii fell by the wayside.

So this week one of my housemate’s boyfriend ex-boyfriend “it’s complicated” was in town and wanted to see how the Wii Fit worked. So I offered to show him.

When you step on the Wii Fit, it’ll do a “Body Test” which is to say, it will weigh you and then show you how fat *ahem* out of shape you are.

Of course, having not been on it since before wedding, I have gained some weight, where some means like 10 pounds. And since I was getting on it in front of other people, when it came time to choose the weight of my clothing, I picked the highest weight (4 pounds) so that it wouldn’t be as embarrassing. If they’d let me choose 15, I would’ve, but the Wii Fit is too smart for that.

So I weighed myself in front of several people, and took the beating when Wii Fit pointed out that I didn’t achieve my goal of maintaining my pre-wedding weight for 6 months. (Not embarrassing, by the way…). I only did a few things and then handed it over and let others play.

I got on it again the next morning to play it more seriously. This time, I chose 2 pounds for my clothes, and shock of shocks, I gained half a pound from the night before. And the Wii Fit was disappointed in me. Like when I was a kid and my parents didn’t want to yell or berate, so they just gave me the quiet disappointment talk. That’s what the wii fit did.

And then it took it one step too far.

The Wii gave me a choice of like 10 different reasons of why I gained weight and it would not let me move onto the rest of the “body test” or any games until I told them why I thought I had gained a half a pound. Oddly, “Because I cheated last night” was not one of the choices. I don’t remember what I picked, but I got another short lecture on healthy eating before my body test (eff you Wii Fit).

This body test was two balance games, one I rocked, and one I apparently did not, because this is what showed up on the screen…

And then I threw the Wii Fit board out the window. I figure that effort was worth at least one minute of exercise.

So when my wallet was first stolen by my friend Alexis, (and by the way, Anonymous, I pink puffy heart you for finding that information), I called the Bakersfield Police Department and was told that since the crime was non-violent and not worth much monetarily (it’s just my identity, you know), I would have the file the report online.

So I go to the website to set up the claim. First you list all your pertinent information and then you choose what has been stolen from you. You are given a drop down alphabetized list of the items you can list as stolen. The very first thing that appears on the list is “AIRCRAFT”

I so wanted to claim it.

I can just see the scenario unfolding before my eyes. Some pilot comes out and finds his airplane missing, nay, STOLEN. So he runs as fast as he can, past the 10 trillion police that work at an airport to his COMPUTER to file an online crime report. How is that NOT the smartest idea of all time?

And, also? I’m not allowed to do my identity theft report over the phone, because apparently they cannot validate my identity that way. So instead they’re having me do it over email.

Naturally.

Dear Jerkface (who lives at: address removed so my blog wasn’t the first thing that came up on google when entered…),

Now, I understand that God was pretty vague in the 10 Commandments when he said, “thou shalt not steal” and I’m pretty sure that the state of California was pretty iffy when they said that “every person who shall feloniously steal, take, carry, lead, or drive away the personal property of another…is guilty of theft.” But listen here so I can interpret: taking my shit was wrong, taking my identity is hopefully going to take you straight to jail and then later to hell.

Since December 26th when you STOLE my wallet, you’ve used my credit card seven times. Now, fortunately for you, my credit card company didn’t actually get the card cancelled until sometime after 10:30 that night, so two of those seven times, you succeeded. You lucky bastard.

On January 1st, you tried to take out a Walmart credit card in my name. Really? Walmart? You’ve got my social security number and driver’s license, why not go for something classy?

But you were declined.

Ironically, not because I had yet gotten a stop on my social security number, but, because I am over-extended, economically speaking. This will be the one and only time I am thrilled to be in debt over my head. However, it doesn’t change the fact that you tried to take out a credit card in my name. This is NOT acceptable.

And then on January 5th, as I was finally getting the stop on my social security number, you decided to get yourself some AT&T phone/internet service. It was apparently a business account for an office in town. You successfully got that account established just under the wire, yet again.

But then, last night, in your overconfidence, you decided to get a home phone/internet package installed. And this time, I got a call, WHILE YOU WERE STILL ON THE PHONE. Tom the fraud guy from AT&T called and asked if I was Kathryn (Last name) and if I was requesting service to be installed. Then he let me know that someone was on the other line trying to get service and that it would be declined. He even gave me your address. By the time he got back to your line you had, shockingly, hung up.

It’s almost like you knew you were doing something wrong.

But, small victory of small victories, your business account wasn’t due to be set up until January 14th, so guess what? Surprise! It’s not going to be set up. Suck on that. Oh, and Tom my man at AT&T? He gave me that address too.

And soon (in 3 to 5 business days, because identity theft is a HIGH priority) the police will have those addresses too. Yep. Soon the Bakersfield Police Department will know where your home and businesses are, they will have the ability to track you down and hopefully beat the ever living crap out of you arrest you.

If I believed in the idea of “an eye for an eye” I would wish that if someone else does this to you so you can realize how spectacularly stupid and used I feel. But instead, I believe in the concept of police actually doing their jobs (foolish though that belief might be) and I believe in karma.

I believe that someone, somewhere, is keeping track of every illegal, immoral, abusive move you make and that at some point in your life, it will come back to you. And I only hope that in that moment when all the bad karma comes rushing into your life that you realize what you’ve done to mine. What you’ve done to my credit history. What you’ve done to my faith in other human beings.

You robbed me of much more than my wallet, my left over Christmas bonus and my Christmas giftcards. You have stolen my identity, the very thing that makes me me, and you have robbed me of my belief that people can do the right thing.

And for that, I wish you a lifetime of consequences. Excruciatingly painful and life-altering ones.

Bitterly Yours,
Katie, but then, you already knew my name, didn’t you?

I just wanted to follow up on the ATM card portion of the last shrieky rant blog.

I called the bank as soon as they opened this morning, because I realized the card was there after they had closed for the night last night. The very nice woman told me she’d call and ask about my card (I left it at a drive through ATM which is a block from the main branch) and call me back.

As it turns out, I did leave my ATM card in the ATM. And the woman at the drive through location SHREDDED IT last night.

So less than 24 hours after it was left AND without calling me, as the nice voice on the phone informed me was the standard protocol, someone destroyed my SIX DAY OLD DEBIT CARD.

I was given the option to rush my new card, but it would cost me 15 dollars and I’d have to be at home on Tuesday to sign for it, so, that was a no. Which meant my card would arrive in 5 to 10 business days.

So I went into the bank a short while later and growled explained what stupid shit they had done and after the poor young banker apologized 800 times, I was given a temporary ATM card. And hey, guess what? They CAN expedite my card without charging me and they can even have it delivered to the branch so I can just come pick it up at my convenience.

Amazing, huh?

I just hope they don’t freaking shred it before I get there.

So I came downstairs tonight with the intention of a) getting out of the bed I’ve been lying in for a week b) blogging and c) playing mindless video games.

And the blog I had planned to write involved giving myself a big ole pat on the back for a great feat I was just about to accomplish:

Paying off the remaining balance on my car.

After 4 years of car payments, which I made, faithfully, on time, every month, even when unemployed, I was finally ready to own this car. The car was literally going to be mine.

And then, when I logged on to pay the car payment, I realized that I would have to update my debit card number since I had the card stolen/replaced. So I grabbed my wallet and then stared open mouthed at the obvious lack of my debit card in my almost completely empty wallet.

And after a moment of sheer panic, I realized that I had gone to the ATM this morning and withdrawn cash and that I LEFT MY BRAND NEW ATM CARD IN THE EFFING MACHINE. IN. THE. MACHINE. So my car is totally not paid off. And now I have to call the bank first thing tomorrow morning to see if I can get a new card. And I’m pretty sure the bank is going to be like, no, because obviously I’m not responsible enough to have a freaking debit card.

And what’s REALLY great, is that that was not even the irony I was getting ready to blog about.

Because just before I started writing this blog and just before I realized I left my card in the ATM, I checked the mail and found a letter from my mom’s insurance company which reads:

“For the accident of December 31, 2008, we have accessed your percentage of fault at 100% and the percentage of fault of any other driver or cause at 0%.”

Yes, I know I sort of asked for that, but seriously? Seeing it in writing? OUCH.

So, I’m pretty sure that leftover money from not having a car payment is not going to go towards my credit card debt after all. Instead, it’s going to go towards paying for SOMEONE ELSE’S CAR.

Oh the irony. Oh, the mother freaking irony.

(to the tune of Oh Christmas Tree)

Oh headache, oh headache
Why do you hurt so effing much?
I take 12 pills each freaking day
Whose job is to keep you away.
Oh Headache, oh headache,
Why do you hurt so effing much?

Oh headache, oh headache,
Why do you have to suck so much?
It seems like every time I fly
I spend three days hoping to die.
Oh headache, oh headache,
Why do you have to suck so much?

Oh headache, oh headache,
Why do you torture me so much?
Sleep and drugs haven’t helped one bit.
I’m starting to lose my shit.
Oh headache, oh headache
Why do you torture me so much?

There seems to be a great deal of confusion over something and I cannot hold my tongue any longer. I must educate the masses, or kill them, and this seems less messy.

Now, a quick disclaimer: I am not a doctor, nor do I pretend to be (okay, sometimes I do), however, I am well educated in this area, and trust me, I have some idea of what I’m talking about.

Now that that is out of the way…

There is a vaccine available to the masses that many people get each year, in fact, my own work provided it to employees: the “Flu” vaccine.

The Flu, which is an abbreviation for the full name, Influenza, is a miserable virus that makes its way through the country every year in the winter time (usually because people are spending more time indoors with others). It’s primary symptoms are: fever, headache, sore throat, cough, body aches and a general feeling that death is surely more comfortable than this disease (that last symptom is courtesy of my own personal experience, by the way).

What you don’t see on that list of flu symptoms is vomiting, diarrhea, or feeling like you’d rather rip your entire gastric tract out of your body than suffer another hour of misery (again, that last one is all me). Because that type of virus is NOT the flu. People sometimes call it the stomach flu, but it’s not the same thing that the vaccine protects. It’s not technically the “flu” at all.

What it is is usually rotovirus or norovirus, both of which are highly contagious. You can infect someone one day before you have any symptoms and for three full days after symptoms subside. It is disgusting, and it is spreading around my work like wildfire.

I cannot tell you how many times I hear people say, “oh, well, I’m sure glad I got the flu vaccine!” Or, “next year she’ll get vaccinated!” Or my favorite, “that vaccine doesn’t work at all. I was vaccinated and I still got it.”

Seriously. People, the flu and the stomach viruses (that I fear more than rats, snakes and tornadoes put together), are not the same thing.

As someone who a) cannot get the flu vaccine due to an allergy and b) would like to avoid a stomach virus like the plague, I beg that you please do not feel confident in your immunity and WASH YOUR HANDS. And stay home if you are sick. PLEASE. I am begging you.

I had to substitute for another teacher today who came to work sick yesterday and went home throwing up. She came to work again today and went home throwing up again. And then I had to touch her desk and her stuff and I wanted to saw my hand off on the spot. Instead, I came home and showered because two days worth of germs exist in that room and I don’t need a single one of them.

She was unable to complete a full day, but had the ability to infect some 40-odd students in the morning before she left. And now I will have to deal with the ramifications of this. Because these stomach viruses don’t stop until they’ve knocked down everyone in their path.

I DON’T WANT TO BE IN THEIR PATH.

So this concludes today’s lesson. Go out and share the good news.

Seriously. Spread the word, not the germs.

You’re welcome.

First, I want to thank everyone for the comments and emails about yesterday’s post. I can’t tell you how much it means to me. But we’re going to put aside my weight issues today and talk about someone else’s.

I have many things on my mind, many things I considered blogging about, but none were as big (snicker, you’ll get that pun in a second) as this: I have a new cousin.

Evan Robert was born at around 8 this morning and weighed in at 10 pounds 12 ounces.

And did I mention it was a c-section? And that they’re going to enroll him in preschool next week?

He has an older brother (7) and sister (5) who are waiting anxiously to see him. My aunt is doing fantastically.

We couldn’t be happier. And my God, he couldn’t be cuter, or chubbier or more squeezable. I spoke on the phone with my aunt and got to hear some of the baby squeaks and seriously, my uterus skipped a beat, because, dude, it’s the cutest sound in the world.

Without further ado, I present (a grainy cell phone picture of) Evan:

Welcome to the world kid. See, 2009 is already looking up.

On Tuesday while I was out with my family the mailman delivered a slip letting me know that my passport had arrived in town and I could pick it up the next morning. I had been anxiously awaiting it’s arrival since I have absolutely zero identification right now and was relieved to hear it had finally arrived. As Slappy and I were headed out of town Wednesday early-afternoon, we swung by the post office to pick it up.

Amazingly, the pick-up was easy. They didn’t ask for any identification (which, admittedly is a little scary, but since I didn’t have any until I picked up the passport, I am grateful for this lapse in security) and we didn’t have to wait in any lines at all. It was easy.

Way too easy.

We hopped back in the car and started to back out. And suddenly, we collided with something.

I had been looking out the rear view mirror the entire time and even at the moment of impact (and for the 5 seconds I didn’t move the car afterwards), I still couldn’t see anything behind me. I had no idea what I had hit, and it wasn’t until I got out of my car I discovered that it was, in fact, a Ford Mustang. (Of course it was).

And while my (mom’s) car had virtually no damage (that was distinguishable from the damage she had created by running into my car TWICE), the other car, of course, did. No, it was not serious damage, no it is not totaled, but there is a patch about eight inches long and 4 inches wide of scratches and denting, just above the wheel well of her back driver’s side tire.

I gave the other driver what little information I had (considering I have no driver’s license, no proof of insurance, etc.), and got hers. I promptly called my insurance to report it like a good citizen and they promptly informed me that though I am insured with them and they appreciated the heads-up, that the insurance follows the car, not the driver. Which makes a great deal of sense. You know, in case my car ever decides to go joy-riding without me. That way it’s insured and everything.

Seriously, stupidest rule ever.

So I contacted my mom’s insurance and gave them the information. And while I explained that it was my fault, they would not accept my admission of guilt fault. They said that it was their job to assess fault and they would let me know their decision after they had someone review all the information.

And then we waited.

I got a call today from my mom letting me know that her insurance called and indicated that they found the other driver and I equally at fault in the accident. And since we’re not claiming damages on our car, we’d just be responsible for half of her repairs.

From the moment I heard the decision I was sick about it. I know it’s ridiculous, I know that since I have no money I shouldn’t be wanting to pay more, but I hit her car. I didn’t see her, I didn’t stop driving until I hit her, it was my fault. No, I don’t have a witness to verify. No, I didn’t see her and slam on the gas to hit her, but my car was moving and hers was not. It was my fault.

And thankfully, I was given an opportunity to explain this. The insurance company called to get a little more information and I told the truth, because it was absolutely the right thing to do. I hate that I have to pay for the repairs to her car, but I hate myself infinitely less for not trying to escape the punishment I deserve for my negligence.

And now, having done the right thing, I’m going to try to erase this whole event from my memory. Especially the part about having to pay money. It’ll be like a backwards surprise. You know, the crappy kind that involve credit card debt and two more years of interest laden payments.

Doing the right thing is seriously such a bitch a pain in the ass the most non-2009 New Year’s resolution word ever.

So it’s January 1st, 2009. The time to make resolutions. To start anew, to improve upon the past 365 days.

Before I started writing this, I sat down and read last year’s resolutions and um, guess what? FAIL. After reading, I’m just in awe of how cute and naive I was to the year that sat ahead of me.

For example:

“In 2008 I resolve to try more things, to step outside my shell and accept that failure is an option but not the end of the world. In 2008 I will start a new job, one that is completely foreign to me. I have no idea if I’ll like it or if I’ll be good at it, but it’s something that I have to try or I’ll regret it the rest of my life. I will voluntarily leave the comfort zone of a job that I’m good at and embark on something different and new.”

Let’s review how that worked out. So I had a new job for a day, and then quit and went back to doing exactly what I had done before. Yea, firmly entrenched in my comfort zone, thankyouverymuch.

“In 2008 I resolve to procrastinate less, though I’m not starting that one until tomorrow.”

That’s a work in progress an epic fail. For the love of God, just don’t mention the gravy boat that I was supposed to pick up a month ago. Or the fact that I tried to drag my husband shoe shopping at 8:55pm because I don’t have any shoe(s) to wear with my suit for my interview tomorrow. As it turns out, procrastination is also prone to bugging the shit out of your spouse.

“In 2008 I resolve to be more tolerant. Not necessarily of rude and crass crazy people who swerve in front of my car or of the people who let their kids walk around in nothing but a diaper in a nasty store in December, but I resolve to let the small things go. To stop nagging, to stop being so picky, to stop being so unnecessarily grumpy about stupid things. I resolve to try and let the people in my life be who they are and act how they want to.”

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Hahaha. Ha. I’m sorry. That was hilarious. If there was something beyond an epic fail, that is what I would label that. Super-Gigantic-Horrifically-Epic Fail.

“In 2008 I resolve to be me again. I think through the course of the chronic headache pain, full time jobs and part time grad school I lost bits of myself. I want to be the happy person that I know I am. I want to smile more, laugh more and just enjoy the things I used to enjoy.”

So, I worked on this. And then had a headache for 10 weeks and took a medication that made me batshit CRAZY. But I think this one we can file in the “nearly successful” file. I said nearly.

Now for 2009. I think part of the reason I failed so miserably in following my resolutions in 2008 is because I bit off more than I could chew. I tried these broad overarching themes that practically required a life coach, who I would’ve fired because, um, I don’t like to try new things. So I’m going to be REALLY specific in 2009. Small steps.

In 2009, I will lose the 10 pounds that I have taken up residency on my ass since mid-October. I will do this in a healthy, non-eating disorder fashion. I will not let my weight drop too low and I will not be too obsessive. Probably.

In 2009, I will eat fruit. And maybe vegetables. I will strive for 2 servings a day. And maybe even throw in some exercise.

In 2009, I will roll with the punches better. We all know that I’m going to have 8 trillion doctor’s appointments and 42 different new diagnoses this year, so in 2009 I will accept that fate and try to embrace it. I am learning to cope through adversity. And cope I will, or at least laugh at myself more.

In 2009, I will rant less and swear less. I’ll still do both, but I will try to write more positives with less profanity because, well, things are a little Debby Downer-y here, and I wouldn’t mind changing that.

In 2009, I will enjoy the small things and the big things. I will try to find the upside and not dwell on the downside. I’ll try to spend less time complaining and more time enjoying the things that aren’t bothering me.

In 2009, even if I succeed at no other resolutions, I will work my hardest laugh more, love more and live more. Because I owe that much to myself, my husband and my friends.

May 2009 be the answer to prayers and hopes. The year of change and growth. And the year of not having my stuff stolen.