People Are Stupid

In case you were worrying that people may have wised up since the last time I gave you an update, rest assured-- they're still incredibly stupid. Today I saw several examples of extreme human dumbassedness.

On Evelyn Gandy Parkway an idiot on a brand new Harley nearly got himself and his girlfriend squished by a pickup truck when he suddenly slowed down in front of it BECAUSE HE WAS TALKING ON THE CELL PHONE THAT HIS GIRLFRIEND WAS HOLDING UP TO HIS EAR. If using a cell phone in a car is risky, using one on a motorcycle is f*cking suicidal.

Then I saw an idiot in a Nissan Sentra nearly get killed because she came to a complete. freaking. stop. at the end of an on-ramp to I-59. MERGE, BITCH! I hate people who do the stop-at-the-end-of-the-onramp thing. Every time I see it, I feel an overwhelming urge to slam into their car just so I can give them a lesson in not coming to a stop in interstate traffic.

After that I saw an idiot in a Kia smash into the back of a truck at a red light. I'd bet you a hillbilly supply of farm animals he was talking on a cell phone, or texting, or doing some other stupid, non-driving-related activity when he should've been looking straight ahead so he could notice that the truck in the windshield was getting bigger. Tim pointed out that the truck was unscathed while the Kia appeared to have major damage. There were lots of little Kia parts on Hardy Street. I guess that's what you get when you buy a car that looks like a luxury sedan but only costs $9000-- a purchasing decision that may serve as further proof of the man's inferior reasoning abilities.

All three of my human stupidity encounters were traffic related. Sadly, all three of these things were witnessed in less than 20 minutes of driving. Now I remember why I never leave the house.

Where's Judge Judy when you need her?

The second court date for my lawsuit against the bikers from hell was yesterday. Long story short, he made up a story, said he'd never had my bike-- just the tank-- admitted he screwed up the paint but said he offered to fix it for me the day I picked it up. That's not true. He offered me a free oil change, and didn't offer to repaint it until way late in the game, after he found out I was suing him. That made me seem like I just couldn't be pleased no matter what, which was his intention. The judge asked me if I would let him repaint the bike now, and I said no. I realized that wasn't helping me any, but I'd rather walk away penniless than take my bike back to them. I'm 100% certain they would do something to it. A hundred percent certain. When the judge asked me why I wouldn't let him redo it, I said I didn't trust him. He asked why, and I said something to the effect of, "He has no integrity." Well, what I was *about* to say was that every time he's worked on my bike, something else has mysteriously been wrong with it when I picked it up, but I didn't get the chance to finish because it turns out that nothing gets a good laugh in a Covington County courtroom like the word "integrity." They found that hilarious, and by "they" I mean the judge. The judge who, by the way, reopened this case for the defendant even though he didn't show up for court the first time, and the law says that the judgment automatically goes in my favor and that he has 30 days to appeal. Forget the law though, right? The judge can do whatever he wants. Speaking of integrity. *cough cough small town good ol' boy system cough cough*

In the end, I got half my money. Or rather, I got judgement for half of what I asked for. Minus court fees. And minus another $50, and I'm not sure why. So no, I didn't get half. I got $350. Half would've been $400. Plus court fees. I'm not a mathematician, but I think it adds up to Deadpan Ann getting fucked. I proved my case beyond any shadow of a doubt, yet didn't get full judgment? Bullshit. Judge Judy would've ripped him a new one.

I did tell the bikers that I was gonna cost them a hell of a lot more than $800 before it was said and done, because I'm gonna tell this story to everybody who will listen. I said that right in court, and was surprised when nobody said a word. They know they did me wrong. I plan to make good on my promise, too, starting with this--




That's a mockup of a magnetic decal my friend is making for me. It will go across the top of the tank, right above the botched paint. I pick it up tomorrow and I can't wait to slap it on and go for a ride.

Brace yourself, dear reader, because I'm about to give you a piece of earth shattering news.

I joined a gym. I know. Joining a gym doesn't cause weight loss, but maybe it's a start. I joined Curves, to be more specific. It's not expensive, and I think it's going to help me. There's some accountability involved, and the workout is impossible to screw up. They have a bunch of exercise equipment in a big circle. One machine might be a rowing machine, then the next one works your legs somehow, and so forth. Between each machine is a "rest station," which is just a platform thing where you do whatever you want to keep your heart rate up. Basically, you just move in place however you want. It's set up so that every body part gets worked, but you never wear out any one part, and you can let your muscles rest for short periods between machines without letting your heart rate drop too low. There's a cd playing overhead that plays this pump-me-up music, and every 30 seconds a voice tells you to change stations. So you're only in one station for 30 seconds. The whole workout takes like 28 minutes, I'm told.

They measured me and weighed me today, and also asked me a bunch of questions about medical history, what my motivation is for wanting to do this, etc. They ask you where you want to be as far as weight, dress size, etc., then they take measurements and figure out what it will take to get you there. There's also some help with nutritional stuff, which I need.

I'm going to give it all I've got, and it is either going to kill me or make me stronger. I'll keep you updated, assuming I survive.

Another point for Missouri

I don't know if this should be filed under "redneckery" or "just plain stupid." Somehow, I think it's both. Either way, it's a big point for Missouri in the Missouri-Mississippi redneck/retard race.

Full article.

According to witnesses James Looney was insistent on giving his girlfriend a personal lesson in firearm safety Friday before taking her to a shooting range, MyFOXMemphis reported.

As part of the tutorial, Looney demonstrated different safety features on several firearms then put the guns to his head and asked if they would fire, Jefferson County Sheriff told the station. The third gun actually went off.

Full article.

Mapquest ruined my day.

Mapquest is the DEVIL. The show Tim is seeing tonight is at Stubb's Barbeque in Austin. I looked up the address and punched it into Mapquest. It showed that Stubb's is located out west of town, about 20 miles from our hotel, so this morning we set out to find it so that Tim wouldn't have any trouble getting there. I copied down the directions, and we headed that way. To make a really long story short, the directions were OH SO VERY WRONG. Of course we called the location to ask for directions, but there was no way to get a live person on the phone. We stopped at a couple of gas stations and asked for directions, but one lady didn't know where it was and another guy told us we were close to it but headed in the wrong direction. We wasted another half hour following his directions only to end up in the parking lot of a high school in an area that obviously had no barbecue joint or amphitheatre. We spent over two hours driving-- over 60 miles total-- only to give up and come back to the hotel.

This time I just Googled "Stubb's bbq directions," and a map popped up. The place is downtown-- about 2 miles from our hotel. Very easy to find. Unless you use Mapquest, which, by the way, IS THE DEVIL.

Words cannot adequately convey to you the level of frustration I experienced during this clusterf*ck of a wild goose chase. We had plans for the day, and they didn't involve driving around lost for almost 3 hours. We were going to visit a couple of museums, explore Austin, walk around downtown, eat at a good restaurant. All that was out the window because even once we found the place, I couldn't shake it. I was so pissed that all that running around and time wasting was for nothing-- for what? A shitty website that wasn't even CLOSE to being right?? Intensifying my pistoffness was the fact that it was 2:00 p.m. by the time we located Stubb's and I'd had nothing to eat all day. Tim ate some leftover pizza this morning, so he at least wasn't starving.

When we found Stubb's, I thought maybe we could have lunch there. Why not? It's a barbecue joint, right? Well, at the door we were informed that there was some event taking place and we weren't welcome there. So we started walking. We ended up at a place called The Boiling Pot, a place that serves seafood by the pound. We were tired, hungry, frustrated, and hot, so we decided to give it a try even though it's not what we wanted. Tim is severely allergic to seafood, but he said he'd find something on the menu. Most places have a hamburger or something. Not this place, so Tim ordered two links of boudin sausage. I had a cup of gumbo, which was hotter than hot. I can deal with hot foods as long as I have something cold to drink, but the Diet Coke the girl brought me was 90% ice, 10% Coke, and she didn't believe in keeping the glass filled. I kept waving her down for refills, and when we got the check we were astonished to find that we'd been charged for every refill! As a result, our bill was $25 for two links of boudin and a cup of crappy gumbo. I'm sure most people who go there drink beer and don't have the problem of paying $2 for every 1/10 of a cup of Diet Coke they drink.

The moral of the story? Don't go to The Boiling Pot in Austin, TX because they suck the dong. And don't use Mapquest because IT'S THE DEVIL.

It's 9:45 p.m., Tim is at his show, and I'm in the hotel room enjoying some alone time. Charlie is apparently giving my mom a good workout at home. I miss him, and I'm ready to go back home. Unfortunately, there are 11 hours worth of highway between us and Petal, MS. It's sad, but so far the drive here has been the most enjoyable part of the trip. We're hoping to squeeze in some fun before leaving tomorrow.

Roooooad Triiiiiip!

For over a month, Tim's been planning to go see Motorhead in Austin, TX. His buddy was possibly going to go with him, but couldn't, and Tim was talking about going alone. That would probably suck for both of us. Sometimes he gets a bit...tense. I could just see him driving around Austin alone, getting lost, cussing to himself in the car, being pissed when he finally reaches his destination and having a miserable time. So I'm going with him. That way when he gets tense and starts cussing, I too can get tense and start cussing. Maybe we can even cuss at each other. It'll be like a second honeymoon! My mom got here today, and she's going to stay with Charlie until we get back.

I have no desire to see Motorhead, so I'll be doing something else while he's at the show. "Something else" will probably be sitting in the hotel room playing on the computer since we have only one vehicle. I don't think our hotel is close enough to walk to anything, but it's possible. Nonetheless, it's a road trip and will be a much needed break if we don't spend the whole time worrying about Charlie and feeling guilty for leaving him.

Hey, Hillbilly Mom...

...it could've been worse!

ST. LOUIS — A southern Illinois woman died after being severely burned in a flash fire while undergoing surgery, a rare but vexing dilemma in operating rooms. Janice McCall, 65, of Energy, Ill., died Sept. 8 at Vanderbilt University Medical Center in Nashville, Tenn., six days after being burned on the operating table at Heartland Regional Medical Center in Marion, Ill., her family's attorney said.

DeadpanAnn, Writer Extraordinaire

Several months ago, I met a lady from Illinois who had just started her own marketing company and publishes a health magazine. She had worked on this same magazine while living in Illinois, but was starting a similar one that would focus on the medical resources in South Mississippi. As soon as she mentioned that she was publishing a magazine, I told her I would be happy to help her if she ever needed a writer. A week later she brought me copies of the Illinois version of the magazine, and told me to review them and get back with her if I was seriously interested in writing. Next thing I knew, I was officially her staff writer, and I started getting nervous. She still hadn't seen anything I'd written, and it's been a while since I've written anything other than this blog, which has made me an extremely lazy writer. I find myself having to really think about things that used to come easily. Yesterday I met with her to get some stuff together for the first issue, and I feel much better about it. I started feeling normal again after about half an hour of working, and realized that it's not going to take long to get my groove back. Now I'm getting PUMPED!

I'm not making any money for this at the moment, but there's the potential for that later. My hope is that it will open the door for more freelance writing opportunities-- ones that pay. The worst case scenario is that I don't make a dime at this but get to freshen up my writing skills. That alone will make it worthwhile. It deeply disturbs me to think that I could "forget" how to do the one thing I've always taken pride in being good at, and that's what I've felt has been happening over the last few years as I've read page after page of mind-numbingly BAD writing, courtesy of my 8th graders. When I was searching my computer's hard drive for writing samples to send this person, the only things I could find were an academic paper on the history of education, a bunch of personal background essays that I'd written for teaching applications, and things like letters to parents, memos, cover-your-ass documents, etc. It dawned on me that I haven't written anything even semi-serious in at least 3 years, maybe longer.

I'll post a link to the magazine's website soon. I don't want to link to their site or have anyone searching their name land here-- at least until the first issue of the South Mississippi version is out and I've officially written something for them.

Alice.com

A few days ago, the Diva alerted me to a website, Alice.com, where I could buy household products for super cheap. I checked it out, and was impressed to find that they ship every order for free. Some of the prices looked good, too, so I decided to give it a shot. Anything to save a few pennies while giving Wal Mart the finger, right?

My first order included:

12 rolls of Charmin ("big" rolls)
2 bottles of Lysol toilet cleaner
a book of 20 stamps
a bottle of Pantene shampoo
a box of Cascade dishwashing detergent
a tube of Colgate toothpaste

The order was delivered via UPS about 48 hours later. Impressive!

Yesterday I went to the devil's playground, and I had my invoice from Alice.com with me so that I could compare prices. It turned out that on the few items that I bought, I didn't save as much money as I hoped. I saved about a quarter on the Colgate, but only because Alice.com automatically applied a coupon. Their list price is higher than the local Wal Mart. The same was true of the shampoo-- the coupon saved me about a dime.

My location probably has something to do with the fact that the prices at the local Wal Mart are similar to the Alice.com prices. Things are cheaper in different parts of the country. I could never afford to live in San Francisco or Chicago on the income we make here, but you don't have to go as far as California or Illinois to see a major difference in what things cost. A 12-pack of Coke products costs over $5.00 in Yazoo City, MS, and about $3.50 in Hattiesburg, MS, yet the two towns are only about 100 miles apart. When I moved from the Memphis area to South Mississippi, I was pleasantly surprised to find that a six pack of beer was about a dollar cheaper down here than up there. The same may be true of Mississippi versus Oklahoma, or Missouri, or whatever hillbilly haven you call home.

I didn't have time to go compare the prices on every item I purchased, but I think most of them are about the same. I'm planning to check next time I go to the playground; I'm withholding judgment until then, but my current opinion is that you can save money at Alice.com if you're careful. There are deals to be had. For instance, you can't beat .58 for a stick of deodorant, and that's what it costs there right now. Choose your items wisely, look for items with coupons, and know what they cost elsewhere. Also be aware of the difference in sales tax. In Mississippi, it's 7%. Alice.com charged me 4.86%.

It's nice to have things like toilet paper and stamps dropped off at my front door for no charge, and even nicer to know that I didn't get them from the devil's playground. I'm willing to pay an extra quarter for that as long as I can pick up the occasional cheap stick of deodorant, so I'll definitely be placing another order with Alice.

Being sick is for the pigs

Charlie has been sick since Monday. It started out as a very tame illness-- runny nose, slight fever, etc. It gradually got worse, and yesterday he slept the entire day, and his temp has been up close to 102. I called the doctor Thursday, but they told me to just monitor him and call back Friday. Then I was going to take him to the doctor Friday, but they were booked and told me to call back today. I called back this morning, and they told me they were booked and that I should've called earlier.

Considering that this was the third time I'd called and been told to call later, I was not a happy camper when she told me I should've called earlier, and I told her so. I explained that I had been trying to get him seen for a couple of days, and every day I had been told to call back the next day. She told me I should've called at 7:00 this morning because they start seeing patients at 8 on Saturdays, but start making appointments at 7, and they always book up within 15 minutes. I expressed my disgust at the fact that nobody bothered to tell me that YESTERDAY or even THE DAY BEFORE.

After I hung up that time, I went to their website to find out whether they are open on Sundays. They are, so I called back. THEN she told me the next after hours shift is 4 p.m. to 8 p.m. tonight--- another nugget of information that would've been good to know earlier.

Every time I call the clinic, whether it's to get an appointment or speak with a nurse, I'm given the least amount of information they can get by with. It's like they think it costs them money to open their mouths and say a few extra words to give me the answer they know I'm looking for. If I call for an appointment on Saturday but it's booked, why would they not bother to explain that there's a second shift later today and that I can get him seen then. Why not just tell me that? Do they get paid extra for turning away patients? Are they so overwhelmed that they want to send people elsewhere? Or are they just a bunch of bitter old ladies who enjoy letting people know how much it bothers them when people expect them to do their jobs?

If I understand it correctly, if I call right at four o'clock I MIGHT be able to get him seen tonight. That is unless the lady forgot to tell me something important, like that there's a special phone number I need to call. So help me God, if I call back this afternoon and they tell me I was supposed to follow some other procedure and they can't schedule Charlie, I'm going up there and my child WILL be seen.

About an hour after I hung up with the clinic for the last time, Charlie woke up. He seems to be perfectly fine now. I didn't take his temp again, but his forehead and tummy don't feel burning hot for the first time in 5 days, and he seems happier. I hope he's truly on the tail end of this, and not just feeling better temporarily because of the Tylenol I gave him earlier. It should've been out of his system by now, and he still seems okay, so I'm optimistic. I'm not going to bother calling the clinic at 3:55 unless his temp goes back up again.

I don't want to take him in that place if I can help it. With our luck, we'd probably catch the swine flu in the waiting room and come home sicker than we already are.

In Memory of the Things I Forgot

Maybe it's the fact that I rarely sleep longer than a few hours uninterrupted, or perhaps I've just been drinking Diet Coke out of aluminum cans for too many years now, but lately I've been very forgetful.

Let me tell you the things I've forgotten here lately, if I can remember them all.

I had an appointment with the GI doctor last Tuesday. This was just a return visit to see how the medicine I'm on is working on my IBS, and I was supposed to get another rx for it. I couldn't get an appointment on a day that Charlie would be in preschool, so I was dreading the visit for several weeks leading up to the day. One would think that all that dread might help me remember it. I set my calendar on my cell phone up so that it would beep at me a few hours before the appointment, which it did. And when it did, I stared at it, completely befuddled as to why my phone was beeping at me. Once I saw the little calendar icon, I knew that it was trying to remind me of something, but I couldn't recall what in the world it could possibly be. I assumed I'd accidentally programmed it to do that, turned it off, and stuck it back in my pocket. The doctor's office was kind enough to send me a letter a few days later informing me that I had missed my appointment, and asking me to call and reschedule. I've been meaning to do that, but...well, you know.

I can't believe the phone was reminding me of it, and I still forgot. There's no option to type in a description of the event on the calendar, and when it popped up I couldn't remember what the reminder was for.

That Saturday, Tim and Charlie had an 11:00 appointment with the uber-expensive photographer. Early that week, I mentioned to Tim that we needed to make sure that he and Charlie both had something suitable to wear for the photos, and kept telling myself that I needed to go through Charlie's closet and be certain that I had what I needed. Well, I never did that, nor did I make sure Tim had the solid blue, long-sleeved shirt that he needed. I never did either of those things because I completely forgot about the appointment. Completely. Forgot. The assistant, Valerie, called me at 11:30-ish wondering where we were. I apologized, and she was very nice about it. She rescheduled us for that Saturday. We made it that time.

Well, a few days after the pics were taken, she called me to say that the pictures were ready for me to look at and make my order. After naming off several good times for me, none of which were good for her, I made an appointment for 2:00 last Thursday. There were no times available while he was at preschool, so I would just have to take Charlie with me. That day I went to pick him up from school at 1:00-- not 1:30, thanks to some selfish mommas-- and on the way there-- people, I'm telling you, ON THE WAY THERE I was thinking about how I had to go to the photographer's house and look at those pictures after picking him up. And I proceeded to put him in the car, drive home, put him to bed, and fall asleep myself. How the hell do you think about something an hour before you're supposed to do it, and somehow still forget it??

I need to call her and reschedule, but I am so ashamed. She must think I am the biggest slacker on the planet.

There have been other brain farts recently, but those are the most notable ones. Today I was on the other end of town at 5:30, and I knew I needed to get something for dinner since I wouldn't have time to cook a meal before Tim got home from work. Unfortunately, I didn't remember that fact until I'd made it all the way back home, and I had to go back to Hattiesburg again in 5:30 traffic-- with a sick Charlie in the back.

I think I need a personal assistant, like those snobby celebrities. If the drug addicted train wreck that is Corey Haim can have one, why can't I?

Jig

I'm addicted to these online jigsaw puzzles.

http://www.jigzone.com/

Sick Monkey

This morning Charlie woke up with a temp of 101 and some green nose pudding on his face. Poor thing. I also woke up with a sore throat, but no nose pudding or fever. He's had a runny nose since Friday, but it just now started looking infected. His first day back to preschool was Thursday, so it only took 3 1/2 hours of being in that church nursery for him to pick up a bug.

I want to like the preschool. I'm trying to like the preschool. I can't tell you one good reason not to like them, other than the Hair Puller thing, which isn't even their fault and would be an easy problem to find at any preschool or daycare in town. Maybe it's just the fact that I know nobody else is going to take care of my baby the same way I will. I love having time away from Charlie twice a week, but I hate the thought of him chewing on other kids' toys and picking things up and slobbering on them, especially now with the swine flu floating around. Last year he constantly had a cold. As soon as school was out, he got over it. Now he's sick again after only one day. I don't really like the two ladies who work in the baby room; I get the feeling they are hiding things from me. Maybe because they didn't tell me about Hair Puller until I asked. When I picked him up Thursday, they said he had a "fair" day, and that he still doesn't want to be around other kids. I didn't get a chance to ask about Hair Puller.

Argh. I'm going to take some Tylenol and go back to bed. This being awake stuff is for the birds.

Bathroom painting, selfish mommas, & carpet pissers

The bathroom project is moving quicker now. In the time that it's taken me to pull down a small room of wallpaper, Redneck Diva has replaced a shower, built a big bay window, and painted several rooms, among many other productive things. In my defense, I have only been able to work for about 30 minutes at a time while Charlie was napping, and I didn't have a family of Amish guys on Mountain Dew. And I'm lazy. There's always that.

Charlie was at preschool for a few hours yesterday, during which time I got a lot done. (The internet and cable were both out, which helped.) The wallpaper is now all down except for behind the toilet (ewww!) and behind and above the light fixture. I'll deal with that after I wipe all the glue off the walls. I've already got half of the biggest wall scrubbed free of glue residue, and it was a chore. I'm ready to get to the bare walls so I can fix the drywall and finally start priming and painting. Picking out paint is the fun part. I'm also replacing the ridiculous light fixture, and I think I'm replacing the giant mirror, too. Someone suggested two smaller mirrors instead of the one huge one. Maybe two square mirrors or medicine cabinets below two smaller light fixtures. I don't know. That's just what was suggested. I guess the big mirror is sorta dated. Share your opinion, if'n you have one. The vanity is a double sink with brown cabinets. I'm not painting it, and I'm not replacing it right now. That's not in the budget. I'm just trying to get this place fit to sell. Whoever buys it can update the vanity if they want. Here it is before I started ripping down wallpaper. Boy am I glad those angels have finally fallen.



Speaking of Charlie going back to preschool, can you believe those fart sniffers had the nerve to slice a full 30 minutes off the day and not tell me until I dropped him off? They're asking that kids be picked up at 1:00 now instead of 1:30. The price hasn't changed, and they didn't mention this before I paid the non-refundable deposit, registration fee, supply fee, and tuition. Nothing was said until the minute I was in the doorway with Charlie in tow. That irritated me, to say the least. The four hours was already barely enough, considering that it's only about 3 hours and 15 minutes for me by the time I travel to and from. I asked why they decided to cut back thirty minutes, and she said, "Because last year we weren't getting out of here before 2:00, and we never got paid for it."

Well then tell people to come get their kids on time!

I never picked my child up late, but now I have to lose 30 minutes of paid-for child care to prevent other people from taking 30 minutes of not-paid-for childcare? It seems like they're doing the "tell them to be here at 1 so they'll be here before 1:30" strategy, so I don't know whether to show up at 1:00, or just keep showing up at 1:30. The bright yellow sheet they gave me said, "No later than 1:00" in bold, underlined, 900 point font, so I was there at 12:50. Thank you, lazy ass parents. I can't imagine what kind of slacker ass attitude one must have to think it's appropriate to show up 30 minutes late to pick up your child. I was there early almost every single day last year. As I was leaving yesterday, I noticed that the mother of the child who likes to pull Charlie's hair was just parking her giant SUV to pick up her gaggle of children, and it was after 1:00. When I saw her, it dawned on me that she almost always pulls into the parking lot as I'm leaving, and sometimes I pass her on the road heading towards the church as I'm leaving. It was that way all year last year. And she has 3 or 4 kids to pick up, so I'm sure she doesn't even get to the baby room for her little hair puller until a good 10 or 15 minutes after she arrives. Go figure.

Charlie has a runny nose already. It only took one day.

This morning he woke up at 7:45 and started jabbering. I cut off the monitor, and snoozed for another 10 minutes. When I went in there, he had pulled his diaper off, and was standing up in the bed, directly in front of a wet spot in the carpet about 4 feet from the crib. Perhaps he has taken a clue from his bed buddy, Pookie, who also likes to express his anger by pissing on things.

Oh well. It's about time to rent a carpet cleaner anyway.