Showing posts from November, 2012

Account Services Anne Is Stalking Me

Every day, and I mean every day, "Anne from Account Services" calls my cell phone and home phone telling me that this is the final offer for me to lower my credit card rates. Some days I hang up. Some days I press 1 for an account representative and I talk gibberish. One day I pressed 1, placed the phone in the desk drawer and repeatedly opened and shut it hoping they would get the message. I have asked them to stop. They call me while I am at work, they call me while I am home. Today they called me on my cell phone at 2:00pm and on my home phone at 2:03pm. And then they called me back at 4:30pm. During the last call I pressed 1 and when the account representative came on the line I asked "Whatcha wearing hot stuff?". To which she replied "Ohhhhh whacha you wearing?" which only served to piss me off even more. I got scared as she sounded like she may have been calling me from a maximum security prison (I will not be your bitch Anne!).  I put the phon

Hit Me With Your Best Conversation

Holy  REO   Speedwagon  Batman, it time for me to fly to my class reunion again. The following is an excerpt from a blog post I wrote back in 2007, slightly revised. Here goes my practice run: "Hey  CJ , I have five boys. What about you, any kids?" "No, I hate kids. You can't legally crate them like you can dogs.  Ughhh , what I meant to say was I just plain forgot to have them. That's why I look so much younger than you.  Ummm , no really, I love kids. It's just that I have awesome great nieces and nephews and I can play with them when ever I want and then I can return them. ( CJ  thinking - I'm in really deep you know what now). Hey, that's a great dress you're wearing. Husband? Oh no. None worthy. Actually I like girls. Yeah, it was a shock to me too. ( CJ  thinking again - Oh &^%$*, why did I bother coming here). Springfield College. No, I didn't major in PE. Correct, I said I had dogs, not cats. Why yes, this is the same hair sty

Irene's Cups Runneth Over

In case you are a first time visitor or perhaps have forgotten, Irene, my 87 year old mother, resides in a nursing home. And she is not very happy. On one of my recent visits the issue of the day was her bra. It was the kind with the underwire, something I myself find only slightly more comfortable than having a root canal. Apparently, even though Irene says she hates the food at the nursing home, she has somehow manage to gain about 30 pounds since living there, making said bra a little bit snug. I helped her remove the offending undergarment to offer some relief. This of course led to issue #2. "What will I wear when I go out to the TV room tomorrow? I can't wear that bra. It is too uncomfortable." I changed the conversation -  which somehow quickly switched back to "What will I wear when I go out to the TV room tomorrow? I can't wear that bra. It is too uncomfortable." So like any good daughter, I took off my bra, right then and there. I remove