I e-mailed the owner of the house I had seen on Sunday morning to tell him that I didn't think the house would work for me, elucidating the lack of air conditioning and presence of only one bath on the second floor.
He e-mailed back, saying he understood and agreed whole-heartedly. He thanked me for writing and said, "You're obviously a class act."
Nice. Ya think I could get him to write a letter of reference I could present to potential suitors?
Thursday, May 31, 2007
A Long and Sordid History
I made a couple of purchases via phone and Internet today, and Chase Visa locked my account. (Thanks alot, guys, that makes me look real good!) First I got the automated call from Chase asking me to press 1 as the little-guy-automated-computer-voice read off each purchase to confirm the transaction. Four hours later I received a second call from Chase, only this time leaving a message asking me to call the fraud prevention department.
I called, and had to key in my account number, first three letters of my mother's maiden name, and the last four of my SSN. Then the system connected me with a customer service representative, who asked me AGAIN my account number, my mother's maiden name, and the last four of my SSN. Excuse me, what was the purpose of the computer asking me this info if a person was going to ask me again?!
Once the CSR determined it was me, she then had to ask me three more questions from my long and sordid past to determine it was me. She asked which of three addresses I had lived at in the past. I got that one easily. Then she asked me what month S.G. was born! S. is Husband #2's daughter! I have had no dealings with this sniveling, manipulative little marriage-breaker since 1987. (Attitude? I don't have no stinking attitude.) I may remember my first husband's social security number, but I try to remember nothing from subsequent marriages. (I don't actually try to remember his SSN; it's just so deeply ingrained in my brain I can't get it out. To my sons: if you ever need this info, just give me a call!) Fortunately, I correctly guessed the answer to this question and confirmed my purchases (again) and they unlocked my account.
I think the people who steal identities and cause all this annoyance and aggravation for the rest of us should be strung up by their thumbs!
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
A First!
Today I applied for tech writer and database consultant positions at Hyland Software on the west side of Cleveland. Imagine my surprise, while navigating the online application form, to be presented with a page asking me to compose an original poem about my job. Jeez!
So with my haiku blog experience last year, I came up with this.
A Web Content Developer's Haiku
Compelling content
Brings visitors to our site
To study and learn.
Excellent products,
Leading edge technology
Plus my thoughtful words.
My goal? To convert
Visitors into buyers
For IBM's gain.
Of course, once I hit "Submit" I had the terrible sense that I had not met their minimum requirements. Dare I hope they think I'm clever enough that I didn't need to meet the minimum requirements?!
Oh help.
So with my haiku blog experience last year, I came up with this.
A Web Content Developer's Haiku
Compelling content
Brings visitors to our site
To study and learn.
Excellent products,
Leading edge technology
Plus my thoughtful words.
My goal? To convert
Visitors into buyers
For IBM's gain.
Of course, once I hit "Submit" I had the terrible sense that I had not met their minimum requirements. Dare I hope they think I'm clever enough that I didn't need to meet the minimum requirements?!
Oh help.
Decisions, Decisions
As I was leaving Youngstown on Sunday to drive back to Pittsburgh for my flight back to Tucson, I stopped for 15 minutes to see a house the next street over from Ty and Jaci. I had seen this house advertised on Craig's List and had e-mailed a few times with the owner. He is asking $48,000. !
The house is about 2000 square feet, two-story plus full basement, a style we call "Center Hall Colonial" in Virginia. It needs significant work, including getting the mold out of the basement. But it's good space, good bones in a house.
Seeing houses like this helps me refine what I want. First, I need a living room large enough to hold a 6' grand, plus with an entry space that the piano can navigate. Next, I want a dining room that will hold John's antique breakfront that I dearly love. Oh, and two bathrooms on the second floor. That's more important than the breakfront. I don't want to have to walk out into the hall in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, and I don't want to share my bathroom with houseguests, whether those houseguests are my grandchildren or adult visitors. (Oh, I didn't mean that. There were no lines to read between in that statement. I mean if any of you come to visit.) Also, good computer space is a must. And good sewing space. Intrinsic in both the computer space and the sewing space is good light. My aging, Lasik'd eyes demand good light. Finally, as I stated the other day, air conditioning — or forced air heating that will enable me to install air conditioning — are greatly desired, if not required.
I can probably meet many of these needs in any house, except the wall for the breakfront and the second bathroom. So I need to e-mail this owner — coincidentally a lawyer-by-training with an alternative vocation — and tell him I don't think his house is for me.
As I think about possibilities in houses, I also think about possibilities in jobs. Today I happened upon a site with contract technical writing jobs. Several of them required 10 hours a week and paid $10K or so a year. Hey, I could have three or four of these positions and make it financially!
With each day, my mind opens wider than the day before.
I've got airline reservations to return to Y'town for the July 27th public memorial service for Bob Fitzer. I wonder how many more reservations I'll make before I don't have to fly there any more?!
And Happy Fourth Birthday today to our little Ridley, my little cutie pie.
The house is about 2000 square feet, two-story plus full basement, a style we call "Center Hall Colonial" in Virginia. It needs significant work, including getting the mold out of the basement. But it's good space, good bones in a house.
Seeing houses like this helps me refine what I want. First, I need a living room large enough to hold a 6' grand, plus with an entry space that the piano can navigate. Next, I want a dining room that will hold John's antique breakfront that I dearly love. Oh, and two bathrooms on the second floor. That's more important than the breakfront. I don't want to have to walk out into the hall in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, and I don't want to share my bathroom with houseguests, whether those houseguests are my grandchildren or adult visitors. (Oh, I didn't mean that. There were no lines to read between in that statement. I mean if any of you come to visit.) Also, good computer space is a must. And good sewing space. Intrinsic in both the computer space and the sewing space is good light. My aging, Lasik'd eyes demand good light. Finally, as I stated the other day, air conditioning — or forced air heating that will enable me to install air conditioning — are greatly desired, if not required.
I can probably meet many of these needs in any house, except the wall for the breakfront and the second bathroom. So I need to e-mail this owner — coincidentally a lawyer-by-training with an alternative vocation — and tell him I don't think his house is for me.
As I think about possibilities in houses, I also think about possibilities in jobs. Today I happened upon a site with contract technical writing jobs. Several of them required 10 hours a week and paid $10K or so a year. Hey, I could have three or four of these positions and make it financially!
With each day, my mind opens wider than the day before.
I've got airline reservations to return to Y'town for the July 27th public memorial service for Bob Fitzer. I wonder how many more reservations I'll make before I don't have to fly there any more?!
And Happy Fourth Birthday today to our little Ridley, my little cutie pie.
Monday, May 28, 2007
My Daily Life, in one post!
My lifelong friend Gail sent this to me, and I just had to share it with you. Every woman over 50 who is reading this understands and is laughing out loud and shaking her head. The rest of you think it's a myth. Trust me, it's not!
Recently, I was diagnosed with A.A.A.D.D. - Age Activated Attention Deficit Disorder.
This is how it manifests:
I decide to water my garden.
As I turn on the hose in the driveway, I look over at my car and decide it needs washing.
As I start toward the garage, I notice mail on the porch table that I brought up from the mail box earlier.
I decide to go through the mail before I wash the car.
I lay my car keys on the table, put the junk mail in the garbage can under the table, and notice that the can is full.
So, I decide to put the bills back on the table and take out the garbage first.
But then I think, since I'm going to be near the mailbox when I take out the garbage anyway, I may as well pay the bills first.
I take my check book off the table, and see that there is only 1 check left.
My extra checks are in my desk in the study, so I go inside the house to my desk where I find the can of Coke I'd been drinking.
I'm going to look for my checks, but first I need to push the Coke aside so that I don't accidentally knock it over.
The Coke is getting warm, and I decide to put it in the refrigerator to keep it cold.
As I head toward the kitchen with the Coke, a vase of flowers on the counter catches my eye--they need water.
I put the Coke on the counter and discover my reading glasses that I've been searching for all morning.
I decide I better put them back on my desk, but first I'm going to water the flowers.
I set the glasses back down on the counter, fill a container with water and suddenly spot the TV remote. Someone left it on the kitchen table.
I realize that tonight when we go to watch TV, I'll be looking for the remote, but I won't remember that it's on the kitchen table, so I decide to put it back in the den where it belongs, but first I'll water the flowers.
I pour some water in the flowers, but quite a bit of it spills on the floor.
So, I set the remote back on the table, get some towels and wipe up the spill.
Then, I head down the hall trying to remember what I was planning to do.
At the end of the day:
- The car isn't washed
- The bills aren't paid
- There is a warm can of Coke sitting on the counter
- The flowers don't have enough water,
- There is still only 1 check in my check book,
- I can't find the remote,
- I can't find my glasses,
- And I don't remember what I did with the car keys.
Then, when I try to figure out why nothing got done today, I'm really baffled because I know I was busy all damn day, and I'm really tired.
I realize this is a serious problem, and I'll try to get some help for it, but first I'll check my e-mail. . .
Don't laugh -- if this isn't you yet, your day is coming!
Recently, I was diagnosed with A.A.A.D.D. - Age Activated Attention Deficit Disorder.
This is how it manifests:
I decide to water my garden.
As I turn on the hose in the driveway, I look over at my car and decide it needs washing.
As I start toward the garage, I notice mail on the porch table that I brought up from the mail box earlier.
I decide to go through the mail before I wash the car.
I lay my car keys on the table, put the junk mail in the garbage can under the table, and notice that the can is full.
So, I decide to put the bills back on the table and take out the garbage first.
But then I think, since I'm going to be near the mailbox when I take out the garbage anyway, I may as well pay the bills first.
I take my check book off the table, and see that there is only 1 check left.
My extra checks are in my desk in the study, so I go inside the house to my desk where I find the can of Coke I'd been drinking.
I'm going to look for my checks, but first I need to push the Coke aside so that I don't accidentally knock it over.
The Coke is getting warm, and I decide to put it in the refrigerator to keep it cold.
As I head toward the kitchen with the Coke, a vase of flowers on the counter catches my eye--they need water.
I put the Coke on the counter and discover my reading glasses that I've been searching for all morning.
I decide I better put them back on my desk, but first I'm going to water the flowers.
I set the glasses back down on the counter, fill a container with water and suddenly spot the TV remote. Someone left it on the kitchen table.
I realize that tonight when we go to watch TV, I'll be looking for the remote, but I won't remember that it's on the kitchen table, so I decide to put it back in the den where it belongs, but first I'll water the flowers.
I pour some water in the flowers, but quite a bit of it spills on the floor.
So, I set the remote back on the table, get some towels and wipe up the spill.
Then, I head down the hall trying to remember what I was planning to do.
At the end of the day:
- The car isn't washed
- The bills aren't paid
- There is a warm can of Coke sitting on the counter
- The flowers don't have enough water,
- There is still only 1 check in my check book,
- I can't find the remote,
- I can't find my glasses,
- And I don't remember what I did with the car keys.
Then, when I try to figure out why nothing got done today, I'm really baffled because I know I was busy all damn day, and I'm really tired.
I realize this is a serious problem, and I'll try to get some help for it, but first I'll check my e-mail. . .
Don't laugh -- if this isn't you yet, your day is coming!
Passes and Glasses
Any longtime reader here knows I simply can't understand why there isn't a man who can recognize what a find I am and who wants to have me in his life.
Yesterday as I was navigating Security at the Pittsburgh airport, this cute agent looked me up and down, and teased me about the reading glasses balanced on my head and the sunglasses hanging from the neck of my t-shirt. He said, "You know, men seldom make passes at girls who wear glasses." I laughed and responded, "Maybe that's my problem."
His lighthearted comment kept me grinning throughout my long trip back to Tucson.
Oh, did I tell you I was supposed to have coffee in the airport with a man from Pittsburgh? Well, he was a no-show. Go figure. Didn't answer my confirming call as I was driving down; never returned my call; no e-mail this morning explaining the absence. I even searched his name in the Pittsburgh paper this morning to see if he had been in a horrific motorcycle accident. Nope.
His loss.
Yesterday as I was navigating Security at the Pittsburgh airport, this cute agent looked me up and down, and teased me about the reading glasses balanced on my head and the sunglasses hanging from the neck of my t-shirt. He said, "You know, men seldom make passes at girls who wear glasses." I laughed and responded, "Maybe that's my problem."
His lighthearted comment kept me grinning throughout my long trip back to Tucson.
Oh, did I tell you I was supposed to have coffee in the airport with a man from Pittsburgh? Well, he was a no-show. Go figure. Didn't answer my confirming call as I was driving down; never returned my call; no e-mail this morning explaining the absence. I even searched his name in the Pittsburgh paper this morning to see if he had been in a horrific motorcycle accident. Nope.
His loss.
Compliments from One's Children
Any motivated, committed parent knows you spend a lot of years encouraging your children, finding things about which to compliment them, focusing on the good and downplaying the less-desirable.
I received two compliments from Tyler this weekend, and I'll probably remember them for the rest of my life. One was about my exterior and one about my interior.
First, the exterior. He asked if I had been going to the gym. I said, no — and that I had just realized last week that I could not longer delude myself that the ten minute walk from my car to the office in the morning and ten more minutes back to the car in the evening was really exercise. I said I needed to get back to the gym. He said, "Well, you look good." Thank you, Tyler!
Now, the interior. I had writen here last week about Unwanted Suitor and the note I had written to him, explaining why we were not going to have a relationship, and the fact that I had never heard back from him.
Tyler knew only about the initial contact from this man and the fact that it might develop into employment in Cleveland. He asked if there was anything further to that story, and I mentioned that it was the strangest "employment" conversation I had ever had. He wanted to know more, and laughed harder at every little tidbit I told him. Of course, after the children were in bed that night, he wanted me to tell Jaci the story. I did, then read to them the note I had written to Unwanted Suitor.
The next morning, he said to me, "That note was very generous."
Thank you again, Tyler.
And today's Real Simple daily thought:
May 28, 2007
Whoever one is, and wherever one is, one is always in the wrong if one is rude.
— Maurice Baring
I received two compliments from Tyler this weekend, and I'll probably remember them for the rest of my life. One was about my exterior and one about my interior.
First, the exterior. He asked if I had been going to the gym. I said, no — and that I had just realized last week that I could not longer delude myself that the ten minute walk from my car to the office in the morning and ten more minutes back to the car in the evening was really exercise. I said I needed to get back to the gym. He said, "Well, you look good." Thank you, Tyler!
Now, the interior. I had writen here last week about Unwanted Suitor and the note I had written to him, explaining why we were not going to have a relationship, and the fact that I had never heard back from him.
Tyler knew only about the initial contact from this man and the fact that it might develop into employment in Cleveland. He asked if there was anything further to that story, and I mentioned that it was the strangest "employment" conversation I had ever had. He wanted to know more, and laughed harder at every little tidbit I told him. Of course, after the children were in bed that night, he wanted me to tell Jaci the story. I did, then read to them the note I had written to Unwanted Suitor.
The next morning, he said to me, "That note was very generous."
Thank you again, Tyler.
And today's Real Simple daily thought:
May 28, 2007
Whoever one is, and wherever one is, one is always in the wrong if one is rude.
— Maurice Baring
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