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What could possibly happen next?

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I swear, the fates are conspiring against me for my weekend trip to DC…and it’s actually comical at this point. But let me backtrack just a bit.

It started last night (the night before I leave), when I went to get my carryon suitcase. It was nowhere to be found. It’s always right there, sitting in the guest room. But it wasn’t. So I looked and I looked and I looked. I looked in every bedroom, in every closet, every storage area, inside other suitcases (!), under beds, in the unused shower—I even looked in the trunk of Tom’s car!! And it was nowhere. I thought I had to be going crazy, so I started looking again, figuring I just had to have overlooked it. And I made the rounds again. And then a third time. By this time, I was frantic. I had no other suitcases that were the right size—the train station I am leaving from has no checked baggage, which means I am only allowed carryons (of a certain size, of course). So I called a neighbor and they said they had a smallish one, but I could use it. Of course, it’s smaller than mine, but what can you do? So now I am taking two smaller carryons instead of my perfect-sized carryon. I dashed off an email to Tom in the hopes that he would get it and call me, telling me where the suitcase was. At that point, I started thinking maybe we loaned it to someone??? But I don’t remember that. Oh, and another suitcase is missing as well. So how do TWO suitcases completely disappear?

And that was the start of the night…at 8:30. (It was so late because I had had dinner at a neighbors—thinking it would be a nice relaxing time before the craziness of packing and the weekend. Which it was, except I ate too much!)

So as I’m continuing to pack—now COMPLETELY thrown because I don’t have my suitcase and I’m still just COMPLETELY flabbergasted as to where it could be—other things start going wrong.

The six luggage tags I recently bought (well okay, back in December)? Yeah, I can only find one and need two. Of course, the suitcase I want and can’t find already has one one it. (And yes, I know the station will have them, but that’s not the point of the story!)

The purse I wanted? Coulnd’t find. (I found a bunch of other ones, but not the one I wanted.)

The wallet I wanted? Couldn’t find. And of course I know I’ve seen it lately, but don’t have the time to search the house for the fourth time.

The PJs I wanted? Couldn’t find. Then I found just the tops. Then much later I found the bottoms in another drawer.

The nail polish I wanted to wear? Couldn’t find. At this point, it was about 10pm.

Of course, I hate all of my clothes because I have nothing cute that fits, so that was annoying me (and depressing me). And what shoes do you take to DC? None of my cute shoes (that go with any of my outfits) are good for walking around that much. And I’m not wearing tennis shoes or crocs with dress pants. So that was irritating me. And it just felt like I was spinning my wheels—time was quickly passing and I didn’t seem to be getting anything accomplished.

Then, good news: I found the nail polish! Then, bad news: through a bizarre chain of events, the bottle got knocked off my dresser and I now have a lovely 10″ streak of red nail polish spilled all over the bedroom carpet (as a matter of fact, the same lovely shade of the kitchen grout). At that point, I actually broke down and cried. I tried a few quick things to get the polish out—none of which really worked. I ran to google and found a few more hints—one of which sort of was working, but would have taken forever, and by that time the rest of it was dry, so I figured I didn’t really have to rush and why worry about it at that point. I emailed Tom and asked him how he felt about hardwood floors in the bedroom.

So, by this time, it’s almost midnight so I hope Tom will call. And he did! He was sure he knew where the suitcase was so cool, I was thrilled. Except it wasn’t there. So I sent him another email, hoping he would see it and call me again. No dice. I think by the time I fell asleep it was almost 1am.

So this morning, I was awoken at 6am by the loud barfing of my dear Bella. That was a lovely mess to clean up when I was dead tired and really didn’t have the time.

Then I went to find my favorite lipstick, which I had thought was in my purse. Which it wasn’t. And I couldn’t find it anywhere—so I just thought, Oh I will pick some up at Target. Then I remembered Target doesn’t carry that brand. So I thought—Walgreens has everything. Except they didn’t! So I bought a new brand which completely sucks and will be going back. When I have time.

I just can’t wait to see what else possibly goes wrong. I certainly hope the rest of the weekend gets better…

Oh, wait—there is one positive note! My dog sitter said he would pick Maggie (and her crate!) up instead of me having to haul everything to their house! Yea!

GRRRRRRR, stupid taxes.

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Short version: Oh. My. God. Do I ever hate doing taxes!

Long version: Okay, so for the past few years, we just take all our forms into the tax office on base and sit there for 20 minutes while they do it all for us. For free. And I don’t worry about it, because (1) it’s free and (2) we never get back that much to worry about it (i.e. paying someone $100 to get us back $300).

When I told my friend/coworker this, she thought I was nuts. She says every year, she does her taxes on TurboTax and Taxcut online to see which gives her more, than does it herself online. She said she gets back quite a bit more because she can take her time to go through EVERY little thing. She told me I could probably write off some of my business expenses, which I never do because I don’t really make any money and I don’t really have that many expenses (i.e. I use cable internet, but we’d have it and pay for it even if I didn’t use it for the business—and I buy toners, but I’d buy those anyway, even if I do use more for the business, and besides, it just scares me to deduct for business things because I do not want an audit).

So anway, I thought fine, this year, I will follow her lead and do them online to see where I end up. Which I attempted to do this morning. And 4+ hours later I now have the biggest headache imaginable.

I did TurboTax first (the $80 premier business version, figuring if I was going to do the business deductions, I should at least do that one) and that was quite involved, but I felt good about it because it asked a me a lot of stuff about the business and square footage of my office space and my utilities and it took the percentages and whatnot and figured my deductions. In the end, after an hour of messing with it, I had a measly return of $435—in other words, not too much more than we’d normally get just doing the regular tax return (compared to previous years)…so I wasn’t sure if it would be worth it (I estimated some of the figures, because I wasn’t about to go digging through my checkbook for the past year’s utility payments, etc.).

So then I went over to Taxcut, but only selected the regular (non-business specific) version, and ended up with a refund of $337—only $100 difference for a shitload less work. When I quickly added some business info (granted, not using the business version of the software), they told me that I was not able to take any home office deductions with the info I input!

So then I went back to TurboTax and created a new account just using the basic version (which would cost $30). After another hour, it came in with a return of $345 (vs. the business-edition refund of $435). So, I would save $50 by using a lesser software edition, but would lose $90 in refund (net gain $40). Big whoop. And it seems stupid to go with the Home & Business TurboTax because while it would get me $100 more, I would have to pay $80 to use it. (I didn’t even save my TaxCut info because I just wasn’t thrilled with the site.)

I guess worst case scenario I take my basic forms (i.e. no business stuff) into the base tax office and see what they say my return is. If it is a significant difference from either of the two I did online (say, if I owe money!), I will have to either (1) go more in-depth with the base office and dig out all my business stuff or (2) just push the button on one of the TurboTax versions and deal with it.

This all just seems like a lot of work for very little return (no pun intended). And while I would like to take some home office deductions, I really don’t want to “poke the bear” and take the chance of an audit because really, you’re only supposed to use your home office as your office (100%) and that’s certainly not the case here.

I just don’t understand why this has to be so difficult… But in this case, I think I blame my coworker, LOL (you hear that, Jennie? :>>)—if she hadn’t tried to convince me this was for the best, I would have just taken everything to the tax office like the past five years and been done with it, not knowing anything different.

So, I can’t wait to see what happens…stay tuned.

RIP, Fuzzy

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Also known as FuzzButt, StinkerButt, Pooka, and Fangs That Hang So Low (his indian name).

Today was a normal day when I got home from work, until I went to sit on the couch around 6:15 to watch some TV. I heard a strange noise, which I attributed to Fuzzy, who has been known to breathe heavily and sort of half snore while he sleeps. But it sounded different, so I went looking for him. And when I found him laying in front of the litter box and actually heard the noises he was making, I knew it wasn’t good. It was even worse when I picked him up and he was limp.

I immediately called my vet’s office, since I thought they had late office hours—and I was wrong. I then googled emergency vets in our area and there was one, so I called and said I would be there in 15 minutes. She forwarned me it would be a minimum $85 fee, which I honestly didn’t think was too bad. I was out the door within five minutes.

In the back of my mind, I knew something was wrong with him. He has always been a big cat—our “fat cat”—except lately, over the past 6 months to a year, he has lost quite a bit of weight…like maybe 5-8#. I just attributed it to the fact that he was getting older and not eating as much…but in the back of my mind, I KNEW something was wrong. Earlier this week, I actually told mysef I should take him to the vet for a round of tests, just to know what we might be dealing with. But he was still eating fine and drinking a lot, so I didn’t think about it TOO much.

So tonight, while somewhat of a surprise (he seemed fine when I saw him last night), also wasn’t a surprise.

So I get to the vet’s and the tech took his temperature, and then took it again because she couldn’t believe how low it was. It was 86, and apparently a normal temp should be 102-106 (or something along those lines). She got him a warm towel until the vet came in. One quick listen and she asked me if he had any history of liver or kidney problems (no) and then told me that his heart sounded bad, his lungs sounded bad, he was dehydrated, and he probably needed a blood transfusion. His gums were very pale (almost white), which she said was not a good sign, either. She said they could do bloodwork ($150), but even then, they might not have any good news, and even if they could determine what it was, he would still need a blood transfusion. And even then, he may only have a month or two.

It was at that point I decided it was time to let him go… He’s led a good life with me the past 13 years (the longest I’ve ever had any animal—we adopted him from my aunt and uncle when he was just 1.5 years old) and for all the joy he has brought to my life, he certainly deserved to die peacefully and without any more pain…with me at his side kissing his sweet little face. They gave me some time alone with him, then it was over in a matter of a minute.

Rest in Peace, Fuzzy. You will be missed terribly.

fuzzycostume200

Comedy of Errors

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So I got off work early (due to construction going on in our office) and figured it would be a good night to take dinner down to Rob and Cindy’s since I had extra time to fuss with it. (I have offered to have them down for dinner, but with their little one, it’s easier to eat down there. So sometimes, we take a meal down there.) So I called and left a message that I could bring down steak or chicken to grill, along with a side.

They called about 5pm and said that sounds good, but they have stuff to grill (brats and burgers), so just bring the side! And that’s where the comedy of errors really starts.

I had been planning on making candied yams to go with the steak/chicken, but that didn’t really seem like a suitable side for brats/burgers, so I went to the pantry to find something that would go better with that meal.

I thought “Oh, green bean casserole sounds good!” but of course I didn’t have all the ingredients (only one can of soup).

So then I thought “Oh, I will just take green beans and put cheese and bacon in them.” Except that the frozen green beans were a little freezer burnt and I won’t do that to friends.

So then I thought “Oh, I will make rice!” but by then I had wasted like 10 minutes trying to decide what I was making—and I was supposed to be there at 5:30—so I didn’t have time to make rice.

So it was back to the candied yams. I turned the oven on to preheat while I started reducing the sauce. I thought I smelled something burning/cooking, but there was nothing on the burner, so I didn’t think much about it. So five minutes later the oven beeps and I open the door and—OH. MY. GOD. I had left a cardboard box in there from my spa party the day before…and the edges were turning black and the plastic covering on the box was melting and there was a bit of smoke pouring out. So I grabbed it and threw it on the floor, had to grab tongs to get out a small piece of cardboard that was actually on the heating element, and then hurried to turn on all the fans and open the doors and windows—the last thing I needed was all the smoke detectors to go off! 88|

It all turned out okay, but it was not the experience I had anticipated!

Angel Maggie vs. Devil Maggie

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I had been cleaning the house and vacuuming (and whatnot), so I put all of Maggie’s toys on top of her crate. She physically saw me put her favorite squeaker Dino up there, but she was already in her crate for the night.

So, in the morning, I took her out and let her roam while I was in the shower—our normal routine. When I got out of the shower, I saw her on the bed (which is where she usually is) except I noticed she was chewing on a toy! I knew there were no toys in the bedroom, so I went out to look, and—yes, she had pulled every single toy off her crate, and they were scattered everywhere! I could just imagine the mischevious look on her face as she did this! So I was lovin’ on her something fierce—she was just so cute.

So I keep getting ready and I walked back into the bedroom and she looked guilty as sin. You know the look—ears back, puppy dog eyes, the whole nine yards. I immediately look around the room, expecting to see fluff/stuffing all over the place…but no. Instead? A pile of poop vomit. Yes, folks, poop vomit. She had apparently eaten her poop that morning when I left her alone to put a load of laundry in. (Typically, I stand there and watch her like a hawk, to prevent such things, but I’ve been doing that for months and she’s been good, so I thought I could leave her alone. HA! She fooled me.) So…it obviously upset her stomach and she puked it up. Let me tell you how fun that is to clean, especially as I’m running around half dressed trying to get ready for work—and, oh yes—as Tom was calling as well! So I get it cleaned up and I go in to check my email and—OH. MY. GOD. There was another poop vomit pile. GRRRRRRRRRR. She obviously did that one first and I just missed it.

I have to say I like the Angel Maggie better.

I love a tired puppy!

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So yesterday was a holiday around these parts—for the military, at least. 🙄 I had asked our friends, Tom and Karen, if/when I could bring Maggie over for a play date because she hasn’t played with any dogs in a long time, and she really needed the interaction. Tom, who had the day off, said I could bring her over Monday for the whole day!

And she had a blast, I’m sure—she loves playing with Venus! I dropped her off at 8am and right away, they were crazy dogs and got sent outside. When I got back at 5:15, they were still crazy, but Tom assured me they had been crashed on the couch before I rang the doorbell.

So, as it happens, I had been invited down to dinner at Rob and Cindy’s, so I put Maggie in her crate when I got home at 5:30. (Normally I would feel bad about that, but since she had been playing all day, I was okay with it.) When I got home from dinner at 7, I tried to get her out to eat dinner—and she was having none of it. I don’t think she even opened her eyes! She was just TOTALLY crashed. I left her crate door open in case she wanted to get out later…but she never did. I tried getting her up around 9:30 to at least potty before bed, but she was still crashed!

This morning at 7:30, I had to poke her to get her up and moving…and she stumbled down the stairs (when normally, she races down!) and went right to her food bowl (she missed dinner, you remember). Then she went out, did her business, then want back up into our bed and slept. I had to carry her to her crate when I left at 8.

I LOVE A TIRED PUPPY! (Especially since I was having a tough time walking last night!!) Tom said I am welcome to bring her over more often, and I think I am going to take him up on it!!

Wowee, a pulled calf muscle…

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So over the past few days, I’ve noticed that my left calf muscle feels sore, almost as if I pulled the muscle. I have not done anything to it to warrant it feeling pulled—the most I’ve done, aside from my day-to-day normal activities like walking up and down the stairs, walking to the mailbox, and playing fetch with Maggie, is to take Maggie for a walk. There has been no strenuous exercising, no unsual movements, no sleeping on it weird, and no taking a tumble down the stairs or tripping over my own feet.

So today, I was at work and was back in the kitchen when I heard my phone ring and I knew it was hubby. I kicked off my heels and made a dash towards the front desk and got about five steps before I came to an immediate limping halt! I want to say I felt it pop, but I think I’m just imagining that. But I do know that at that moment, every step was painful, and I couldn’t stand the pain to even try and stretch the muscle out. I could barely walk on it and I was limping like crazy.

So what happened? What did I do? I have no idea.

My online friends (who I turn to for things such as this) suggested I get a calf brace to help the muscle relax, so I called Dick’s and they had them, so off I went (my boss also told me to go, because she was hurting just watching me hobble around). At this point, I put my shoes back on (very low heels, about 1″), and it actually felt better and I was able to walk without as much pain (because the muscle didn’t need to stretch as far). Long story short, Dick’s DIDN’T have them, and I was ticked off—so apparently when I called to ask if they carried them, they just told me yes without actually CHECKING THE SHELVES. 😡

On the way back, I called Rob, our neighbor who is a doctor, and asked him what I should do. He said ice for 48 hours, 800mg of Ibuprofen every four hours, then heat and Iboprofen after 48 hours. So I stopped at Walgreens and picked up an ice pack wrap thing, some packs of Icy Hot pads, and some Ibuprofen. When I got back to the office, my boss had gone to the chiropractor (down at the end of our building) and picked up some Bio-Freeze for me! (Awwwwwwww, see—she can be awesome!)

The ice pack does help a bit, and I’m sure the Ibuprofen doesn’t hurt…but the worst part is trying to walk after sitting for a bit. Oh, the pain.

So, what really sucks is that I had really just started to get into a groove with my walking/exercise schedule: come home, let Maggie out, go for a walk. There’s no way I could walk a mile in this condition. 🙁

What are your favorite smells?

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Last night, I was spontaneously invited down to dinner at a neighbor’s, and after dinner, they suggested a fire (our first semi warm night in weeks). So he made a fire in their chimnea and it was WONDERFUL! I even love how my clothes and hair smell afterwards. Of course, part of it are the memories it evokes of camping with my family when I was younger…but the smell, oh…the smell.

So this morning I was thinking about smells and wondering what my other top smells are… Campfire is definitely in the top 10, along with fresh lilacs and fresh cut grass. After that, I’d have to include the smell of Eternity (thanks to hubby!) and a Michigan cool-to-warm morning (hard to describe, but it’s a combination of the weather, the trees, the grass, the air—everything). Other than that, there are great smells (lots of cooking and baking smells, to be sure!), but nothing that comes immediately to mind to round out my top 10.

Digital Photo Frames

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So my big surprise for all the parents this year was a digital (LCD) photo frame—and as I predicted, they all LOVED them! And I was THRILLED to have found such a perfect gift.

Well, you should have seen my sad little face when I got home…because I didn’t get myself a frame. I had seriously thought about it, but then thought naaaah, I don’t really need one. But then I played with the other ones (getting them loaded with pictures) and missed having it on my desk at work (I had had to test it out, make sure it worked easily)…so I’ve been looking for one, watching the sales, deciding if I really wanted one or not. And yes, yes I did.

Having seen how two different models worked, I knew what I wanted in mine—and I found a decent one at Amazon, although it was a little more than I wanted to spend. But, I rationalized, it’s still a good price—just a hair more than I paid for the Christmas gift frames, with the addition of it being a larger screen! So I bought it. And thank goodness I did when I did, because three days later, the price on Amazon jumped over $50!! 88|

So now I have my own digital photo frame for my desk at work—currently loaded with 1544 pictures, with room for as many more! I highly recommend these as gifts for anyone, and—as evidenced by my experience—a nice gift for yourself!

Emotional Rollercoaster

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It’s amazing how the little things in life can change your mood.

I opened my email this morning and saw that Tom had written me at 2am. On one hand, I was thrilled that he wrote me :), but on the other hand, I was sad I missed him 🙁 (even though I would not have normally been up at that time).

Then I sat at the computer for awhile—then with a start, I realized I didn’t have my phone with me (!), so I literally ran downstairs—and I had missed TWO calls from Tom. :'( Instantly, my mood went from happy to completely depressed. Since he left, I have had my phone on me, at my side, or within reach EVERY SECOND OF THE DAY. Until this morning. I was just kicking myself. TWO CALLS! I missed TWO CALLS! And the last one I only missed by a minute!!! :'( I got a tear in my eye, I started moping around the house, and I was sad. I had been planning to take a shower and thought “Screw it, I don’t even feel like doing that now.”

And then the phone rang—and it was Tom! :>> OH JOY! And I was happy again, and my mood changed immediately, and everything was right with the world!

This is the stuff that I forgot about that I don’t like…this is what makes the time apart hard to handle. But at least I get to talk to him frequently, and that is a good thing.

Expired goods.

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So the other day, I pulled out a bag of dry soup mix (Asiago Asparagus something or other) that I know has been in the pantry quite some time. As in, I know I’ve moved it from one house to another, so it’s been in our pantry at least 1.5 years. I started to make it and although it smelled okay, it didn’t look quite right. Then I tasted it—and it was horrible. I checked the expiration—and it was 2002. Yes, 2002. Which means it came with us from Virginia 3.5 years ago when we first moved here! Needless to say I dumped it all out.

Then last night, I was going through the pantry for the Boy Scout food drive, and realized quite a bit of the stuff was expired. Now, I’m not talking years old or anything (like the soup!), but like a cake mix and frosting (10/06), salad dressing (8/06), cans of V8 (2/06), and canned chicken (6/06). Of course, I would still eat these things after expiration (hell, some times long after expiration) but it hit me—should I donate these things? Is something better than nothing? Honestly, some of the things are items I don’t make often (like the cake and frosting, obviously) so if I don’t donate them, they’re going to sit in my pantry even longer. The short version is I am not donating anything expired, but…

That story, combined with the soup incident…take one guess what I’m doing this weekend? Yep, I’m going through everything and tossing like crazy. 🙂 And then NOT buying more stuff until we need it!!

Strange coincidence of the day, v2.

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Earlier tonight I talked to Tom. During our conversation he asked if he could call me at work and I said “Most certainly!!” I then continued and said “You can call me ANYTIME! But, really, don’t #$&@ call me at 3am if you can help it.” 😀

An hour or so later, I was talking to a friend (one we met at New Years in Raleigh), and we were talking about how we really enjoyed talking to one another and how he can always make me laugh…and he told me I can call him any time day or night—except, he said, “Don’t #$&@ call at like 3am.” :))

Of course, I had to tell him what I had said earlier and he got a big kick out of that. We are so much on the same wavelength sometimes it’s frightening.

Losing my mind…and apparently my keys.

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So Tom and I were running errands before he left, and when he drives, he likes to take my car keys off my ring (effectively cutting the size of the key ring by 75%). So he did this, but they never got put back on. So I get in the car Friday morning to go to work—the day after Tom left—and I don’t have keys. Normally he leaves them on the mat or between the seats, but they weren’t there. I searched the car, his car, his coat pockets, our bedroom, my purse—they were nowhere. Great, I thought, what did he do with the keys?! I knew they weren’t LOST, they were just misplaced somewhere around the house—and I figured I’d ask him whenever he called. (I hated the thought of having to waste time during his first call asking about keys, but what could I do?)

Fast forward to me arriving at work and having to wait for someone to get there to let me in (I’m usually the first one there). While I was waiting, I emptied my purse, sure that the keys were in there. Nope. I let my boss know that my keys were temporarily missing and she didn’t freak out (yay!) and said they’d just make me a new one. I said we could if I hadn’t found them by Monday.

That night when I went home, I put my cell phone in the front pocket of my purse (where I normally keep it, except for lately, since Tom has left) and voila! There were my keys! GRRR! I swore I had looked in every pocket…but at least there they were. So, I was extremely relieved.

Monday morning, I know I had the keys because I was first to work and had to unlock the door. I know I had them mid-morning when the glass people came to replace my windshield (sidenote: yay! we finally have a new windshield after living with the cracked one for five years) because I remember taking my car keys off to give them to the fixit guy. I swear they were on my desk all day. At the end of the day, I told my boss not to worry because I had found my keys.

After that, my memory is hazy.

I know I stopped at the grocery store, but remember only taking in my single car key. I am not sure where the other keys were at that point (but at the time, I wasn’t even thinking about it). And I didn’t think about it again until I got to work and—you guessed it—I didn’t have my keys. They weren’t in the car, under the seats, in my purse…anywhere.

Hoo boy.

I hoped maybe I had left them in the office on my desk, or maybe they had fallen on the floor or something—but they were NOWHERE. So I thought I wouldn’t say anything until I was able to check at home—sure they were in my coat pocket or something. But I searched high and low and they are nowhere. So I’m back to having no keys—and this time, I have NO idea where they are. 🙁

I hate this. How can I not know where they are? How could I lose them between the office and home? 😯

02.07.2007 UPDATE

I found my keys the following morning. I was picking up the office and picked up a bag I had recently brought files home in—and my keys were in there. Not two feet from where I had been sitting the whole night (where I composed this actual post about the missing keys).

Strange coincidence of the day!

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So earlier tonight I was catching up on my message board posts, and I clicked on a thread from a recent meet where people were posting their pictures. As I scrolled down, I saw a photo of a group in a hot tub. At just that moment, my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number but picked it up anyway—and it was one of the people in the photo! The even stranger thing about it is that he had never once called me before that night. Bizarre.

The Saga About My Raise

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The short version is that last Friday, I was told that we would FINALLY discuss my raise/evaluation (which was technically due in November). As I predicted, they were too busy to get to me and other things got in the way—even after John said (around noon) “We haven’t forgotten about you. We will get to it this afternoon.” I know they’re busy, but to me, it sort of implies “We really don’t care that much and your raise isn’t important to us.”

The long version is really long—get ready.

So in the work world, you typically get a review and/or raise on your anniversary, right? You’d agree that’s commonplace? Okay, so on my one-year anniversary (which would be November 2005), nothing happens, nothing is said, no review, no raise, etc. Well, actually, John or Sue might have made some mention, but it was small (so much so that I obviously can’t remember), but I just thought/assumed that after the holidays Sue would get to it. Well, that is right about the time that things got crazy at Coldwell Banker and we were talking about moving and then we did move to the new office (March 2006). STILL nothing had been said about any raise—and we were already four months beyond my anniversary. I was ticked, to say the least. I mean, they kept telling me how great I was and how much they appreciated me—but they apparently couldn’t be bothered to give me a raise. (Now, I know they were busy—even crazy busy at times, especially with the opening of our own office—but you just don’t mess with someone’s raise.)

So one day while John and I were out shopping for the new office, it came up that I hadn’t received a raise. He was surprised, saying that he thought Sue had given me one back in November when it was due. Nope, nada, nothing. At that time, I made the comment that I sort of had an offer to go elsewhere (I hadn’t officially had an offer, but our good friend Roger had suggested that I might come work with him) but that they [John and Sue] had been good to me and I wanted to stay true to them. John appreciated me telling him that, and said he’d have a talk with Sue. A few days later I got that $2.50 raise. Since it was so much, I didn’t really feel I could complain about not having gotten it on/around my anniversary four months prior. (Of course, I still didn’t think it was what I was worth—but honestly, who ever does? 😉 ) But I was still thrilled with the raise.

Fast forward to November 2006, my second anniversary—technically only eight months since my last raise, but remember: my last raise was technically four months late. So, again, no review, no raise, no mention, nothing. Before I left on vacation, John did mention something about it, but of course nothing ever happened and then I was gone for three weeks. Upon my return, nothing was said FOR 2 WEEKS. Finally John brought it up or I mentioned it and he said he was “still working on her” because she feels that raises should now be based on WHEN WE OPENED THE NEW OFFICE, as opposed to WHEN I ACTUALLY STARTED. What the hell? He blathered on about how that’s just the way she thinks and she “just” gave me a raise in March! WHAT THE HELL? was my first thought. I mean, do they not remember that the March raise was technically the PREVIOUS NOVEMBER’S RAISE????? And he said…it’s easier for her to budget if the new girl and me are on the same schedule (which apparently means that the other girl will get her raise two months early, since she started two months after we opened) and something about tax-wise it’s easier and how she just has a hard time thinking about hourly wages because she’s so used to commission.

Needless to say I WAS PISSED. Now, I realize she doesn’t have to give me any raise at all, ever. But with how much they say they love me and how great I am and how they couldn’t live without me, you’d THINK they’d show a little more appreciation. John said something about “How would you feel about $12 an hour?” Yeah, great, that’s another $1.50/hour (a great raise in and of itself), but I think $12 is still SHIT for what I do for them. I joked that I could quit, charge them my regular fees for such things as design, website stuff, etc., and I’d be able to work half as much while making the same amount. They just DO NOT realize how much I do and how hard it would be to find someone who could COMPETENTLY do what I do if I ever left.

To add to this saga, whenever we get together with our friends, the conversation always ends up at real estate…and they ineveitably have to listen to me bitch. And as good friends, Roger (the agent I mentioned above) wants what’s best for me, so he is trying to help me get a raise—and he is the one who pointed out that since we left Coldwell Banker, we have TWICE as many listings (i.e. twice as much work for me)…meaning I should get a raise just for the fact that my workload has at least doubled. Add to that we now belong to three MLS boards (not just our local one) which means an additional 2x the amount of work on 2x the amount of listings as we used to have. The actual saga comes when I mentioned these facts to John, and happened to say that Roger was the one who actually pointed out that information out to me. Well, let’s just say there is NO love lost between the two…so right away, John thinks that Roger is trying to steal me away again and makes a comment to me [to the effect of] “I know how you play us against him.” WHAT? I did that once, and it was not really even playing one against the another—I was being honest and saying that someone else might offer to hire me and left it at that. (That said, I am not sure I could work for a friend—I mean, technically I could, but I would hate to chance ruining our friendship.)

So a week ago Friday I emailed everyone in the office to let them know I was going to be taking Thursday off (when Tom left). It was going to be unpaid, as I have no vacation left. (As a semi sidenote, Wendy and Jennie were completely AGHAST that Sue wasn’t going to give me the time off and I just shrugged it off—technically she doesn’t have to do anything, but I agreed it would have been a nice gesture.) So Wednesday afternoon, I think it was (maybe Tuesday), John emailed me to say that I could use my banked hours for Thursday and then have the remaining time off with pay…and that we’d talk about my raise Friday. Wow, I was completely surprised about the day off, and of course was geeked about my raise.

So, as mentioned earlier, Friday comes and goes with no raise. I did get a call at 8:30 that night (voicemail, actually!) saying “We just realized we forgot…we will do it Monday.” Again, making me feel extremely UNimportant.

And that’s the story.

As I was writing this post, it was 4:30 on Monday afternoon. I had actually written:

Stay tuned, I’m sure the meeting (whever it actually happens—it’s 4:30 today and it hasn’t happened yet) will be a doozy…

Then I got called into the office at about 4:35!

Long story short, I sat down, John basically said “How about $12 like we said?” and Sue said she did appreciate me, even though she doesn’t say it enough…and John agreed with her. We chatted a bit, and that was it! So I have a raise, effective immediately, and all future raises will be March 1.

When do you care about how cold it is?

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That was the question posed the other day on the forum I frequent (the one where we met the people at New Years). The poll choices were:

  • 50°
  • 30°
  • 0°
  • -10°
  • -25°

Having lived in Michigan most of my life, of course my first instinct was to say -25°. That said, having now lived in North Carolina for the last three years…I’d say 30°. (In my heart of hearts I really thought about saying 50°, but 50° is just chilly…while 30° is flat out COLD.)

So this morning, my little desktop weather channel icon was flashing red, which means a severe weather warning. Severe weather? I had no idea what it could be—this isn’t hurricane season! :)) So I clicked on it and…cold weather. Supposedly the worst cold weather of the season is coming over the next few days. And what is this extreme cold weather?

DAYTIME TEMPS WITH HIGHS IN THE MID- TO UPPER-30S WITH OVERNIGHT TEMPS IN THE UPPER TEENS AND 20S

I laughed. Yes, it’s cold for NC, but I guess I am still a Michigan girl at heart because that made me laugh out loud.

Again, Wells Fargo ticks me off.

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So, I wanted to check my mortgage account information. I do have online bill pay set up, but full account information is NOT available through that account. I swear I had an account set up, but I can’t find logon info anywhere, and none of the “I forgot my username/password” links work because they can’t find my account. Of course, what makes matters worse is that I don’t know if the account is under Tom’s social or mine (or both) so I try a variety. I keep getting errors and then finally I get “We are unable to process your request without further information. Please call us at…”

So I call. After waiting on hold for at least 10 minutes, I give the guy my name and social and nope, he can’t find me. So I say it might be under hubby’s social and he immediately got snippy and said “Sorry, we can’t do that.” I totally understand the privacy issue, but told him my husband was deployed, I have a POA, and what do I need to do to gain access? He again says he can’t do anything, hubby has to do it, and suggested I have my husband call and put me on the account. I said that really was not a feasible option at this point, this can’t be the first time this has happened, what do I need to do to get online access? He tells me I could probably go to a local office, show ID and POA, but there’s nothing he can do for me. Which I guess I understand his hands are tied, but he was just waaaay too rude and snippy about it. I said “Are you sure there’s nothing you can do?” He then said “Well, I guess I could call the mortgage people and make sure.” Oh, you think? 🙄

So he puts me on hold for like three minutes, comes back and says “Here’s the number, I will transfer you.” I still have to go through all the voice prompts and entering of account numbers, and I was thinking “I thought you were going to transfer me to someone?” The gist of it? The mortgage department is closed on Sunday. Like the rep didn’t know that and couldn’t have told me that? GRRRRRRRRRRRR. >:(

I guess I will call our local Wells Fargo lady (she’s always in our office, know her pretty well) and see if she can help me. I have never had good experiences with any of the 800# reps—every time I have to call them I get ticked off.

My new friends are awesome.

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So, I know I never talked about our New Year’s Eve that we spent in Raleigh with the group of friends I had met online (but had never met in person). Now so much time has passed that it seems silly to go back and write about it, so suffice it to say the weekend was probably in our top five weekends of all time! (Tom even agrees with me—he had that much fun! I think he was 100% surprised at how good a time he had.) We got along smashingly with everyone, had an absolute BLAST, and made some great new friends that we can’t wait to see more of.

That said, it was a great thing to do right before Tom left, as they all got to meet him and are now really excited about sending him (and his entire unit) packages. So far, we have about 35 volunteers (of which we have actually only met about 20) and they are COMPLETELY excited about it. There’s even an Excel spreadsheet involved in the planning!

In addition to that, they are all EXTREMELY supportive. I have had numerous offers to call anytime, night or day, home or work, etc. Of course, I am not big on calling people, but I know the offer is there and it means a lot. (I know my friends and family have offered that as well, but to have people I met for one weekend offer that? It really touches my heart.) I may even take some of them up on it sooner or later, you never know…

So, imagine my surprise when Thursday evening—the day Tom left—I got a phone call from one of them. He knew I said I wouldn’t want to talk to anyone, but he called anyway because he wanted to cheer me up. He kept me on the phone for over an hour, telling me great stories (about his life in general and stories about people I’d met) and keeping me laughing. Tonight, another one called…just to say hey and to let me know she was serious—I could call her (or her hubby) at any time, day or night, just to say hey or vent or whatever.

So, now, in addition to the great friends I have here locally, I also have great friends across the country. 😀

An innovative way to chat long-distance!

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Tom and I finally got to talk today for a few minutes (damn old calling cards, it’s like 50 credits a minute or something insane like that) so we burned through two small [leftover from the last deployment] cards and then we emailed quite a bit.

He tried to login to our account to turn on the webcam, but he wasn’t able to with whatever system he was using. However, the neat technological part is that we figured out a neat alternative…he logged into my computer using logmein (which we had setup before he left, which gives him access to my computer). So I turned on my webcam, he opened a blank notepad document, and we chatted back and forth on my desktop!! The lag wasn’t bad on my end, but he said it was horrible on his…so we only did that for maybe 10 minutes. But he did get to see me and Maggie (who was sleeping on my lap at the time).

I missed him! I can’t believe I missed him!

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So I decided that this entire weekend was meant for vegging and getting caught up on my TV shows. Of course, the phone was by my side every minute, just in case Tom got a chance to call from wherever he happens to be. No calls all night…but I wasn’t worrying because he said it could be 3 days or so. So after my shows are done, I mosey on over to the computer to check my email before going to bed—and CRAP!—there was an email from him at 11:14 asking if I was on!! Of course, any other night I would have been right there. 🙁 I emailed back immediately (11:23, only 9 minutes later) but he never responded.

CRAP CRAP @&*^#&*^ CRAP.

But at least I know he’s alive. 🙂

What a spectacularly craptastic day.

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I would honestly have to rank today as one of the worst days, if not THE worst day, of my life so far.

Yes, he’s gone.

And yes, I know there have been bad days in my life, but there is nothing—just NOTHING—like knowing you are saying goodbye to someone for A YEAR. And that someone is your spouse. And knowing they are going to a war zone.

For a year.

A @#*$ year. :'(

So, aside from that alone being enough to rank this as the worst day ever, the weather is horrid—35° and rainy (which, actually, is perfect weather to remain morose all afternoon, so goody for me).

And apparently, I am the most emotional person on earth—no one else I saw dropping off their marines was shedding a tear—or even looked upset or depressed. I, on the other hand, couldn’t even get out of the car because I was so torn up. :'( I guess I am being emotional enough to cover everyone else’s lack of emotion.

Which leads me to the next thing—I feel absolutely horrible (HORRIBLE!) that I couldn’t stay there with Tom. Now, don’t get me wrong—I was ALLOWED to…but I just couldn’t! There is NO WAY ON EARTH I could sit there for four hours with him—in the midst of all those people—and THEN watch the buses leave! Talk about torture!! You might as well just shoot me and get it over with. But I just feel bad, because there were lots of people who WERE staying, and I’m sure Tom would have liked me to stay—although, you gotta love him—he wanted me to do what I was comfortable with. And unfortunately, I just couldn’t stay.

So it was a looooooooooong drive home. In the rain. Crying. And I have to say coming home to an empty house is just about the most depressing thing ever. Of course, Maggie was happy to see me and get out of her crate (and gave me kisses!), but I can’t take anything at face value right now, so I just see her and think about how much Tom loves her and how much he misses her and how I love to see them playing and how he won’t be able to play with her for a year. And just when I think my head hurts so much I can’t possibly cry any more, I start crying again.

It’s going to be a long day.

But like I told mom this morning…today will be horrible, tomorrow will be awful, this weekend will suck, but then it will start getting better! I hope.

Thursday is D-Day

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So the time is drawing near and although logically I know what’s coming Thursday, I still can’t really believe it. I’m not sure when it will finally hit home—when he’s packing the car, when I drop him off, when I get home to an empty house, my first night sleeping alone, the call in the middle of the night when we gets wherever he’s going, the first morning he’s not there when I wake up, the first day I don’t get a call from him at work (we typically talk at least twice a day, if not more often), the first time I have to do something around the house he normally does…okay, I have to stop, because I’m at work and I don’t want to start crying. 😥

This just sucks, period. 😥

The Jacksonville Ninja

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I have been wanting to write about this guy ever since we moved here, but I’ve just never gotten around to it…that, and I never quite knew how I would describe him and what he does/looks like.

Well, today, someone forwarded me a video of him—and I about died laughing. It’s spot on.

This guy stands out on the street corner at a major intersection and does karate moves/acts like a ninja to his boom box (which he always has with him). He is always shirtless, is an ex-marine, and goes by the name Radio. There’s not much more I can say, so just watch the video!!

Stupid government!

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Stupid $&#!@ government. First they tell us Tom’s leave date has been upped a week, due to leave on January 30. Then they rescind that almost immediately and say, no you will be leaving February 1. Why? You want to $&#!@ know why they added two measly days? Because if they left here on the 30th, they would get to the war zone on the 31st, and then they’d have to pay them FULL DEPLOYMENT PAY for the entire month. And that certainly isn’t going to happen if they have a choice in the matter—god forbid you give your marines a little bonus like that. GRRRRRR.

GREAT BOOTS UPDATE!

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Tom just called and said the local shelter will take her!!!! He told them everything and they said it will be tough [to adopt her out] but they will take her! We are “donating” the adoption fee, along with food, treats, toys, litter, etc. I am also thinking about a gift card to Petsmart.

Oh, this lightens my heart tremendously!!!

Sad news.

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The short version is that the vet says Boots is most likely suffering from Pariah Syndrome (at the moment, I cannot find any information online so am not sure if Tom heard it wrong, I am spelling it wrong, or it’s something else that sounds the same, etc.).

The vet said it’s a mix of things, including that the cat has been traumatized at some time in her life (which I wrote about earlier) in addition to her having extreme bouts of anxiety and stress, in addition to her not being the alpha female…all of which combine to cause her improper elimination—and it’s something that most likely will never be cured, even if we were to take the cat two hours away to a specialist to get other meds (and then he said we’d have to medicate two cats, and even then it might not be successful).

The vet said we’ve done more than most people would in our situation, and our choices were either live with her peeing everywhere or…..putting her down. So, it’s not looking good… we know what has to be done, and are completely heartbroken over it. It kills us just to think about it…

So, I found a new “diet” but…

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So, I found a new “diet” and got all excited about it—Oprah’s diet guru Bob Greene’s The Best Life Diet—and now I’m pissed.

Why?

On the show, I SWEAR Oprah said [something to the effect of] “Go to the [best life] site and sign up for free!” So today I ordered the book and just now I went to the website to sign up and…nope, not free. They want $20 a month or $150 a year for access to everything!

WHAT THE HELL?

Yes, I want to change my life, but I honestly wasn’t planning on forking out $150 up front—especially since that part was NOT mentioned on the show (I’m pretty damn sure I would remember that).

So, it either feels like “pony up the bucks to vastly improve my Diet experince and chance at success” or “I feel my health is not worth $4.50 a week.” >:(

Boots is back.

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Well, that adoption was certainly short-lived. The woman who adopted her emailed me Saturday morning that she didn’t think it was going to work out. Apparently Boots kept trying to bite her child and swatted at her face repeatedly. And she didn’t get along with the dog, either. And she never used the litterbox once, but peed all over the place.

So we took her back. And it really sucks. I mean, I definitely don’t mean to make light of the situation, but we have already been through 1+ years of cat-fighting and harassment and of another potential adoptive home that fell through—so we were happy she was going (we thought) to a good home. And we had gone through the emotions of both having to give her up and actually giving her up. And now we have her back…and are just waiting for the problems to start again.

To make matters worse, there are other issues. For the past year, Boots has had elimination issues. She has been peeing all over our house and has actually ruined furniture. Most of the times it’s in hiding, but we have caught her in the act. She does use the litter boxes, and she has been to the vet (who couldn’t find any definite problems), so we attributed this to her not getting along with the other cats and just being stressed. Needless to say we have spent lots of money on special cat phermones that are supposed to be calming and help reduce stress. They seem to work somewhat, but they definitely don’t work 100% as she still has some issues. We were sure that putting her in a new home without cats would be the solution. Which it apparently wasn’t. At this point, we are not sure how much longer we can handle her elimination issues. She’s been to the vet, she’s been on medication, and we have the phermones, but nothing has really helped. I’ve had more than one sleepless night over this situation.

What we have determined, however, is that that family we adopted her from (our neighbors)…well, we are pretty sure the kids terrorized the poor cat. We thought it was cute when the little girl came to visit Boots and Boots sort of jumped up at her. We assumed it was playing or recognition, but now we think it may have been retribution! We honestly don’t think the family got rid of the cat due to “allergies” like they claimed.

So we’re not sure what we’re going to do. We’ve pretty much tried all that we can, short of a pet psychic…