Changes

I don't know why, but today just feels like a day to post a new blog, perhaps because I am pissed as hell at the phone company. They introduced a new phone plan -- 250 minutes for $20 for overseas calls. Whoo hoo -- I was excited. I could call my husband who is in Iraq and talk for a full 4 1/2 hours per month for only $20. About time someone thought about those serving overseas and their loved ones back home, instead of sucking our blood to the tune of .64/minute. After waiting a full 48 hours to get the service in place, I tried to use it this morning.

"The country code you are trying to call is not on the plan." What do you mean, "not on the plan?" Bullshit! I pulled up the website, looked up the country codes -- there it was, big as life...9-6-4! I called the phone company. Now that is an irritating experience in and of itself. Not only are you listening to the plethora of options that are available, but you actually have to choose, several times. I hate all this automation. After about 10 minutes, I get a real, live person. After telling them my name, address, last four digits of social and my problem, they transfer me. Only to have to tell the same thing over to the next dimwit on the line. I'm told this time that I need to be transferred yet again, only this time they cut me off! Are you feeling my pain yet????

So, again, I call. Go through the prompts. When I get a real live person, I explain that this is the 3rd time that I have gone through this rigamarole. I suspect they sense my pissed -ness. She apologized before asking me all my information again. Is there no God????!!

She looks up all my info and assures me that I have just made a dialing error. Thank goodness for small favors. I thank her and hang up. I decided to try the new way of dialing. However, the prompts on the phone tell me to dial the way I WAS dialing. So, I do it, highly suspicious of what is happening. Again, I hear "The country code you are trying to call is not on the plan."

Duped! I call back the phone company. What the hell is this?? They check out the numbers I'm dialing and yes, 9-6-4-7-9 are on there. Oh, this is a cell phone --too bad, so sad. Cell phones can't be called. Well, let's see, do you think our men in the armed forces have a land phone in their tents??? Obviously, this was designed not for those of us who have already made umpteen sacrifices for our country but for others.

Pity -- they had a chance to make a real difference, and they chose to make a buck!

TV Commercials

OK, so I am exceptionally inspired tonight. One of my biggest pet peeves are the commercials for pharmaceuticals.


First of all, can I just say my 11 year old knew what ED was before me? I thought it was an emotional disorder -- I was wrong. Oh, and if you'd like to know all the side effects of Cialis, just ask him. He's more than happy to recite them all for you.



Viagra -- Viva Viagra! Who the hell came up with that jingle? Not particularly original and I must say, somewhat annoying. Are we really going to go around humming that little ditty??



Nexium! The little purple pill! Hmmm, funny, I don't remember seeing anything in that ad where they were investigating this drug on the suspicion that it caused heart problems. But don't worry -- that adorable little purple pill has been exonerated! Just wished they'd mentioned something before I'd been taking it for a year!


Oh and who can resist a week-end getaway with your herpes-laden significant other? You gotta give the makers of Valtrex credit for getting the scenery right. Very romantic. Problem is, I think I'd have to think twice before pulling out that Ziploc bag for the airport screener.


Well folks, I've, gotta go, gotta go, gotta go right now! Hope I've given you food for thought, and that I'm covered by first amendment rights and won't be sued. Have a great week-end!

Life with Ricky

OK, so my husband's name is not Ricky (as in Ricky Ricardo) but we certainly do bear a striking resemblance to Lucy and Ricky. In fact, our friends in college used to call us Lucy and Ricky. At the time, I never thought much about it. Granted, my husband is from another country. He does indeed speak with an accent (which when we were dating, was much heavier). And I am somewhat crazy. He even calls me Lulee, which is his (albeit, butchered) derivative of my name. However, I never noticed the resemblance until 1993. My husband was taking a business trip to Europe. It was to be 10 days, and something like 6 countries. His room and airfare were paid for. He worked for the airlines, so my ticket would be 90% off. We had a nanny that could watch our kids....and he REFUSED to take me.

I cannot tell you how ticked off I was - so much, that I knew I had to take action. Revenge -- pure and simple. But how? I planned and plotted, yet nothing came to me. Nothing seemed befitting of his refusal to take me. Finally, the day came for me to take him to the airport. As I was pulling away from dropping him off, it came to me -- the ultimate plan! I would remodel our house!

I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. Spend the money he would have spent on me had he taken me on the trip, while decorating our house as I saw fit with no intereference. It was perfect!! So, in my Lucy-esque manner, I enlisted the help of my neighbor aka my brother in law. Since we lived in Kuwait at the time, I needed the perfect co-conspirator. He was an engineer and had just remodeled his home, so he knew where to take me for tile and furniture. And of course, he spoke the language. Plus, he loved to spend money more than me!! I relayed my plan to him at lunchtime and by evening, we were off -- pricing tile and new bath fixtures. He called the workmen and made all the arrangements. I was in heaven!! I was pulling off the ultimate scam!

Fast forward a week...one thing I hadn't counted on was delays and lots of reasons for not finishing. I was very explicit that this had to be done within 10 days. Lulee was starting to sweat. A couple of the bathrooms were finished but we still needed to do the living room, which I had planned to completely tile.

Day 8 and the workmen have torn up my living room floor. Who knew there was no subfloor? My entire first floor was a sandbox. Thank God, we didn't have cats or we would have been knee deep in....well, you know where this is heading. Day 9 is no better. My husband calls to give me his flight information. Uh oh, I sense I'm going to be in trouble. Perhaps I should give my Ricky a tiny hint, just in case the floor isn't in.

"Hi, dear! Things are great...oh, and you'll never guess -- I have a big surprise for you when you get home! ....Now, you know I can't tell you that or it wouldn't be a surprise, would it?!"
OK, at least I'd covered myself and he couldn't say he didn't know.

Well, the day arrived for his return. And no, the floor still wasn't finished, although, maybe a third of it was finished. Now strange as it may seem, I think God had a plan for me. That evening, a tremendous storm blew in, just as his plane was arriving. So much of a storm that his plane almost went down!! They had to circle around to the nearest country (that's right -- COUNTRY). In any case, he was so rattled that the floor became a secondary issue. I think he was so happy to be home, he didn't care what I did to the house. By the way, did I mention the dog I brought home that week???

"LULEEEEEE????"

Computer Savvy

Ok, so this is a totally ridiculous idea -- me, actually using a computer to blog. What the hell is a blog anyhow? Somehow, I think if you have to ask that question, you should not be a "blogger". I have taken a class or two in computers. However, I certainly am nowhere near the 21st century. My 12 year old has fix the settings on my computer when I push the wrong button -- how sad is that??

I am actually doing this in hopes of saving some money on shrinks. Hope whoever reads this doesn't mind. If you're looking for some sweet, cute, politically correct blog, you have certainly come to the wrong place. I am looking to vent -- plain and simple. I have many frustrations due to a husband who loves his overseas job, and has left me here with teenagers to raise. As if that's not enough, after four years of working towards a Master's degree in a field I have come to hate, I now need to find a new occupation. Somehow, I don't think "blogger" is going to be it.