I haven't had much of a chance to document the randomness happening in my life lately, which is terribly sad. I know I won't remember a lot of gems to share with the world.
One that comes to mind, though, is during the week or shenanigans outside my house...because I was trying to do yard work. I'm not an outdoor enthusiast, or one for manual labor, or really sweating in general. But, being a single head-of-household person, I had to "man-up". The first incident I will share includes one of my dogs, you might remember me saying I had dachshunds. They are trouble.
I had them off-leash because they were being good...until I started sawing off a branch from one of our trees. Lexie, the big one, took advantage of the opportunity and bolted off. It's 5:30 on a weekday. Families are out walking with their kids. I don't think long enough to drop the saw, so I have it in-tow as I chase Lex through the neighborhood. People were staring, which got my attention, and I realized I was waving the saw around in the air like it was a prize. I proceeded to add to my requests for Lex's return to, "QUIT MAKING ME LOOK CRAZY!" I got plenty of laughs. And less trick-or-treaters this year than any year before...
Monday, December 3, 2012
Thursday, September 15, 2011
You say "obsessed" like it's a bad thing.
It's been a while since I've shared any randomness. Not that anyone is following this blog, but I know one day people will and they'll be like, where did she go? Well, I've been working - a lot. I'm in the creative field, so there are some weeks I'll go MIA for a project that requires all of my time when I should be sleeping and eating. I love what I do.
So the blog that inspired me to start chronicling my random times had a post one day about how the writer ran across a huge metal chicken in a homegoods store and purchased the 6 foot glorious beast and named it Beyonce'. Ever since then, my life has been changed. I long for a Beyonce' of my own, but I have not been able to find one. However, tomorrow I'm making a pit stop on my little weekend get-away to try to find one and I am so excited! The guy I'm dating for some reason took offense when I said I couldn't wait til tomorrow...to Beyonce' shop (I will be seeing him, too, afterwards). Apparently, I'm "obsessed with Beyonces"...and he says it like it's bad. I don't see the problem! So many people are obsessed with things like drugs, alcohol, or YES! dancing until they pass out, but not me. I just want a huge-ass metal chicken. I even made a no soliciting sign for my door that excluded those who might be selling Beyonce' door to door. However, I have not found any literature or contact information from any Beyonce' salesmen...I think the boy-toy has destroyed them before I found them. With not much spare time, you can see why I am greatly disappointed that I am still Beyonce'-less and looking forward to my shopping trip tomorrow so much. I even have the kid excited about it! Monumental.
Speaking of drugs, I have a theory that one of my contractors for work is running a drug cartel. The first thing that gives it away is that he's a small man. Clearly, this benefits him because he can fit in small spaces. He is a little chunky, but I suppose that is from him just now switching to crack. He has not yet had the time to reap it's weight-loss benefits. Tonight he even mentioned catching a guy doing cocaine in his shop. Clearly, he's guilty. I just wonder...why isn't he sharing?
So the blog that inspired me to start chronicling my random times had a post one day about how the writer ran across a huge metal chicken in a homegoods store and purchased the 6 foot glorious beast and named it Beyonce'. Ever since then, my life has been changed. I long for a Beyonce' of my own, but I have not been able to find one. However, tomorrow I'm making a pit stop on my little weekend get-away to try to find one and I am so excited! The guy I'm dating for some reason took offense when I said I couldn't wait til tomorrow...to Beyonce' shop (I will be seeing him, too, afterwards). Apparently, I'm "obsessed with Beyonces"...and he says it like it's bad. I don't see the problem! So many people are obsessed with things like drugs, alcohol, or YES! dancing until they pass out, but not me. I just want a huge-ass metal chicken. I even made a no soliciting sign for my door that excluded those who might be selling Beyonce' door to door. However, I have not found any literature or contact information from any Beyonce' salesmen...I think the boy-toy has destroyed them before I found them. With not much spare time, you can see why I am greatly disappointed that I am still Beyonce'-less and looking forward to my shopping trip tomorrow so much. I even have the kid excited about it! Monumental.
Speaking of drugs, I have a theory that one of my contractors for work is running a drug cartel. The first thing that gives it away is that he's a small man. Clearly, this benefits him because he can fit in small spaces. He is a little chunky, but I suppose that is from him just now switching to crack. He has not yet had the time to reap it's weight-loss benefits. Tonight he even mentioned catching a guy doing cocaine in his shop. Clearly, he's guilty. I just wonder...why isn't he sharing?
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
"Shaved"
Let me preface this with the incredibly overused disclaimer of "I swear I'm not a bad person." OK now that I've lied to you, let me tell my story.
Back in 2004 when I moved into my house, I got a landline phone (I know, how primative). It was a requirement for my alarm system, which I set off more times than I can count, but that's besides the point. I feel like I got my money's worth that way. So apparently, the lady "Stephanie" who had my phone number before me was not very responsible. She didn't pay her phone bill (which almost limited me on calling long distance. Don't they know I gotta call my psychic?), insurance claims, etc etc. Guess which lucky lady got allllll her phone calls at all hours of the day for years? The one who pays her bills and the collectors do not believe is actually not "Stephanie". I finally started telling them to "come take my car!" and "take me for what I have left!" and all sorts of other offers I personally found hilarious. I guess they never tried to do any of these things because they kept calling and calling.
Finally, 3 years later, I got my chance to come face to face with Stephanie. See, when I said she was irresponsible, I really meant it. Her dog got loose at the apartment complex where she lives, which happens to be the same road my subdivision is located, less than half a mile. I jumped on the chance to introduce myself and personally let her know that if the calls kept coming in and waking me up early in the morning (seriously, weren't even in double digits, and I am NOT ok with that) that I was going to take her to court...or something that sounded lawyer-ish so she would take me seriously. I jump in the car, fly down the road, and park at the pool. By this time, my phone has rang at least 3 more times because apparently, no one cares if this witch gets her dog, Popcorn, back. So when I pull up, it is to my great disappointment that it is a kid carrying a white puffy dog away from the pool area, not a witch named Stephanie. This would keep a normal person from yelling, but not a semi-crazy one like myself. The conversation went something like this:
"Hey kid! Kid with the dog! Is your mom Stephanie?"
"Uhh, yeah..."
"Alright, then this message is for her: She has 48 hours to contact everyone she owes money to and let them know her new phone number...If I don't quit getting her collection calls in 48 hours, she's going to be visited by the police...because now I know where you live. It's called communications harassment and I will take it seriously!"
"Um, which number? Do you mean xxx-xxx-xxxx?"
"Damn, how many numbers has she used to evade being reminded she's avoiding bills?! YES THAT ONE!"
"Ok..."
So I thought that was very generous of me. However, when I get home, my phone rings again immediately. It's a woman who had called about the dog just a few minutes prior to me leaving, asking if I just came down to the pool. I said yes. She then proceeded to tell me that I had no right talking to the children like that and that I hurt her granddaughter's feelings. Rewind: where was there a little girl? Oh, she was a bystander she informs me. So I also take it upon myself to be exceptionally generous again and tell her that if her granddaughter's feelings were hurt from a conversation that didn't even involve her, that she needed to be calling a psych, not me. When she asked for an apology, I told her that communications harassment applied to her, too, and that I am not too tired to take down a granny that day. Magically, the calls stopped. For that day.
A couple days later, I was napping on my couch in the sunshine following graduation from a prestigious university that I attended for 4 years. I deserve this. However, it was so rudely interrupted by a phone call...from a local pet grooming location. The lady greeted me with a kind, "Hello Stephanie!" and proceeded to tell "Stephanie" that she forgot to tell the groomer how she wanted Popcorn cut that day. Without hesitation, I replied, "shaved." She hesitated, said ok and hung up. I smirked and started to nod back off to sleep...then my phone rang again. It was the actual groomer. He thought the receptionist got it wrong that I wanted Popcorn shaved and I said, no, that's correct. Shaved.
You know what's funny? A woman that can't pay her medial bills will gladly dish out close to $40 to have her dog shaved. Good thing I'm not the one getting the phone calls anymore. For some reason, the phone never rang for "Stephanie" again.
Back in 2004 when I moved into my house, I got a landline phone (I know, how primative). It was a requirement for my alarm system, which I set off more times than I can count, but that's besides the point. I feel like I got my money's worth that way. So apparently, the lady "Stephanie" who had my phone number before me was not very responsible. She didn't pay her phone bill (which almost limited me on calling long distance. Don't they know I gotta call my psychic?), insurance claims, etc etc. Guess which lucky lady got allllll her phone calls at all hours of the day for years? The one who pays her bills and the collectors do not believe is actually not "Stephanie". I finally started telling them to "come take my car!" and "take me for what I have left!" and all sorts of other offers I personally found hilarious. I guess they never tried to do any of these things because they kept calling and calling.
Finally, 3 years later, I got my chance to come face to face with Stephanie. See, when I said she was irresponsible, I really meant it. Her dog got loose at the apartment complex where she lives, which happens to be the same road my subdivision is located, less than half a mile. I jumped on the chance to introduce myself and personally let her know that if the calls kept coming in and waking me up early in the morning (seriously, weren't even in double digits, and I am NOT ok with that) that I was going to take her to court...or something that sounded lawyer-ish so she would take me seriously. I jump in the car, fly down the road, and park at the pool. By this time, my phone has rang at least 3 more times because apparently, no one cares if this witch gets her dog, Popcorn, back. So when I pull up, it is to my great disappointment that it is a kid carrying a white puffy dog away from the pool area, not a witch named Stephanie. This would keep a normal person from yelling, but not a semi-crazy one like myself. The conversation went something like this:
"Hey kid! Kid with the dog! Is your mom Stephanie?"
"Uhh, yeah..."
"Alright, then this message is for her: She has 48 hours to contact everyone she owes money to and let them know her new phone number...If I don't quit getting her collection calls in 48 hours, she's going to be visited by the police...because now I know where you live. It's called communications harassment and I will take it seriously!"
"Um, which number? Do you mean xxx-xxx-xxxx?"
"Damn, how many numbers has she used to evade being reminded she's avoiding bills?! YES THAT ONE!"
"Ok..."
So I thought that was very generous of me. However, when I get home, my phone rings again immediately. It's a woman who had called about the dog just a few minutes prior to me leaving, asking if I just came down to the pool. I said yes. She then proceeded to tell me that I had no right talking to the children like that and that I hurt her granddaughter's feelings. Rewind: where was there a little girl? Oh, she was a bystander she informs me. So I also take it upon myself to be exceptionally generous again and tell her that if her granddaughter's feelings were hurt from a conversation that didn't even involve her, that she needed to be calling a psych, not me. When she asked for an apology, I told her that communications harassment applied to her, too, and that I am not too tired to take down a granny that day. Magically, the calls stopped. For that day.
A couple days later, I was napping on my couch in the sunshine following graduation from a prestigious university that I attended for 4 years. I deserve this. However, it was so rudely interrupted by a phone call...from a local pet grooming location. The lady greeted me with a kind, "Hello Stephanie!" and proceeded to tell "Stephanie" that she forgot to tell the groomer how she wanted Popcorn cut that day. Without hesitation, I replied, "shaved." She hesitated, said ok and hung up. I smirked and started to nod back off to sleep...then my phone rang again. It was the actual groomer. He thought the receptionist got it wrong that I wanted Popcorn shaved and I said, no, that's correct. Shaved.
You know what's funny? A woman that can't pay her medial bills will gladly dish out close to $40 to have her dog shaved. Good thing I'm not the one getting the phone calls anymore. For some reason, the phone never rang for "Stephanie" again.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Bartering 101
So I mentioned I am random...here's a little glimpse into my adventures so you can see why I have been tagged with this title.
I have incredibly bad luck with health...for years I had something bad enough to treat but not bad enough to do anything serious about...also known as pure suffering! 10 years until I got a diagnosis, which turned out to be a really serious thing all along! Never mind the fact they overlooked it for 10 years, I had an answer and was anxious for treatment. When I do something that's important to me, I go all out. So for my health, I went to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN, which was an incredibly hilarious trip in itself. Anyway, I stayed a day later than expected due to my plane filling up and me being on standby. I am convinced if I had been on my A-game, I would've been able to convince them to let me sit somewhere on the plane. But, I was tired, so I gave in and got a hotel that night. So the next day when I got back to the airport (still 2 hours from home), I realized I had $18 in cash left, my debit card, and some business cards in my wallet. When it was $20 to get my car out of parking and they didn't accept cards, I almost lost my composure and cried. However, just at the perfect time, I noticed a large amount of Splenda packets I had retrieved from one of my many stops...so I asked the kind girl, "Ya like Splen-DA?" and boy was I in luck, because she did! I traded her all my packs of Splenda for her $2 and got my car out of the parking deck. Score! I giggled about it to myself for the rest of the 2 hour drive home and was very proud to tell the story at work the next day.
What I was not so excited to tell about or even think about ever again was the horrible hotel experience. There was this tiny door in the bathroom and I had a difficult time falling asleep because I was convinced it was a secret elevator for a leprechaun and that it was going to come in my room while I was sleeping and rub it's nubbins on my face. Even though I pulled the handle really hard to make sure it wasn't coming open, who knows what kind of secret leprechaun keys there are...I'm not taking my chances.
I have incredibly bad luck with health...for years I had something bad enough to treat but not bad enough to do anything serious about...also known as pure suffering! 10 years until I got a diagnosis, which turned out to be a really serious thing all along! Never mind the fact they overlooked it for 10 years, I had an answer and was anxious for treatment. When I do something that's important to me, I go all out. So for my health, I went to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN, which was an incredibly hilarious trip in itself. Anyway, I stayed a day later than expected due to my plane filling up and me being on standby. I am convinced if I had been on my A-game, I would've been able to convince them to let me sit somewhere on the plane. But, I was tired, so I gave in and got a hotel that night. So the next day when I got back to the airport (still 2 hours from home), I realized I had $18 in cash left, my debit card, and some business cards in my wallet. When it was $20 to get my car out of parking and they didn't accept cards, I almost lost my composure and cried. However, just at the perfect time, I noticed a large amount of Splenda packets I had retrieved from one of my many stops...so I asked the kind girl, "Ya like Splen-DA?" and boy was I in luck, because she did! I traded her all my packs of Splenda for her $2 and got my car out of the parking deck. Score! I giggled about it to myself for the rest of the 2 hour drive home and was very proud to tell the story at work the next day.
What I was not so excited to tell about or even think about ever again was the horrible hotel experience. There was this tiny door in the bathroom and I had a difficult time falling asleep because I was convinced it was a secret elevator for a leprechaun and that it was going to come in my room while I was sleeping and rub it's nubbins on my face. Even though I pulled the handle really hard to make sure it wasn't coming open, who knows what kind of secret leprechaun keys there are...I'm not taking my chances.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Yeah! First post!
So I've been inspired recently to start blogging by an incredibly talented writer. I have no intention of ever being as good as her (she's got way sorts of talent and natural gift!), but still, I'm going to write about my random journeys in hope that someone else will find them interesting/funny/and maybe even one day inspiring.
I'm going to keep details of my life and me in general vague at times because honestly, I have enough stalkers as it is (more about that in another post because it is incredibly hilarious that people like this actually exist). My 8 year-old nephew lives with me and he's awesome. Challenges me on a daily basis to not turn into an alcoholic, but I still love him. I also have 3 dogs. Not just any dogs. Dachshunds. Some days they too push me towards boozing. They will be the subject of many posts I am sure, but I swear I'm not a crazy weenie dog lady. Even though I wear doxie pajamas. Sometimes.
I am a business owner as well as full time cubicle junkie at my big girl job. I love both of them tremendously. I'm a very random person so not any job would do. Luckily, I scored in the creative field so I get to do a variety of crazy projects all the time. Ask me about the time I welded a cake pan to a pole, you won't be disappointed.
I'm very accident prone. I am spontaneous. I am passionate. I am out of descriptors so I'm ending this post. More adventures tomorrow!
I'm going to keep details of my life and me in general vague at times because honestly, I have enough stalkers as it is (more about that in another post because it is incredibly hilarious that people like this actually exist). My 8 year-old nephew lives with me and he's awesome. Challenges me on a daily basis to not turn into an alcoholic, but I still love him. I also have 3 dogs. Not just any dogs. Dachshunds. Some days they too push me towards boozing. They will be the subject of many posts I am sure, but I swear I'm not a crazy weenie dog lady. Even though I wear doxie pajamas. Sometimes.
I am a business owner as well as full time cubicle junkie at my big girl job. I love both of them tremendously. I'm a very random person so not any job would do. Luckily, I scored in the creative field so I get to do a variety of crazy projects all the time. Ask me about the time I welded a cake pan to a pole, you won't be disappointed.
I'm very accident prone. I am spontaneous. I am passionate. I am out of descriptors so I'm ending this post. More adventures tomorrow!
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