My body's New Year's present to me was an ear infection, or two, or just plain ear pain. I don't really know. Why not go to the doctor you ask? Well, I did and to call him a Quack is a bit of a compliment.
Let me start by saying that I wasn't one of those kids that got ear infections all the time. In fact, I never had an ear infection until I was 25 years old. I'm not exactly sure what caused it then but I had just moved to Houston and hadn't splurged on Cobra so I was essentially uninsured.
Having never had an ear infection before, I could only assume that having some ear pain, a clogged ear, and eventually hearing loss was just that. I tried some home remedies at first but nothing was cutting it. So after the pain escalated to losing the ability to chew and waking up every 30 minutes from pain, I decided to suck it up. A doctor's visit and antibiotics weren't exactly going to break the bank. Away I went.
After a week of antibiotics, the ear infection was gone. However, to my dismay, this would be the beginning of constant ear problems. What I am about to say is going to sound like I am exaggerating. I assure you, I am not. Since that ear infection 3 1/2 years ago, my ears have itched me. Not every few weeks I notice my ears are a little itchy. No. This is every day all day for 3 1/2 years my ears have been in a constant state of itchiness. The fact that I haven't been locked up in an insane asylum yet speaks to my mental stability--although a lot of my other personality traits may hint otherwise.
So in these 3 1/2 years, I have stuck just about everything that I could fit and scratch with into my ear. DON'T JUDGE! A) I know you're not supposed to stick anything smaller than your elbow into your ear for it's own health. B) I know and recognize how gross that sounds. But the truth is, if you dealt with what I've dealt with over all this time, you too would resort to these actions.
During this time, I have twice been to an ENT because whatever I stuck in my ear pushed the ear wax too far and I ended up with a clogged ear. Both times, removing the wax was painless both to my ear and as a process.
But whatever happened two weeks ago was not painless. It seemed that I woke up on New Year's Day with a double ear infection. I was in terrible pain. Unsure of what to do and since these came out of nowhere, I again tried to home medicate. This attempt only lasted about a day. I was soon on the phone with a GP that I've gone to a few times. They were able to get me in the next morning.
The next day I saw the doctor. He walked into the room and asked me about my ears. I told him that I had been in a lot of pain for about two days. Then he took a look.
Again, no exaggeration, his exact words: "Did anyone tell you you have narrow ear canals?"
Nope.
"I can't see anything you're ears are too swollen."
What's up, Captain Obvious? Did you miss the part where I told you that I was here for ear issues. Of course, they're swollen. I could have read about that on WebMD. What are you going to do about it??
So he proceded to fumble around and didn't know what to do. I finally jumped off the seat and showed him the antibiotics that I had been prescribed all those years ago for the original ear infection. He grumbled "Okay" and scribbled down a prescription.
I asked him if there was anything he could do for the pain. Now mind you, I was there for an ear infection. The night before I was up the entire night in excruciating pain. He looked at me as if I was some low-life drug seeker. He asked if I had taken anything. When I told him that 3 Advils weren't cutting it, he "prescribed" Extra Strength Tylenol. Thanks. That was helpful.
Then I asked him if there was anything he could tell me to do about my itchy ears. He looked at me like I had two heads, threw his arms up, and told me "No, there's nothing I could do."
Whaaaaa? Talk about thanks for nothing.
So, I left in frustration and headed to the CVS that was literally at the end of the block. I've never been to CVS before. Pretty much as long as I can remember, I have gotten my prescriptions from Walgreens. Unfortunately, they no longer accept my insurance. I was already pretty upset about this prior to this trip to CVS.
I headed to the back of the CVS and handed the Tech my newly written prescription. He asked me for some identifying information to which I quickly told him that I had never been to CVS before and wouldn't be in the computer. Take it from someone that has worked in customer service a long time, this was an invitation for the Tech to show me that I should have been going to CVS this whole time and to make me forget all about Walgreens.
Instead, what I got was ::CLICK::CLICK::CLICK:: on his computer. He walked away. He came back. He walked away again. He came back. He showed the Pharmacist the script but she was on the phone. He walked away again. He came back. All the while, never saying a single word to me about what he was doing.
Finally, they both looked at me and said "We don't have this."
Great. Just my luck.
Well, I was headed in the direction of home and there's a Walgreens around the corner from my house. I walked up to the counter and handed the Tech my script. She immediately picked up the phone and said to me, "We have to call the doctor. He didn't write what he was prescribing. He just wrote the instructions."
So this is how Walgreens helped me determine that the doctor was a Quack and how the CVS I went to had only morons on duty that day.
And those were my misadventures with two ear infections, a doctor, and a pharmacist. Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke... It sure felt that way.
Showing posts with label Misadventures. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Misadventures. Show all posts
Monday, January 16, 2012
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Misadventures in Playing with my Dogs
After work yesterday, all I wanted to do was watch Sports Night streaming on Netflix. To start from the beginning, I have recently accepted that I have a thing for Aaron Sorkin. It all started with a show called Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. I LOVED that show. But, it only lasted one season--side note: this also began my love/hate relationship with NBC.
I didn't think much about Sorkin again for several years. Actually, it wasn't until last year to be exact. See my favorite movie of the 2010 was The Social Network, screenplay by Aaron Sorkin. I recognized the love I had for that movie. It was the same I had for Studio 60.
So, I did the next logical thing anyone my age would do. I Googled him. I come to find out that Sorkin also wrote A Few Good Men. Interesting. I already knew about West Wing. But then, I see he wrote one of my favorite movies that I've loved for years, The American President. When I was a teenager, I used to watch this movie over and over again.
This weekend we saw Moneyball. I've wanted to see this movie since the first time I saw the preview. And yes, I wanted to see it even though I am a loyal NY Yankees fan. I love me some true stories. Well, this movie was terrific and then, as the credits rolled, I saw why I enjoyed it so much. "Screenplay by Aaron Sorkin" Of course.
Now, I'm hooked and determined to watch anything his name is tied to, starting with Sports Night, a show I've always read really good things about.
This is where the misadventure starts:
As I was sitting down to put it on, Nikki started crying. She wanted me to play with her. Fair enough. I grabbed my camera (See Below) and went outside with the girls. We played frisbee until the girls were pooped. We turned around to go inside and [please pause for drama effect] the door was locked. Awesome. All I brought outside with me was my trusty camera which in the case, does NOT make phone calls.
I walked around to the garage and was able to open it this time (you may remember this time when I locked myself out and COULDN'T open the garage). Walked over to wear I thought the key was hidden, but quickly realized I had NO idea wear it was hidden. I poked around my husband's stuff for a little bit, quickly noticing some little animal droppings. Terrified that if I moved anything something would jump out at me, I barely disrupted anything. Defeated, I walked back into the backyard and continued playing with the girls.
After playing with them for another 10 minutes or so, I realized Hubby could either be home any minute or he could just be leaving work--he's in a very busy time at work, so when he gets home has been pretty unpredictable. I didn't want to be stuck outside if he hadn't left work yet. So, braless and barefoot, I walked to my neighbors house, whom I barely know and really have only met twice for about 2 minutes each time.
First, while standing at their door waiting for them to answer, I got eaten alive by mosquitoes. Since we have our yard sprayed, I forget how serious the mosquitoes are. Then she came to the door and immediately started telling me how she was going to come over and get me. Whaaat? Didn't realize we were friends and that there'd ever be a reason to come get me (a post is definitely coming about my neighborhood and how no one talks/knows each other here). Okay.
So I asked to use her phone. Her husband never greeted me. Her kids seem sweet but they were never introduced to me. And I stand there, in all my braless glory, calling my husband (thank goodness I have his number memorized), while she stands there and anxiously waits for me to hang up.
See, she was "coming over to get me" because she was just about finished turning her house into a haunted house. Last year, while decorating for Halloween, I met her in our front yard. She told me how she converts part of the house into a haunted house for her daughter's birthday party every year. I thought that was pretty cool. She said that she'd come get me to see it when it was done but I didn't see her again until Christmas.
Then my neighbor began walking me through her haunted house. She had black garbage bags hanging from the walls and all these scary props. As we walked further in, it got darker and darker. And I realized, I don't know this woman from a hole in the wall. Just because you're living next to someone doesn't mean that they're good people.
I've seen the 'Burbs.
I've seen that Shia LaBeouf remake about the neighbor who is a serial killer.
Even Dexter has neighbors.
I could very well never come out of this "haunted house". Fantastic. All the ways I make sure I protect myself and lecture Hubby on how he fails, I've just walked into a trap...
How could I do this to myself?
What about all the things I've never gotten to do?
I'm still young with my entire life ahead of me!
I have no one to blame by myself! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!
Then we came out the other end and my panic subsided. I guess the haunted house works. Man, was I scared.
She let me go, although not without having me volunteer for our local historic society. That woman's good. I have to say. And away I went, just as I came, braless, barefoot, and getting eaten by mosquitoes.
In the end, I didn't get to watch Sports Night, but did get some quality time in with the girls. Silver lining: I got some cute pics while we were locked out. ENJOY!
I didn't think much about Sorkin again for several years. Actually, it wasn't until last year to be exact. See my favorite movie of the 2010 was The Social Network, screenplay by Aaron Sorkin. I recognized the love I had for that movie. It was the same I had for Studio 60.
So, I did the next logical thing anyone my age would do. I Googled him. I come to find out that Sorkin also wrote A Few Good Men. Interesting. I already knew about West Wing. But then, I see he wrote one of my favorite movies that I've loved for years, The American President. When I was a teenager, I used to watch this movie over and over again.
This weekend we saw Moneyball. I've wanted to see this movie since the first time I saw the preview. And yes, I wanted to see it even though I am a loyal NY Yankees fan. I love me some true stories. Well, this movie was terrific and then, as the credits rolled, I saw why I enjoyed it so much. "Screenplay by Aaron Sorkin" Of course.
Now, I'm hooked and determined to watch anything his name is tied to, starting with Sports Night, a show I've always read really good things about.
This is where the misadventure starts:
As I was sitting down to put it on, Nikki started crying. She wanted me to play with her. Fair enough. I grabbed my camera (See Below) and went outside with the girls. We played frisbee until the girls were pooped. We turned around to go inside and [please pause for drama effect] the door was locked. Awesome. All I brought outside with me was my trusty camera which in the case, does NOT make phone calls.
I walked around to the garage and was able to open it this time (you may remember this time when I locked myself out and COULDN'T open the garage). Walked over to wear I thought the key was hidden, but quickly realized I had NO idea wear it was hidden. I poked around my husband's stuff for a little bit, quickly noticing some little animal droppings. Terrified that if I moved anything something would jump out at me, I barely disrupted anything. Defeated, I walked back into the backyard and continued playing with the girls.
After playing with them for another 10 minutes or so, I realized Hubby could either be home any minute or he could just be leaving work--he's in a very busy time at work, so when he gets home has been pretty unpredictable. I didn't want to be stuck outside if he hadn't left work yet. So, braless and barefoot, I walked to my neighbors house, whom I barely know and really have only met twice for about 2 minutes each time.
First, while standing at their door waiting for them to answer, I got eaten alive by mosquitoes. Since we have our yard sprayed, I forget how serious the mosquitoes are. Then she came to the door and immediately started telling me how she was going to come over and get me. Whaaat? Didn't realize we were friends and that there'd ever be a reason to come get me (a post is definitely coming about my neighborhood and how no one talks/knows each other here). Okay.
So I asked to use her phone. Her husband never greeted me. Her kids seem sweet but they were never introduced to me. And I stand there, in all my braless glory, calling my husband (thank goodness I have his number memorized), while she stands there and anxiously waits for me to hang up.
See, she was "coming over to get me" because she was just about finished turning her house into a haunted house. Last year, while decorating for Halloween, I met her in our front yard. She told me how she converts part of the house into a haunted house for her daughter's birthday party every year. I thought that was pretty cool. She said that she'd come get me to see it when it was done but I didn't see her again until Christmas.
Then my neighbor began walking me through her haunted house. She had black garbage bags hanging from the walls and all these scary props. As we walked further in, it got darker and darker. And I realized, I don't know this woman from a hole in the wall. Just because you're living next to someone doesn't mean that they're good people.
I've seen the 'Burbs.
I've seen that Shia LaBeouf remake about the neighbor who is a serial killer.
Even Dexter has neighbors.
I could very well never come out of this "haunted house". Fantastic. All the ways I make sure I protect myself and lecture Hubby on how he fails, I've just walked into a trap...
How could I do this to myself?
What about all the things I've never gotten to do?
I'm still young with my entire life ahead of me!
I have no one to blame by myself! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!
Then we came out the other end and my panic subsided. I guess the haunted house works. Man, was I scared.
She let me go, although not without having me volunteer for our local historic society. That woman's good. I have to say. And away I went, just as I came, braless, barefoot, and getting eaten by mosquitoes.
In the end, I didn't get to watch Sports Night, but did get some quality time in with the girls. Silver lining: I got some cute pics while we were locked out. ENJOY!
Playing before we realized we were locked out.
How can you resist Stella's smiling?
While locked out, we played until Nikki was pooped.
This little girl loves her frisbee, so it sure takes a lot to get her to that point.
After I realized we were locked out and I went to the neighbors house.
"Hey, Mom. Where are you going? We'll keep playing if you want."
<3
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Misadventures in Pleasures R Us
WARNING: This contains some adult content. Although, I'm not really sure just going to an adult store qualifies us as adults. I mean really, we giggled at most things like teenagers.
A little insight about me: I'm totally fine with porn. Not too long after (now) Hubby turned 18 and I was visiting him at college, we made the exciting walk (yes, we were just freshman, so he wasn't allowed a car on campus yet) to an adult shop near his school. This was the first time either of us had ever been to a place like this. I can remember the feeling of how exciting it was to be doing something so grown-up. I also remember getting carded when we walked in. That makes me laugh today. We looked around, giggled at the toys, and settled on a dvd. You know, one with a plot.
We rushed back to the dorm to watch our new treasure. And here's the part that may make you judge me. We got back and (now) Hubby's roommate was in the room. It seemed totally logical to me to invite him to watch it with us. So, he did. So the three of us watched the porno together. Maybe because of that or maybe because I just really liked the guy, I'll always have a special place in my heart for him. When the movie was over, well, let's just say we kicked the roommate out.
So, during our dating years, we watched our fair share of adult movies. There were more exciting times at adult stores. Some downloading on lap tops. Rest assure though, that was the first and only time we watched them with anyone else.
For some reason though, we really haven't done anything like that since I moved in with him in Texas three years ago. There's been some soft-core late night cable TV stuff, but that's really it.
A few nights ago, Hubby said (this is a direct quote), "You know what I could go for? Some porn." And then proceeded to get the computer. Laying in bed with the lap top watching dirty movies in bed with Hubby just seemed a little off to me. So I nixed the idea. It felt like we were in college--and while there is some excitement to those feelings usually, it wasn't doing it for me this time.
Well, yesterday, after Hubby came home to find that I mowed the lawn (that's for real, not an innuendo for anything), he said that I could pick what we did for the evening. I of course, picked one of my favorite restaurants with one of my favorite desserts and my favorite non-margarita drink. After dinner we were heading back home, and it hit me, "Let's go to Pleasures R Us." Not the real name of the store but thought it made a cute name for my purposes. So we turned around and headed that way.
I've been to this place a couple of times. It's a lot of fun and at least in my experience, really doesn't have the sleazy feeling to it. They have a lot of lingerie and things to dress up in, so it almost feels like a little dirtier VS. So we looked around and giggled at some of the toys and packaging--I'm sorry, I just can't help it when I see "Crotchless".
I picked a little something out and then we headed to the videos. Again, giggling ensued from both of us. We were both being particular about our picks. No fetish stuff, nothing that made me feel creepy (ie girls on the cover looking too young). Hubby found a Superman parody that looked pretty good but would have cost an arm and a leg so we passed on that one. Then we found a reasonably priced Taxi parody. Yes, Taxi, the beloved late 70s/early 80s sitcom starring Tony Danza, Danny Devito, and crew.
We headed to the register and checked out--quite excited about our find. When we got home, I opened our treat to find...no dvds inside. We just brought home an empty box. Awesome. Disappointed, I called and they told me they had the discs. It was already too late by then though. So I'll be heading there again today. I'll let you know how the storyline holds up compared to the sitcom.
A little insight about me: I'm totally fine with porn. Not too long after (now) Hubby turned 18 and I was visiting him at college, we made the exciting walk (yes, we were just freshman, so he wasn't allowed a car on campus yet) to an adult shop near his school. This was the first time either of us had ever been to a place like this. I can remember the feeling of how exciting it was to be doing something so grown-up. I also remember getting carded when we walked in. That makes me laugh today. We looked around, giggled at the toys, and settled on a dvd. You know, one with a plot.
We rushed back to the dorm to watch our new treasure. And here's the part that may make you judge me. We got back and (now) Hubby's roommate was in the room. It seemed totally logical to me to invite him to watch it with us. So, he did. So the three of us watched the porno together. Maybe because of that or maybe because I just really liked the guy, I'll always have a special place in my heart for him. When the movie was over, well, let's just say we kicked the roommate out.
So, during our dating years, we watched our fair share of adult movies. There were more exciting times at adult stores. Some downloading on lap tops. Rest assure though, that was the first and only time we watched them with anyone else.
For some reason though, we really haven't done anything like that since I moved in with him in Texas three years ago. There's been some soft-core late night cable TV stuff, but that's really it.
A few nights ago, Hubby said (this is a direct quote), "You know what I could go for? Some porn." And then proceeded to get the computer. Laying in bed with the lap top watching dirty movies in bed with Hubby just seemed a little off to me. So I nixed the idea. It felt like we were in college--and while there is some excitement to those feelings usually, it wasn't doing it for me this time.
Well, yesterday, after Hubby came home to find that I mowed the lawn (that's for real, not an innuendo for anything), he said that I could pick what we did for the evening. I of course, picked one of my favorite restaurants with one of my favorite desserts and my favorite non-margarita drink. After dinner we were heading back home, and it hit me, "Let's go to Pleasures R Us." Not the real name of the store but thought it made a cute name for my purposes. So we turned around and headed that way.
I've been to this place a couple of times. It's a lot of fun and at least in my experience, really doesn't have the sleazy feeling to it. They have a lot of lingerie and things to dress up in, so it almost feels like a little dirtier VS. So we looked around and giggled at some of the toys and packaging--I'm sorry, I just can't help it when I see "Crotchless".
I picked a little something out and then we headed to the videos. Again, giggling ensued from both of us. We were both being particular about our picks. No fetish stuff, nothing that made me feel creepy (ie girls on the cover looking too young). Hubby found a Superman parody that looked pretty good but would have cost an arm and a leg so we passed on that one. Then we found a reasonably priced Taxi parody. Yes, Taxi, the beloved late 70s/early 80s sitcom starring Tony Danza, Danny Devito, and crew.
We headed to the register and checked out--quite excited about our find. When we got home, I opened our treat to find...no dvds inside. We just brought home an empty box. Awesome. Disappointed, I called and they told me they had the discs. It was already too late by then though. So I'll be heading there again today. I'll let you know how the storyline holds up compared to the sitcom.
Friday, September 30, 2011
I Can Cross That Off My Bucket List
First I have to add it to my bucket list and then I can cross it off.
Today I mowed the lawn for the very first time in my life. I'm 28 years old.
In order to tell this tale, I'll have to back up a little bit. Let's start with childhood. Not only was I a spoiled only child, but I also had asthma. So certain chores were off limits in my mother's eyes. Dusting, vacuuming (dust allergy), and mowing the lawn (grass allergy), to name a few, were out of the question. See, I was really sick from 1-5 years and my mother always feared I still had that in me. As a teenager not wanting to do chores, I couldn't have agreed with her more.
As an adult, I've mostly lived in apartments which means mowing the lawn was again not my problem. However, over a year ago, my husband and I moved into our first home. We agreed that I would take care of the inside and he would take care of the outside. But really, I hire someone to clean our house so Hubby kind of got the raw end of the deal. But, while I've tried to encourage him a lot to hire someone for outside (you know, so I don't have to feel guilty about hiring someone for inside), he insists on doing it himself. It's a pride thing and supposedly, he enjoys it. After my experience today, I can only assume he is high while he does it.
So fast forward to about a month ago. Hubby has been working shift work at the plant for turnaround. What does this mean? A whole lot of crap I don't understand but mostly that he's working 12 hour days, 19 days at a time. Since the days have been getting shorter, he is not getting home in time to do the lawn which recently became a bit of a nightmare to look at--sorry, neighbors.
Side bar: I have a neighbor across the street that literally spends days weeding her lawn by hand. Needless to say, this woman already filed a complaint against us with the HOA. Well, I don't know that for a fact but I know a complaint was put in and I know that she's crazy. So 2+2=4. I was getting a little nervous that someone might say something to the HOA. Heaven forbid, our neighbors actually talk to each other. Rather than do the neighborly thing and come over to make sure everything's alright, their answer would be to report us. BUT I digress.
In order to avoid a potential complaint, Hubby came home early yesterday to mow the lawn. But in typical Houston fashion (even dead smack in the middle of a record breaking drought), it started to down pour literally right as my husband walks through the door. Now, he lost out on the overtime and he couldn't fix the lawn that I can tell he's starting to become ashamed of.
By the way, for the last week, I've been keeping an eye out for our neighbors' lawn services so that I could just ask them to run over the grass for us. Figured I could slip them some cash and it would only take 30 minutes or so, if that. But of course, similar to cops, when I needed them, they were nowhere to be seen. Uggh.
Today, Hubby did the unthinkable. He called me and told me to get prices for a lawn service. ::GASP:: I made a few calls, and quickly learned that the earliest I was going to get someone here was mid-week next week. The truth is the yard needed to be mowed last weekend. So these timelines, even if I get them to come then, weren't going to cut it.
So, in an effort to win Wife of the Year 2011, I put sneakers on and went into the garage to figure out this contraption they call a lawnmower. And the lawnmower won. I could not figure out how the hell to turn that thing on. I rustled through his work bench to see if I could find the manual, but I couldn't. I came inside and checked our filing cabinet for the manual, under Instruction Manuals of course. Nothing. I Googled it and the I YouTubed it.
With my new YouTube knowledge, I headed back outside to give it another try. Nope, still couldn't figure it out. Then I nosed around his workbench a little more and found the manual! The manual was for 4 different models though so then I had to figure out which model we have.
Then I got it to start! YAY!
I went up a small strip of grass, made a circle, and then...
And then...
Then, it stalled and I couldn't get it to go back on. So I had one little patch of grass mowed in a design of course. And not one of those cool designs like on baseball fields. Just a little loop that I stared at and thought how Hubby would say, "Maybe next time you shouldn't try to help."
But then, after MANY tries and probably doing some damage to his precious lawnmower, I got it to go again. And I mowed until it stalled again.
This went on for the next hour and a half. But I eventually got MOST of the front yard done--at least enough to avoid any complaints.
Did I mention it was 90 degrees outside today? How about the fact that our air conditioning was broken?
I was pretty certain I was going to die. But I didn't. So I will be adding, 'Mowing the Lawn' to my bucket list, purely just so I may cross it off.
Wife of the Year better come with some serious jewelry.
Today I mowed the lawn for the very first time in my life. I'm 28 years old.
In order to tell this tale, I'll have to back up a little bit. Let's start with childhood. Not only was I a spoiled only child, but I also had asthma. So certain chores were off limits in my mother's eyes. Dusting, vacuuming (dust allergy), and mowing the lawn (grass allergy), to name a few, were out of the question. See, I was really sick from 1-5 years and my mother always feared I still had that in me. As a teenager not wanting to do chores, I couldn't have agreed with her more.
As an adult, I've mostly lived in apartments which means mowing the lawn was again not my problem. However, over a year ago, my husband and I moved into our first home. We agreed that I would take care of the inside and he would take care of the outside. But really, I hire someone to clean our house so Hubby kind of got the raw end of the deal. But, while I've tried to encourage him a lot to hire someone for outside (you know, so I don't have to feel guilty about hiring someone for inside), he insists on doing it himself. It's a pride thing and supposedly, he enjoys it. After my experience today, I can only assume he is high while he does it.
So fast forward to about a month ago. Hubby has been working shift work at the plant for turnaround. What does this mean? A whole lot of crap I don't understand but mostly that he's working 12 hour days, 19 days at a time. Since the days have been getting shorter, he is not getting home in time to do the lawn which recently became a bit of a nightmare to look at--sorry, neighbors.
Side bar: I have a neighbor across the street that literally spends days weeding her lawn by hand. Needless to say, this woman already filed a complaint against us with the HOA. Well, I don't know that for a fact but I know a complaint was put in and I know that she's crazy. So 2+2=4. I was getting a little nervous that someone might say something to the HOA. Heaven forbid, our neighbors actually talk to each other. Rather than do the neighborly thing and come over to make sure everything's alright, their answer would be to report us. BUT I digress.
In order to avoid a potential complaint, Hubby came home early yesterday to mow the lawn. But in typical Houston fashion (even dead smack in the middle of a record breaking drought), it started to down pour literally right as my husband walks through the door. Now, he lost out on the overtime and he couldn't fix the lawn that I can tell he's starting to become ashamed of.
By the way, for the last week, I've been keeping an eye out for our neighbors' lawn services so that I could just ask them to run over the grass for us. Figured I could slip them some cash and it would only take 30 minutes or so, if that. But of course, similar to cops, when I needed them, they were nowhere to be seen. Uggh.
Today, Hubby did the unthinkable. He called me and told me to get prices for a lawn service. ::GASP:: I made a few calls, and quickly learned that the earliest I was going to get someone here was mid-week next week. The truth is the yard needed to be mowed last weekend. So these timelines, even if I get them to come then, weren't going to cut it.
So, in an effort to win Wife of the Year 2011, I put sneakers on and went into the garage to figure out this contraption they call a lawnmower. And the lawnmower won. I could not figure out how the hell to turn that thing on. I rustled through his work bench to see if I could find the manual, but I couldn't. I came inside and checked our filing cabinet for the manual, under Instruction Manuals of course. Nothing. I Googled it and the I YouTubed it.
With my new YouTube knowledge, I headed back outside to give it another try. Nope, still couldn't figure it out. Then I nosed around his workbench a little more and found the manual! The manual was for 4 different models though so then I had to figure out which model we have.
Then I got it to start! YAY!
I went up a small strip of grass, made a circle, and then...
And then...
Then, it stalled and I couldn't get it to go back on. So I had one little patch of grass mowed in a design of course. And not one of those cool designs like on baseball fields. Just a little loop that I stared at and thought how Hubby would say, "Maybe next time you shouldn't try to help."
But then, after MANY tries and probably doing some damage to his precious lawnmower, I got it to go again. And I mowed until it stalled again.
This went on for the next hour and a half. But I eventually got MOST of the front yard done--at least enough to avoid any complaints.
Did I mention it was 90 degrees outside today? How about the fact that our air conditioning was broken?
I was pretty certain I was going to die. But I didn't. So I will be adding, 'Mowing the Lawn' to my bucket list, purely just so I may cross it off.
Wife of the Year better come with some serious jewelry.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Misadventures in Making Myself a Better Person
I've recently been making decisions to make myself a "better" person. One of these things is to be more creative. So, I enrolled in a photography class.
But it's me, so there was no way it could have gone smoothly.
I'm not taking the photography class anymore. Yes, just a few posts ago, I wrote about how excited I was and today, I'm telling you I withdrew from the class.
The difference is that I went to the instructor's own website. Don't ask why I didn't think to do this before. I guess I just assumed the instructor would be talented. I still strive today to be like my photography teachers and professors that I had while I was in the past.
I don't know if it's appropriate to share the photographer's website, especially since I'm about to say some not so great things about his work. So, I'll leave you with this image: Think about the shots you took when you were a kid. Heads were chopped off, fingers were in the way, etc. The "art" in those shots are comparable to the art that's displayed on this man's website.
So, I showed my friend that was taking the class with me the site. She too was shocked. We decided that there was no way we were going to be able to take this man's class seriously. We called to withdraw from the class.
My friend was on the phone for about 3-4 minutes. Withdrawn.
I called, requested to withdraw and the following 15-minute conversation ensued:
Note: ::Inner monologue::
School Rep: Why are you withdrawing?
::Great. How can I put this delicately? Ummm, you're instructor's a joke::
Me: Well, I did some research on the instructor and found his personal website. I just don't think his work is in line with what I would like to do.
School Rep: What was the website?
Me: blahblahblah.com
School Rep: Can you hold for a minute?
Me: Sure.
Approximately 30 seconds of holding
School Rep: Do you mind speaking with the instructor's boss?
Me: Sure ::Great. This is escalating. This could only happen to me::
Head of Dept: Hello.
::Yes, this is how he started. I thought, is he going to say something? Does he know why I'm on the phone with him?::
Me: Hi, this is blah blah. I was speaking to the representative to withdraw from the photography class.
Head of Dept: Would you mind explaining to me why you're withdrawing?
Me: Well, I came across the instructors website and just don't think that his work is in line with what I would like to do with my photography.
Head of Dept: What was the website?
Me: blahblahblah.com
Head of Dept: mumble mumble mumble ::I could tell he wasn't on the right site, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt.::
Me: So, you see how most of his work is just point-and-shoot, right? This just isn't the type of class I was looking for.
Head of Dept: What kind of class were you looking for?
Me: I was expecting a class that was more, ummm, artsy. ::How can I delicately put that this photographer's work is not as good as mine? I'm hoping to learn in my class not teach the instructor::
Head of Dept: Oh, well. So-and-so is a renowned Houston photographer.
Me: Well, I assume he's putting his best work on the website and this just isn't something I was looking for. I have a camera worth a $1000 and want to learn the proper way to shoot with it. ::He has his camera set to all auto-settings and he's just framing the shot in the center and clicking a button! He would produce the same work with one of those disposable cameras::
Head of Dept: Oh, okay. Well, thanks for letting me know.
10 minutes later my phone rings.
Head of Dept: Hi, I just wanted to let you know that the photographer's website is blahblahblah.com.
Me: Yes, I know. That's the site I was on. ::I KNEW IT! I could tell he was on the wrong site. I can't believe he's calling me back thinking that this work is better? Do not even want to see what site he was on before::
Head of Dept: Oh, okay. Well sorry for bothering you.
Rather than just leaving it there, I decided I was going to be "helpful". To do this, I emailed him a list of sites of photographers I like and those that I have hired. I assumed he would see the VAST difference in technique and just drop it. I explained that I aspired to be like photographers I would hire.
He wrote back and said that the photographer takes his students out of the classroom and shoots with them. He also thought a conversation with the instructor would help. Whaaaat? How do either of those things make a difference? The photographers I sent have beautiful skills and technique. This guy's taking shots I took when I was 7.
After all these attempts, he wasn't getting it. So in my final email, I had to come out and say it. I just didn't like his work. I couldn't take a class where I didn't respect the instructor's work PERIOD
So now my husband thinks I'm a quitter--did I mention he doesn't have an artful eye? Even showing him the photographer's website all he could say was "Does he only shoot women?" Ahh, my husband. So insightful.
I'm keeping my eyes open for another class but also picked up a very thorough instruction book. I might just start assigning myself some projects and see how they go.
So in typical Chubby Transplant fashion, MISSION: TEMPORARILY ON HOLD DUE TO RIDICULOUSNESS AROUND ME
But it's me, so there was no way it could have gone smoothly.
I'm not taking the photography class anymore. Yes, just a few posts ago, I wrote about how excited I was and today, I'm telling you I withdrew from the class.
The difference is that I went to the instructor's own website. Don't ask why I didn't think to do this before. I guess I just assumed the instructor would be talented. I still strive today to be like my photography teachers and professors that I had while I was in the past.
I don't know if it's appropriate to share the photographer's website, especially since I'm about to say some not so great things about his work. So, I'll leave you with this image: Think about the shots you took when you were a kid. Heads were chopped off, fingers were in the way, etc. The "art" in those shots are comparable to the art that's displayed on this man's website.
So, I showed my friend that was taking the class with me the site. She too was shocked. We decided that there was no way we were going to be able to take this man's class seriously. We called to withdraw from the class.
My friend was on the phone for about 3-4 minutes. Withdrawn.
I called, requested to withdraw and the following 15-minute conversation ensued:
Note: ::Inner monologue::
School Rep: Why are you withdrawing?
::Great. How can I put this delicately? Ummm, you're instructor's a joke::
Me: Well, I did some research on the instructor and found his personal website. I just don't think his work is in line with what I would like to do.
School Rep: What was the website?
Me: blahblahblah.com
School Rep: Can you hold for a minute?
Me: Sure.
Approximately 30 seconds of holding
School Rep: Do you mind speaking with the instructor's boss?
Me: Sure ::Great. This is escalating. This could only happen to me::
Head of Dept: Hello.
::Yes, this is how he started. I thought, is he going to say something? Does he know why I'm on the phone with him?::
Me: Hi, this is blah blah. I was speaking to the representative to withdraw from the photography class.
Head of Dept: Would you mind explaining to me why you're withdrawing?
Me: Well, I came across the instructors website and just don't think that his work is in line with what I would like to do with my photography.
Head of Dept: What was the website?
Me: blahblahblah.com
Head of Dept: mumble mumble mumble ::I could tell he wasn't on the right site, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt.::
Me: So, you see how most of his work is just point-and-shoot, right? This just isn't the type of class I was looking for.
Head of Dept: What kind of class were you looking for?
Me: I was expecting a class that was more, ummm, artsy. ::How can I delicately put that this photographer's work is not as good as mine? I'm hoping to learn in my class not teach the instructor::
Head of Dept: Oh, well. So-and-so is a renowned Houston photographer.
Me: Well, I assume he's putting his best work on the website and this just isn't something I was looking for. I have a camera worth a $1000 and want to learn the proper way to shoot with it. ::He has his camera set to all auto-settings and he's just framing the shot in the center and clicking a button! He would produce the same work with one of those disposable cameras::
Head of Dept: Oh, okay. Well, thanks for letting me know.
10 minutes later my phone rings.
Head of Dept: Hi, I just wanted to let you know that the photographer's website is blahblahblah.com.
Me: Yes, I know. That's the site I was on. ::I KNEW IT! I could tell he was on the wrong site. I can't believe he's calling me back thinking that this work is better? Do not even want to see what site he was on before::
Head of Dept: Oh, okay. Well sorry for bothering you.
Rather than just leaving it there, I decided I was going to be "helpful". To do this, I emailed him a list of sites of photographers I like and those that I have hired. I assumed he would see the VAST difference in technique and just drop it. I explained that I aspired to be like photographers I would hire.
He wrote back and said that the photographer takes his students out of the classroom and shoots with them. He also thought a conversation with the instructor would help. Whaaaat? How do either of those things make a difference? The photographers I sent have beautiful skills and technique. This guy's taking shots I took when I was 7.
After all these attempts, he wasn't getting it. So in my final email, I had to come out and say it. I just didn't like his work. I couldn't take a class where I didn't respect the instructor's work PERIOD
So now my husband thinks I'm a quitter--did I mention he doesn't have an artful eye? Even showing him the photographer's website all he could say was "Does he only shoot women?" Ahh, my husband. So insightful.
I'm keeping my eyes open for another class but also picked up a very thorough instruction book. I might just start assigning myself some projects and see how they go.
So in typical Chubby Transplant fashion, MISSION: TEMPORARILY ON HOLD DUE TO RIDICULOUSNESS AROUND ME
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