Simple Is As Simple Does, NOT!

So, let's see.  In my last post, I was to step 10 of the 3 steps in shipping a vehicle.  The simple steps are:


1. Hire a company;
2. Pay them;
3. Have vehicle delivered.


Hell, that's 2 steps: 1. Hire/pay a company; 2. Have vehicle delivered/pay remainder.


I was at: 10. Start contacting other companies . . . to be continued . . .

I forgot step 9.5 - Joyce doesn't contact me for two weeks so I tell her if they can't get a driver to take my vehicle, I am going to contact a transportation company, not a broker, so I can get the vehicle shipped.

Step 9.75: I get an email within a day from the brokerage (not a peep from Joyce) telling me my car will be picked up the next day.  For $250 more than Joyce had told me. I just have to sign the form and fax it back.

Disbelief.

Step. 9.9: Call and email Joyce and the brokerage that not only am I NOT signing the form; I'm reporting them to MasterCard - and I want my $150 "deposit" back (which turns out not to be a deposit but the brokerage's fee).

Step 9.99: Joyce replies quickly to tell me "there's no reason to contact MasterCard. We will refund your money right away."  She tells me this twice in a panicked voice.

Now back to Step 10 and forward.

Step 11: Listen to the pitches from another 10 companies.
Step 12: Reply to Frank. Listen to his excited fast-paced pitch.  Tell him I've had a bad experience and ask if they own their trucks - are they a transportation company, not a brokerage?  Frank says they own their trucks.
Step 13: Agree on a price ($1,000 which ironically is the price the other company had tried to jack me up to.  However, the market has changed and this is now about the going rate.) Explain I have to arrange for someone to be in MI for pick up & I have limited time to be in LA for delivery due to required travel.  Frank says not a problem, will pick up vehicle by Friday so it is delivered before I leave, or wait so it is delivered after I come home.

Next Steps - "Frank Fucks Up"

Simple, My Life It Is Not

Channeling a little Yoda there.  I wasn't sure whether to note this under "Damn IT's LA" blog or here.  I decide here because I don't think it specific to LA. Read on, I think you'll see what I mean.

I am unable to get anything of note in my personal life accomplished in a straightforward manner.  Let's start with sending my vehicle from MI to CA, a task 1,000s of other people do every month.  Let's number the steps, shall we?

July
1. Discussion with HR contact at new employer who recommends a company that moved someone's daughter. Get contact info.
2. Contact 1st vehicle shipping co. (let's call him Frank b/c that was his name).  Frank quotes vehicle for $1400 to ship as part of moving household goods.
3. Ask Frank if that is his best price as it seems really high. Frank replies they don't move vehicles as a business, just as part of household moves.
4. Since Frank's household moving quote seems really high as well, decide to shop around and somehow (I've blocked it out of my memory like some sort of PTSD), fill out a form on some website that I want quotes from companies that do this as their main biz.
5. Receive approx. 20 different emails, each one saying other companies will lie and cheat, but this one is honest - big deal made of "5 star" rating (more on this later)
6. Had listed my phone number (EPIC MISTAKE) - as emails flood in, calls start.  Weirdly, they are all from FL. Apparently FL is the world capital of shipping cars. Or low budget call centers & sketchy telemarketers.
7. Get email and a call from "Joyce" and figure she can't be any worse than the rest.  Return her call.
8. Joyce is going to do the consultative sell.  Asks me if I'm familiar with the process, (no), and explains in great detail about everyone using the "board" and blah, blah, blah, do I want to see a screenshot of it? I'm an info. junkie and have never heard of the "board" before so, yeah, Joyce, hook me up.
9. Get back to work while email offers pour in like Nigerian Internet scams (they should be combined: "Bless You! I am an orphan shipping cars across this blessed land because I cannot get my deceased Uncle's Swiss francs from the bank account.")
10. Start contacting other companies . . . to be continued . . .

"With Autumn Closin' In"

A little theme music as I was struck by an oddity today, http://youtu.be/mbv-LcdLY-Y

Around this time last year, I was planning on picking apples for the 1st time with my then BF and his kids.  I thought I'd marry this guy & spend my Autumns with him.

And I really liked picking apples!

Fast forward, I'm now in LA, driving down the highway, a Midwest Autumn becoming a memory - BF is exBF and there's not an apple tree in sight or in my future.

So, funny how the night (or your life) moves.  With Autumn closin' in . . .

http://youtu.be/_mRFWQoXq4c

Guys, Skip Reading This Post

Ok, just females left, right?  I've been traveling extensively in the last 2 months and I cannot believe how heavy & wrecked my purse has become (last guy still reading that was PURSE, you still have time to stop).  Since I need to clean it out anyway, a purse inventory:

Damn, It's Heavy! Purse Inventory
checkbook
wallet
quarter coin purse
2 flyers for Hertz Rent a Car
cellphone
boarding passes and holder
notepad
teabag
envelope with receipts
my business cards
other people's business cards
cellphone earpiece
passport
3 pairs of gold earrings
7 key rings with multiple keys (TSA couldn't believe this one and had my purse emptied out LOL)
2 lipsticks
1 pair earphones
hotel receipt in envelope
eyeglass case/eyeglasses
garage door opener
USB cable in unopened plastic bag
dollar bill floating around
2 small Altoids tins
1 lip brush
1 Burt's Bees lip balm
8 pens (!)
pill case
Best Buy rewards card
3 hair elastics
90 coins in the bottom of purse = $7.89
22 bits of paper - receipts, lottery ticket, notes, Chinese fortune ("A job well done is half begun" - not very Chinese proverb sounding, is it?)

I think this is a record for a non-tote-style purse.

LA LA LA LA LA

Ok, moving to LA.  And it really is a different world.  So, I started a new blog "Damn It's LA" for chronicling the experience.  Come along if you dare.

Best Garage Sale - Evah!

It was a dark and stormy night. Nah, it was a weekend garage sale - where you find yourself haggling over a $1 difference for some trivial piece of crap. (And feel victorious if you get your way.) Saturday is 88 degrees and we are sitting in plastic stacking chairs, slowly sweating our lives out. 

Enter the magical Phillip.

Beers appear; laughter appears; a whisky & coke fer mommy. The hot neighbor, wearing a black t-shirt so tight we can see HIS nipples comes over and, though refusing our beer, drinks his coffee (refusing our offer of Bailey's for it) and shows no sign of wanting to leave. (His wife has just taken off for the weekend.)

Phillip is "supposed" to leave at noonish. This does not happen - he gives up looking at his watch by mid afternoon.

Phillip and mommy start explaining to sober people who show up the long histories of the p.o.s. (piece of shit, dear reader) they might be glancing at.  In great detail. And completely made up.

And then they start telling people how these items will improve their lives; that they "need" them. They also start offering people beer.

Phillip and mommy are banned from talking to the customers.

The beering continues. Mommy gets a "freshen up" whisky & coke; we make our way through Oberon; Sleeman; Moosehead; and into Canadian. Hotness neighbor wanders back home but comes back for another extended stay. He brings gin & tonic over for all.  I ponder keeping him at our sale as a prop - most customers are female & my neighborhood is also chock full o' gay men.  Can't go wrong!

But eventually his neighborly hotness must go home as he has company coming over. He's served his purpose anyway: prop; purchaser (he bought $20 of stuff -including an exBF's Xmas gift - SWEET!); and visual entertainment.

Phillip picks up on the exBF theme - "just how many items here are from exes?" he asks. My survey of the table reveals three exBFs are represented.  Including one I broke up with over 20 years ago!

And this is how the afternoon plays out.  If we aren't making fun of the people buying my crap we are making fun of each other.  So much so that while the sale ended at 4; we are still sitting around after 5.

We end the afternoon on a high - the last customer who wanders into our mirth with his too small camo cap can't tell us what he did in the Army before he retired (can they ever?) but as we get through military secret discussions into bizarreness, voluntarily displays the CCW pistol on his hip. A sober me might have wondered if he meant to rob us.  Ah, but a drunk me is a thing of innocence and unicorns.  So instead, I ask him the caliber and where/how often he goes for target practice.

And all ends well.

Humanity Test - We Passed!

For some/no reason, people are feeling gracious today. I have a broken gas tank cover - the plastic panel that closes over the actual gas cap. Three people nicely pointed out it was open - one car behind me honked & honked.  Then the female driver told me - I said thank you! (I didn't tell her the part isn't made now and the dealership wanted over $450 to fix it - how much does one explain when the light is about to turn green?)  The passenger in that vehicle actually got out and came up & shut the cover for me.

:) People are cool today!

Say Grace

Get a beer, this one is deep.

I sometimes get caught up in me.  That is, the very simple, uncomplicated aspects of my life expand in relevance to me until they appear to be far more complicated and consuming than they are.

And then, often, I am humbled.  I call these moments of grace.  Take whatever definition of it you want, though I favor non-religious ones: Definitions of Grace

In essence,  my moments of grace are revelations by others that have a way of making my looming, sometimes overshadowing, issues shrink - sometimes even whither, like vampires exposed to light.

This week, I received an email from a young lawyer, Brian, who I supervised at my former job.  When he worked on my team, he came to me to explain his girlfriend had some developing medical issues, would be having a battery of tests, and he asked for time off in the upcoming months. He said he couldn't quit - he needed the job (aka, the money).  I told him that I would grant everything I could given the size of the team and the nature of the project.

When it turned out his girlfriend was diagnosed with MS, I shared that my sister had had MS for about 20 years and offered her as a connection.  He said they appreciated that and would call on me/my sister as needed.

It has been almost six months since I left my former company.  I did not stay in touch with Brian.  So, when I got his email this week, it stopped my spin for a bit.  As I read his update, I was humbled  - this time by the brave attack this young couple was making against MS when getting jobs, careers, figuring out a relationship path, and just making plans for fun would already consume most people. 

A moment of grace.

Then, in case my worries dared to creep back; I got news yesterday that a friend of mine was diagnosed with a large malignant tumor.  He is young, married, and full of life. And faces such a horrifying challenge that I cannot even take my new job and its required move in the same too-serious way I felt for the last month.  Who really cares about stuff you accumulated or jobs when someone battles for their life?  (If he reads my blog, my positive thoughts are with you.) As for the rest of us . . .

A moment of grace. 

Enough

How does one know when enough is enough? One has to have had too much, and too little (to compare), too many times.  Contemplate that one.

Oh, and feed the fish - just click in the square.

Some Things are Too Funny Not to Repost

From the "stranger than fiction" file (with my highlighting).
Cops: Troy man fires gun after finding another man in bed with wife

5:44 PM, Jun. 9, 2011  

DETROIT FREE PRESS STAFF

A Troy man is accused of firing a gunshot at a man he found in bed with his wife early Wednesday, after the woman met the stranger on a late-night bike ride, police said.

Troy police say the 30-year-old mother of five children, ages 1-14, went for a bike ride at 4 a.m. Wednesday. She met a 30-year-old man walking down the street and invited the man back to her house for sex, reports said.
The man agreed, and they fell asleep afterward, police said. The husband returned at 5 a.m. and discovered the stranger in his bed, according to reports.
A confrontation ensued, and the husband retrieved his .45-caliber handgun, reports said. The stranger ran from the home in his underwear, leaving his cell phone, wallet and identification behind.
The husband chased him as he ran, firing one shot in the process, police said. The bullet struck the kitchen wall and ended up in a cupboard.
The other man escaped, but police later located and questioned him, reports said. The investigation is continuing.

Ed. Note: I have a feeling this was "pay back time." I think the wife didn't like hubby's late night antics so decided to turn the tables on him.

Would You Like to BOF?

Credit 1st to my friend Yvette as this was her tale last night.  I just found it so funny I'm sharing it with a wider audience.
Yvette has been going to a conference in which they are using a networking idea called "Birds of a Feather." Attendees list their interests and are grouped together at meals/breaks so that those with similar interests have an icebreaker for conversation.
Good idea so far.
The attractive female organizer of "Birds of a Feather" is very enamoured of the concept.  So much so that she uses acronyms and is assuming everyone is as enmeshed in the program as she is.  Now, the spelling may be missing an "F" but when spoken by an attractive female over the speakers, there can be a more amusing interpretation to  her suggestions:

"Let's all BOF!"
"Does anyone want to BOF?"
"We will be BOFing at the end of the day today!"

A Fitting End for Mr. Edisons

Way back yonder (ok, Jan. 2010) I wrote about how my now former boss was so enamored of the little Thomas Edison busts he used to give out in management meetings that he was shocked that an employee didn't take her statues when she left the company, even though he had fired her!

I wrote then that I thought best to keep my 6 "Eddies" displayed proudly in my office even though the company no longer gave them out and few people knew what they were for (umm, can you say turnover?).

After I left the dysfunctional place earlier this year, I had those damn heads sitting on my dining room table as I decided a just fate.

Sell them? Nah, too much effort.
Trash? No, they needed a punishment to suit the crime.
Shoot them? Why, yes.

While I originally thought I'd bring them to a range and blast their little plaster faces away; another, perhaps more fitting end presented itself.  They are now part of an outdoor paintball shooting range! Yes, rotting away while facing daily assault. 

Rather fitting.

Pics to come if I get back out there to capture the indignity of it all.

How Mickey Shorr Lost my Business

It's simple. I need a new car radio, Mickey Shorr is 5 minutes away. Their website shows lots of radios - any will meet my needs.

That is until I see this:

Now, I'm no prude as anyone will tell you. But I've got to ask, wasn't one bimbo enough? I don't think you can see it in my post as the picture appears cut off - there is a second bimbo bending over the railing with her ass in the air (and a guy drooling), and a third with her ass cheek display. It was too much for me.  Obviously, "Mickey Shorr" is a pig.  And not where I'm buying ANYTHING. Well, unless you start having cartoon guys who are buff and almost naked, and in gratuitous displays.

To paraphrase some lyrics:

"Oh Mickey Shorr, you're so sad; your crass cartoon is a horrible ad."

Plane Old Boredom Games

I was going through old notes and found these I took on a flight some time ago.  Since I've been told by some my blogging tend to be too analytical/morose/melancholy, enjoy.

Games for the Severely Bored Flyer

1. "Oh the Obesity!" When you go to put your seat belt on, was the person who last used it thinner or fatter than you?

2. "I'm the Asshole" Fill out the magazine crossword puzzles with wrong answers or random letters. Or, write comments on articles in the margins (make sure you don't write anything that will result in your arrest!)

3. "Bye Bye Now" Before the flight attendant has a chance to say "bye bye," beat her/him to it. Extra points for creative phrases such as:

• "Have a good one!'
• "God bless you!"
• "Thanks for the memories"

I'd Hate to Work at Epsilon Right Now

So today, two messages (Walgreens & Marriott) that my email address was in with the Epilson "unauthorized access" incident.

Okayyyy, then both messages then told me "nothing personal" was linked to those email addresses.

Okayyyy,  but what galls me is that then both companies give me a primer on how I should guard against fraudulent messages regardless of who sent them.  I find this offensive. They are telling me that the company entrusted to keep my email address safe FAILED and they want to instruct ME on email?? Given that both companies sell things, how about a "We're sorry - here's a sweet discount coupon." Or something.

The Love Boat is Sinking - To the Life Rafts!

A friend responded to my blog on the use of "I love you" and made some rather good points. But, to me, the best was this one:

 "In the end it is the decision to love someone that drives me.  Feelings and hormones may come and go; however, that decision is persistent and eternal.  It may not sound romantic; however, not all of us are hardwired to be romantic."

". . . (T)he decision to love someone . . ."  That's really it, isn't it?  So many people blurt out an initial, "I love you" in a moment of emotion.  So few make a conscious decision to love someone and keep loving them. We behave as if love is an overriding force outside of our control - we fall in and out of love.  Perhaps if we accept that the romantic emotion of "love" comes and goes, and instead focused on the decision to love someone (faults and all) and to keep loving that person, we'd be more content.

Just a few thoughts to ponder . . .


Epilogue/Addendum  4/23/2011

I finished a novel last night and one passage seemed eerily familiar to the blog above. (I found the novel rather boring and cliched - full of brand name dropping - one more mention of Viking stoves and I would have assumed the author was being paid by them.) So, emily giffin (her spelling) wrote:

"But maybe that's what it all comes down to. Love, not as a surge of passion, but as a choice to commit to something, someone, no matter what obstacles or temptations stand in the way. and maybe making that choice, again and again, day in and day out, year after year, says more about love than never having a choice to make at all."

Still pondering life . . . damn it.

The Love Boat is Sinking

Ok, when I worked for my last company, every 12 months, they'd introduce some emotionally-tied, grand idea that would supposedly change our lives.  They'd introduce it at a company meeting with great fanfare: videos/audio/presentations/PowerPoint. Sometimes, they'd make us, get this, do book reports on the new theory. And, just as horrid, present or discuss how the new theory could be put to use in our professional or personal lives. We went through 212 Degrees, Getting Things Done, the Randy Pausch video/book, and many more. I left before the most recent African-inspired team building - there wasn't a team left.

What does this have to do with love?

When the company would introduce these grand plans, I believed them or made myself believe them. I was a company cheerleader but took it to heart too. I was of the: LET'S DO THIS! reaction. But, over time, I was troubled by the careless discarding of what we were once told to embrace. And what I did embrace.  The old theories were barely mentioned after being introduced and never appeared again.

What does this have to do with love?

When a man has told me he loves me, I've believed him.  When I embrace the concept (if you will), I say it back.  When we split up, I have the same reaction as my company discarding emo-organizational motivational pulp: If it meant something deep to you, how can you so easily move on?  This happens even when I've done the breaking up.  A little piece of me goes with any "I love you" level of relationship because I really believed it.

I think, fundamentally, most men and women think differently about love and the "I love you" phrase.  Some of my friends have opined that for men, "I love you" means "I like having you around," or, "I like the way I feel when I'm around you." I think, for women, it is something deeper.  We are supposedly more emotional after all.  To point, two friends of mine are dating.  He tells her he loves her constantly but she won't say it back.  He told me he doesn't understand why she won't say it.  She told me "I love you" means something deeper to her so she doesn't just want to throw it out there.  I think she's got the right idea.

So guys, think before you use the magic phrase. And me? Don't be confused if I don't say it back or if I ask you to explain what it means to you. 

That is, if I ever date again.