Thursday, July 31, 2008
unscheduled vacation
Wow - these people in Southborough Mass really expect me to work. What the ? so i am taking a bit of blogcation this week (makes you wonder what the heck i was doing on the other 86 days that have a post, eh?). I'll be back posting on Monday...
Monday, July 28, 2008
Welcome to the doghouse
I am happy to report that after spending some quality time with a hair dryer, my phone is now working again. And even though I had to use my Visa for Friday’s edition of the NY Times, I otherwise had enough cash for all my trips to the Diet Coke machine.
Which left me free and clear to enjoy the weekend with my sisters and my mother. I think I may have mentioned that I was in a little trouble with my mother for missing my birthday. Here are just a FEW ways to tell that mom is upset with you:
Which left me free and clear to enjoy the weekend with my sisters and my mother. I think I may have mentioned that I was in a little trouble with my mother for missing my birthday. Here are just a FEW ways to tell that mom is upset with you:
- She tells you. Frequently. Well.…when she’s not telling Nicola how upset she is with you, that is.
- Your picture in her wallet has been replaced with this:
- Even Anne Louise is ahead of you in the “love game"
- Your brother tells you that “your stock with mom is looking a little Enron-ish"
- The silent treatment would be a reprieve
- She starts referring to Nicola as her youngest
And speaking of Nicola…it’s my Irish twin’s birthday today. Happy Birthday Nic.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
One of those weeks
So here I am in Southborough Mass and I forgot to get cash before I left. The good news is I found $30 in the shorts that came out of the wash so I had enough for whatever I needed at the airport that the drink coupons wouldn’t cover. (Y’know…it’s amazing that I manage to get myself dressed most days nevermind hop-scotching across the county.) When I went to the ATM on Monday morning…that ATM machine slurped up my debit card like it was the last bite of ice cream. Granted, it was a little warped from too many trips through the washing machine, but I got no “please enter your code”, no returned card…nada. Now I have to navigate the entire week in Southborough Mass on $16 cash. Which is hardly enough to cover the Diet Coke runs to the vending machines. And let’s not EVEN talk about shopping for my sister’s birthday present [you can have anything you want as long as it can be purchased with a Starbuck’s gift card]. I know I COULD go to a Bank of America branch and write a counter-check, but I can either spend my lunch-hour blogging or running errands. Enjoy the blog.
Then yesterday my phone quit working. I could say “suddenly” quit working, but only in the sense that it suddenly quit working after it decided to do the backstroke in my car cupholder. Lovely. When I say “savemethecall”…I really mean it. And while I still haven’t done one single thing about replacing that debit card, I was IMMEDIATELY on the (hotel) phone to AT&T to get a replacement phone. I was worried I may eventually have to answer the awkward question of why my broken phone smells like coffee…but I hoped to have my warranty replacement in hand by then.
Tech support took me through their scripted set of questions until we finally got to the meat of the issue:
“Do you see a dot at the base of the battery pad…what color is that dot?”
ummm, pinkish? [give me my replacement phone, dammit]
“It’s pinkish? Is that the color you see?”
Why yes, it looks pinkish. Why…do I win a prize? Does that tell you how to fix it? [give me my replacement phone, dammit]
“Ma’am, if that dot turns pink it means the phone has suffered liquid damage.”
Can you dig that? AT&T has obviously been burned by one too many people who have dropped their phones into a toilet. What exactly do you say to that? “Those damn kids, I a going to kill them”. How embarrassing. I am sure I am on some AT&T watch list now.
And THAT is why I haven’t called my mother this week.
Then yesterday my phone quit working. I could say “suddenly” quit working, but only in the sense that it suddenly quit working after it decided to do the backstroke in my car cupholder. Lovely. When I say “savemethecall”…I really mean it. And while I still haven’t done one single thing about replacing that debit card, I was IMMEDIATELY on the (hotel) phone to AT&T to get a replacement phone. I was worried I may eventually have to answer the awkward question of why my broken phone smells like coffee…but I hoped to have my warranty replacement in hand by then.
Tech support took me through their scripted set of questions until we finally got to the meat of the issue:
“Do you see a dot at the base of the battery pad…what color is that dot?”
ummm, pinkish? [give me my replacement phone, dammit]
“It’s pinkish? Is that the color you see?”
Why yes, it looks pinkish. Why…do I win a prize? Does that tell you how to fix it? [give me my replacement phone, dammit]
“Ma’am, if that dot turns pink it means the phone has suffered liquid damage.”
Can you dig that? AT&T has obviously been burned by one too many people who have dropped their phones into a toilet. What exactly do you say to that? “Those damn kids, I a going to kill them”. How embarrassing. I am sure I am on some AT&T watch list now.
And THAT is why I haven’t called my mother this week.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Your sister's birthday
The McSisters ride again. It’s Nicola's birthday this weekend and in true McConville fashion – I will be joining my mom and AL to celebrate the occasion. The invitation from my mother came wrapped as an ultimatum. “The pleasure of your company is cordially demanded at the birthday of your sister.” The birthday girl seems entirely indifferent to my attendance (“I don’t have to pick you up at the airport, do I?”) But mom seems rather EAGER to see me. See…it turns out mom was really expecting me to be in Nashville for MY birthday.
Which is why SHE was in Nashville.
After being gone in Ireland for 15 days.
When she would rather have been home.
But then I wasn’t there due to a misunderstanding [me misunderstanding how much trouble I was going to be in!]. Wow…THAT conversation was fun…I got three “awk Meave’s”, a “disappointed” and nary a mention of the birthday prizes that I am sure await me.
But my brother was in Nashville TOO – why couldn’t celebrating with HIM be adequate [well…for so many reasons…but none that a mother can admit] – What? He couldn’t make it either?? Was it because HE had to fly all the way across the country? No? He just had to drive a couple miles down the road in order to celebrate his birthday with his mother?? But he STILL couldn’t make it? I see. But at least he’s coming to Nicola’s b-day, RIGHT?
Which is why SHE was in Nashville.
After being gone in Ireland for 15 days.
When she would rather have been home.
But then I wasn’t there due to a misunderstanding [me misunderstanding how much trouble I was going to be in!]. Wow…THAT conversation was fun…I got three “awk Meave’s”, a “disappointed” and nary a mention of the birthday prizes that I am sure await me.
But my brother was in Nashville TOO – why couldn’t celebrating with HIM be adequate [well…for so many reasons…but none that a mother can admit] – What? He couldn’t make it either?? Was it because HE had to fly all the way across the country? No? He just had to drive a couple miles down the road in order to celebrate his birthday with his mother?? But he STILL couldn’t make it? I see. But at least he’s coming to Nicola’s b-day, RIGHT?
Monday, July 21, 2008
Moving, moving, moving
Dateline: Southborough Mass (don’t ask).
Well…all this garbage in my house is apparently NOT going to move itself. I guess the first step in executing any relocation is to get quotes from various moving companies. And where better to get information on people to entrust your entire worldly possessions to than on the internet???? Just a tip – when you click on “GET FREE MOVING QUOTES” your email address is automatically distributed to the 4,000 MOST reliable moving companies in the world. If anyone has trouble emailing me, it is because my mailbox is full.
I recognize that inventorying your things SHOULD be a count-your-blessings sort of exercise…but there’s something disheartening about completing said inventory with a guy making $5.85 an hour while calling himself your “move coordinator”. Listen “Freddie”.….if you want to provide that extra personal touch, you may want to quit calling me “Miss Mauve”. And if you ask me one more time if that’s “IT for that room??? Really??”, I am NOT going to pay you the buck seventy-five that you are going to quote me.
Once you finish the “room-inventories”, you get the “all-other” questions…
“Vacuum cleaner?” Nope
“Stereo?” Nope
“Lawn mower?” Nope
“No appliances of ANY kind????” Nope
“Let me guess…cinder blocks?” Very funny, #$%@$.
He sounded very apologetic when he explained that additional insurance coverage didn’t start below $30,000 and while “we would pretty much have to lose every single thing you own to warrant that level of coverage”, they still recommend it.
If anyone needs me I will be at the Pottery Barn trying to make myself feel better.
Well…all this garbage in my house is apparently NOT going to move itself. I guess the first step in executing any relocation is to get quotes from various moving companies. And where better to get information on people to entrust your entire worldly possessions to than on the internet???? Just a tip – when you click on “GET FREE MOVING QUOTES” your email address is automatically distributed to the 4,000 MOST reliable moving companies in the world. If anyone has trouble emailing me, it is because my mailbox is full.
I recognize that inventorying your things SHOULD be a count-your-blessings sort of exercise…but there’s something disheartening about completing said inventory with a guy making $5.85 an hour while calling himself your “move coordinator”. Listen “Freddie”.….if you want to provide that extra personal touch, you may want to quit calling me “Miss Mauve”. And if you ask me one more time if that’s “IT for that room??? Really??”, I am NOT going to pay you the buck seventy-five that you are going to quote me.
Once you finish the “room-inventories”, you get the “all-other” questions…
“Vacuum cleaner?” Nope
“Stereo?” Nope
“Lawn mower?” Nope
“No appliances of ANY kind????” Nope
“Let me guess…cinder blocks?” Very funny, #$%@$.
He sounded very apologetic when he explained that additional insurance coverage didn’t start below $30,000 and while “we would pretty much have to lose every single thing you own to warrant that level of coverage”, they still recommend it.
If anyone needs me I will be at the Pottery Barn trying to make myself feel better.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Baggage claim
I think if we each had to identify our worst behavior…baggage claim would most likely be involved. Something about paying $25 to wait an extra 30 minutes for your bag brings out the WORST in people. And listen...I understand that SIX generations of your family came out to meet your plane…but do they ALL have to stand in front of me at the baggage carousel? I still believe this is where the “C” boarding passes exact their revenge.
The scene earlier this week at the Philly baggage carousel takes the cake. It probably didn’t help that the plane left at 6:30 in the morning…which basically requires you to set your alarm clock for the day before. By the time you get to baggage claim you have been up for 6 ½ hours and are suffering from caffeine-induced hallucinations. Then on top of that, you are flying to Philly…how happy can you be about THAT?? (I mean you probably have a Ben Franklin costume in your future).
So we are all at the roulette wheel of baggage claim, packed three deep, jostling for position and throwing elbows when out in the front there rose such a clatter…I averted my eyes in hopes it won’t matter. Away to the back I flew like a flash, pulled over my luggage and ignored the big crash. [I mentioned being pumped full of caffeine, right?]
And then this lady (and not even a big lady, mind you), suddenly wheels around in my general direction and at the top of her lungs shouts at this little old lady and her husband “OH, SO EVERYONE IS JUST GOING TO PUSH ON THE PREGNANT LADY. THAT’S GREAT.”
Well…what the HELL do you say to THAT??? “don’t make eye contact, don’t make eye contact”. At which point, Mrs. Gabor turns right around to me and in this little Hungarian accent says…"I am wust a wittle old wady, I do not poosh. We still wook for our bag” [My Hungarian accent sounds suspiciously like Bugs Bunny]. Of course, all I could think of is “Who the &#%#^ am I…Judge Wapner? Who the hell crowned me king of baggage claim?”
Thank god the pregnant lady stomped off, because otherwise I was CERTAIN I was going to be in for a real-live American Gladiators battle. Fury vs. Helga.
The scene earlier this week at the Philly baggage carousel takes the cake. It probably didn’t help that the plane left at 6:30 in the morning…which basically requires you to set your alarm clock for the day before. By the time you get to baggage claim you have been up for 6 ½ hours and are suffering from caffeine-induced hallucinations. Then on top of that, you are flying to Philly…how happy can you be about THAT?? (I mean you probably have a Ben Franklin costume in your future).
So we are all at the roulette wheel of baggage claim, packed three deep, jostling for position and throwing elbows when out in the front there rose such a clatter…I averted my eyes in hopes it won’t matter. Away to the back I flew like a flash, pulled over my luggage and ignored the big crash. [I mentioned being pumped full of caffeine, right?]
And then this lady (and not even a big lady, mind you), suddenly wheels around in my general direction and at the top of her lungs shouts at this little old lady and her husband “OH, SO EVERYONE IS JUST GOING TO PUSH ON THE PREGNANT LADY. THAT’S GREAT.”
Well…what the HELL do you say to THAT??? “don’t make eye contact, don’t make eye contact”. At which point, Mrs. Gabor turns right around to me and in this little Hungarian accent says…"I am wust a wittle old wady, I do not poosh. We still wook for our bag” [My Hungarian accent sounds suspiciously like Bugs Bunny]. Of course, all I could think of is “Who the &#%#^ am I…Judge Wapner? Who the hell crowned me king of baggage claim?”
Thank god the pregnant lady stomped off, because otherwise I was CERTAIN I was going to be in for a real-live American Gladiators battle. Fury vs. Helga.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Planes, trains...
Since I am staying in downtown Philly this week, I am taking the train to work each day. For some reason, navigating the purchase and use of my $400 plane ticket doesn’t freak me out NEARLY as much as my $7 train ride. But seeing as I have plenty of time to hang out in the downtown train station, here are some of the more interesting things I have seen:
- Not one, but THREE different people going to work dressed as Benjamin Franklin. I could NOT work in Philly…I fear the dress code.
- Each day, the same well-dressed lady claiming to be stranded after accidentally forgetting her purse at home. I only gave her money the first two days.
- The inspiration for The Fisher King.
- An air conditioning system from 1945…glad I packed the suit
- A weird caste system where social position seems directly correlated to days since last shower. (No speculation on where i fit in, please.)
- The strange feeling that I am riding in the bus again while all the cool kids drive to school.
- A Chinese grocery, three news stands, the last non-automated ticket booth in the country, approximately 215 ATMs and not. A single. Starbucks!!! And me with a gift card and everything.
- One nervous, tall accountant asking that “stranded” lady for directions. For a fiver.
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