Wednesday, August 24, 2005

I missed the mimeographed sheet.

When I was younger my sisters and I had these awesome tapes from a guy called Bill Harley (who is a riot). On one of these tapes Bill talked about what it was like to be in middle school and how he often felt like there must have been a mimeographed sheet passed out on the first day of school (which he missed) on how to be cool. Yesterday that was exactly how I felt when I tried to buy my first cell phone.
Yes, you heard me right. There is someone on the planet who still does not have a cell phone, a fact I would be fine with if I didn't have an old clunker of a car or if I did not have a small side business planning weddings. I decided for my safety and my sanity, I would get it over with.
I've been thinking about this for a while, I know essentially what I want and I want it from Verizon, because my husband has Verizon and everyone I know has only been happy with them. So yesterday acting on my husband's suggestion I decided to drop by a local store on my way home to talk to the employee about phones and plans and possibly get myself up on the times.

Boy was I wrong.

I could have sworn instead of walking into a Verizon Wireless store in Columbus, OH I had instead stepped into Grand Central Station. It was packed. It was huge. There were 9 people in line at a big rounded counter, there were people milling about, there were 7 more people in line at a customer service counter in an alcove in the rear. They had a greeter.

I am so not ready for this.

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Coming soon to shower near you!

Today having a spare moment for the first time in about a week I decided to pop over to my blog. I was stuck with giddy excitement as I saw that I had a comment! Upon opening the comment I found a 3 paragraph speal about why I should buy stock in lumber. I read through at least half of it thinking surely this was a joke, albeit a very unfunny one. My husband tells me he has heard of blog spamming, but until now thought it was a myth. Sadly, such is not the case.
It occurs to me now that cell phone companies are selling phone numbers to advertisers, who will accost hapless cellphone users with their adverts, aol instant messenger has commercials flashing and playing atop user's buddy lists, pop ups are a way of life and everyone I know has 27 email addresses to combat the spam, perhaps someday soon I'll climb into my morning shower to find someone has figured out how to send spam through water.

No where is safe.

Thursday, August 18, 2005

I've been possessed.

6:15am: The incessant beeping of my alarm wakes me husband who rolls over and patients tries to wake my limp body with the success of my first driving test.

6:25 am: He manages to cause me to prise my eyes open, glare at him, and roll back over.

6:30am: He finally coerces me to get out of bed, slamming the bathroom door as I leave the room.

6:35am: I am a monster. My snooze alarm sounds once more, this time as I am padding into our kitchen just quickly enough to avoid the furball nipping at my heels. I listen for a second, growl at the fact that he made me get up, decide he deserves it and continue on to feed the cat.

7:05am: My eyes clear to find myself munching on a breakfast bar watching the opening minutes of the Today Show... although I have not fallen asleep again, I have no recollection of that past half hour. I stumble in to the shower, setting the kitchen timer on my way so this does not happen again.

9:22am: I sit chugging coffee I barely remembered to bring at my desk, eyes glazed over. I may wake up by time for our departmental meeting at 11.

Sunday, August 14, 2005

The solace of Ruggles, and I don't mean the ice cream

While on vacation this week at my annual casual family reunion, I was lazily taking in some sun on my favorite pier when I came across an article in Real Simple magazine. The article, ironically was on placed which change and touch our lives in simple ways just by being a place of sweet refuge & growth - a constant always there to return to. The article was sweet, it made me search my consciousness for such a place in my own life.
As I laid there glistening in the too-hot midwestern sun listening to the gulls and enjoying the light breeze whipping my loose hairs into my eyes and mouth, I completely missed the fact that not only does such a spot exist for me, I was there.
On Lake Erie between two tiny towns there is a little place called Ruggles Beach. It's only about a block long with little cottages crammed in two and three deep between a steep hill and the state route. Next to the cottages along the road is a well-hidden faded sign stating hotel & motel since 1912 and a gravel road. Once our car crunches onto that gravel in early August every year I'm home.
Immediately a small three-story white hotel and behind it a slightly larger mint green two-story lodge come into view. At the rear of the lodge is a small porch which steps out onto a wide green lawn spotted with trees. At the edge of the lawn is a steep incline and steps leading down to the beach. My beach.
The first time I visited this beach I was barely two months old. On this beach I built sandcastles, learned to swim (earning myself the nickname "Molly the mackerel", I watched meteor showers (though I rarely saw much), fireworks, sunsets & fireflies. It was on this beach a guy first dared to slide his hand under my bra, while inwardly despite my adolescent hormonal thrill, I fretted that our parents would happen to glance down the hill and see us. It was here I first suffered writer's block, as I sat on that same pier at night, overwhelmed by my love for this place, the only time I have been so overwhelmed by emotion except the first time I kissed my husband. It was also here that my husband and I spent our first family event as a married couple - just a month after our honeymoon a year ago.
This year we arrived worn and weary from a hard winter and the hottest summer I can remember. As I sat writing this on my last full day on the lake of 2005 I realized that I was home. The stress of the extremely wearing first year of our marriage had left us closer since our marriage was the only good thing that happened to us, but somewhat raw. I knew driving away the following day the soothing calm we were experiencing would begin to ebb away, only to be replaced with my longing for August of 2006.

Saturday, August 06, 2005

Ohhhh nooo, a snake...

I just don't know what to think about these, or why they amuse me so, but they're too funny not to pass on.

Bagers & Mushrooms

Thursday, August 04, 2005

Mrs. BananaHammock

A little over a year ago, my husband and I went downtown to obtain our marriage license, where we asked them how we would go about changing our names. My husband has a hyphenated last name which we will call Blueberry-Pony and I have the king of last names hated by computers everywhere, we'll call Super.calli-fragillist-ic.expealidocious. Our plan was to separate his name so that Blueberry would become his second middle name and to make Super.calli-fragillist-ic.expealidocious my middle name (I'm one of those weirdos who doesn't have a middle name). I would then have Pony as my legal last name, but I would use Supercallifragillist-ic.expealidocious-Pony most of the time.

Well, what we found out is that because my husband is also planning on changing his name we would each have to pay $112 and schedule court time to change our names. Riiiight. I don't have 88 cents to buy myself a cup of coffee!

The result? We have been married for 13 months and have completely different names and every once in a long while when someone calls me my legal married name I think of my grandmother and giggle.

It's also worth noting that if I wanted to simply take my husband's last name it (providing he was not changing his) it would have been free, however had he wanted to take MY last name? $112 & court time of course. Ohio is sexist.

I'm starting think we should both just start going by Apple.

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

WHAT??? Did you say Vanilla???

I have last name which is unusual in this area of the world. It is not even remotely computer friendly, or American friendly. By this I mean, my last name has no vowels (unless you count Y, that power of a vowel.) and a period. My point is that I am used to people making a hellacious train wreck of trying to pronounce my name. My last name.

My first name is a very easy name, short, sweet & to the point. My name is not common, but not uncommon, everyone knows how to spell and pronounce it. Except the people who call me at my job.

I don't know why, but people on the phone seem to be incapable of listening. Every person in my department has been called the most asinine names because of this, including one of my coworkers who was once called Vanilla.