All I want is a big closet....

So...our contractor officially sucks. In case there was any doubt of that before.

He hasn't came to work this week at all. The only thing he has accomplished is stopping by to drop off two of our windows...you know, the windows he was supposed to drop off last Wednesday after he was fired...and they're wrong. He was going to come back today with the other two (or one...we're not sure...I am 99% sure that it's/they're wrong also) windows and install them all today. But he didn't. For a first, he did call and say he couldn't make it...usually the phone call occurs sometime in the evening when we're fully aware he didn't make it over to work. As always, he had an excuse as to why he couldn't come. His partner (and chauffeur) is in jail. But...no worries, he'll be out soon and can return to work. Awesome...I'm glad to know that at least he's upfront about the criminal record of his partner. The other small problem is that now neither of them have a drivers license...although I would suspect this isn't a recent turn of events. Marc, the ever so patient one, is ready to fire them...as am I, except I want the window situation corrected before we part ways. Words of advise...Angie's List, Angie's List, Angie's List....

I was so aggravated about Tim the Toolman that I came home and kicked my neighbors newspaper mound.

But...then I felt bad and went and arranged his pile back to the way it was. Sort of. I guess I should have taken the photo outside to make sure I got it exact. The only good thing about this is that since he obviously no longer wants the paper I didn't feel a bit bad about taking the Thanksgiving Day paper from his pile. What's he gonna say to me...? This pic is about a week old...last Sunday the paper guy actually stood a paper up right at the edge of the door, the side of the door that opens...and it's still there. Freak.

And...here's a pic of Sergio, because he's cute...Cheers!

I want big fluffy rolls....

So...Monday Marc fired our contractor. Fired is probably a strong word, he told him that since it was obviously difficult for him to get to the house to do the work we should probably work with someone else. This came after he failed to show up for over a week...after promising that he would come day after day after day after day after day after day...well, you get the picture. It was agreed that we would get the windows that we had paid for, and that would be that. We wanted to meet him some where and pick them up...he insisted that he would bring them over today. Which, of course made perfect sense...he couldn't make it to the house to actually do work, dropping off windows wouldn't be a problem. But, despite my doubts, he did show up today.

Only he didn't bring the windows.

Instead he worked all day.

I think he's trying to out smart us.

Or frustrate us.

He's coming back Friday, and promises to have the windows with him...and do some additional work. We'll see....not that I doubt him or anything. Actually, I do believe he'll show up on Friday...everyone is off of work, so he now has a ride (if you would like more details on that, please see my MySpace blog). It's next Monday that I am concerned about...or not, since he's been fired and all.

On the news this morning they showed a group of people already in line at Best Buy. Are you freaking kidding me? There is nothing, absolutely nothing, that Best Buy could be offering that would make me camp out for two nights in the freezing cold to get. Well, I take that back...if they were selling flat screen tvs and appliances for $10 I'd be all over it, but since I assume they're not, I'll pass. First of all, have the ads even been sent out? How do these crazy people know what they're waiting on? Secondly, don't some stores sometimes do a lottery? Wouldn't that suck, you wait outside for two nights and some asshole who got in line hours before the store opened got the thingamagig that you wanted. I think that might actually lead to violence and death. And, lastly, I think this needs pointed out again...It's COLD...and tomorrow is Thanksgiving. WTF?

In case you're unaware, shopping is my past time...and I gripe about this every single year, so why should this year be any different. I absolutely hate going to the malls or any where actually from now until New Years. I have zero patience for the crowds of people, long lines and packed parking lots. I'd rather give up my favorite activity and well...I'm not sure what, I'll find something to do. I'll get out my first gripe for the season...

I think it is absolutely wonderful that you ran into your family/ex-coworker/neighbor/old high school classmate or who ever the hell it is. I am happy for you, and I understand that you want to talk so you can catch up. Great. JUST GET THE HELL OUT OF MY WAY. Is it really necessary to stand in the middle of the aisle to do catch up on your oh so exciting lives? Can you not move your bodies off to the side out of the way of the hordes of people that are coming at you? And, if you are in a grocery store doing this, MOVE YOUR DAMN CART. Really...is this that difficult to figure out?

Okay...that's all. Believe it or not, I am actually cooking something tomorrow for Thanksgiving...and other people are actually coming to my house to eat it. Yeah. Really. Updates to follow on food poisoning.

Cheers!

I love Jackpot Swarshbuckler...

Here's a good tip for you when choosing a contractor...

Don't choose the one that shares a name with the main character from 'Home Improvement'...just don't. Apparently, for Marc and I the eight seasons of that show (or how ever the hell many there were) wasn't enough of a clue.

Lesson learned.

And...as for my mailbox, let's just say that there was only one moron in that story...and it wasn't the mail carrier, the post office worker or the apartment complex office worker. We'll leave it at that.

Cheers!

Does the USPS reimburse for late fees...?

So...last Friday (or Thursday, I'm not sure...I was out of town...getting food poisoning) my mailbox fell over. I live in an apartment complex...so it isn't one little mailbox on a post that some kid playing mailbox baseball knocked over, I mean the whole metal bank of mailboxes fell over. And lay on the ground for the weekend. I checked my mail on Friday (LAST Friday), but there wasn't any...apparently, it fell over before the mail lady came and since she has to put the mail in the back of the box, she couldn't. It also wasn't a quick fix that could have been taken care of Monday when the maintenance folks came back to work...no, the post literally broke off at the base due to rust. And, now, I can't get my mail.

I went to the post office on Wednesday. The very nice lady informed me that I would be able to pick it up there, but they didn't have anything held for me. That didn't seem right...it's very rare that there isn't at least one piece of junk in my mail, but what ever. I return on Thursday...the very mean man evidently thought I was a moron. He implied that I had filled out a card to stop my mail...or filled out a change of address form. He then informed me that it was a problem I needed to discuss with my complex, and although he would go check for my mail for me that day he would not do it again and he could not be bothered with "everyone" coming to the post office to pick up their mail. Oh, heavens no...we couldn't have people going to the freaking POST OFFICE to get their MAIL. He then looked for me, and said I didn't have any mail and that he bet the carrier was leaving it at the apartment complex office.

She wasn't.

The complex informed me the mailbox was a special order item, they couldn't just run out and buy one. Really? Cuz I thought they were available at Wal-Mart.....thank you for that bit of obvious information...I'm aware you can't just go buy one, I wasn't even asking you when you were planning on putting the mailbox back, I was just asking where the fuck my mail is. They informed me that the mail lady was leaving the mail at the post office, and we could pick it up there. Umm...someone should definitely let the post office know about that plan. I told her that the post office had no idea where it was and was quite shitty about having to go look for it.

So...it's over a week later, and I still don't have any mail.

Sorry, NetFlix...your service is no longer any good to me since it requires a MAILBOX. And, to answer your survey email about delivery time...right now it sucks because I never receive my dvds.

Sorry, friend inviting me to the incredibly lame party I don't want to go to...I didn't get the invite because I can't get my MAIL.

Sorry those I owe money to...I can't pay you because I never received your bill because I no longer receive my mail.

Sorry stores I would be shopping at...I can't shop at you because I might have received a coupon in the mail which means I would have saved money, and since I just don't know I can't risk it.

Tomorrow AM I will pay yet another trip to the post office and this time I will not be leaving until they give me my mail. What secret spot is my mail lady hiding it in that no one else can seem to locate...? They better figure it out because I'm beyond irritated now.

And...lastly, has anyone heard of this? http://secondlife.com/ I have never heard of this before, but they were talking about it on the radio and I now am intrigued...it sounds like The Sims (which I can no longer play....), and I must check it out.

Cheers!

Why don't you just go find a contractor...?

A note to managers of fast food restaurants...
When selecting what employee should be on drive thru duty each shift you should probably not choose the employee that talks like their mouth is full of shit. I'm going to guess that this particular employee has issues at the counter inside of the store, put them on the drive thru which can make any person sound like Charlie Brown's teacher is not a good mix. Just a suggestion.

Seriously...what's with this?

And, let me add that the larger papers are hiding several smaller papers so you're still not getting the full picture. I just don't understand who my fucktard of a neighbor thinks is going to pick these up. I'm gonna guess that the Indy Star will not send someone over to do it. But I'm tempted to call and ask.

So...I received what I am assuming is a telemarketing phone call today. This same number has called the past two days, today I answered it. I get a recording that is midsentence telling me to call an 800 number and ask for a certain person. I do so just because I want them to quit calling me and I'm ready to rip them a new one. Of course, when I call I get another recording...this one tells me that their office is closed on Fridays. WTF? Why are you freaking calling me on Friday if your office is closed? Shouldn't you change the set up of the automatic dialer?

And...here's Sasha in a bag...

Cheers!

I want pretty cabinets...

So...Marc and I met with another contractor yesterday. This guy would just be doing a smaller project to make some changes to a bedroom. I found him promising. Not only did he have a pad of paper to take notes in, he also had a tape measurer. AND...he used it.

Seriously. He did.

One would think that most contractors who show up to look at your house for renovations would have those things, but let me tell you, they don't. And, needless to say, my requirements for being excited over how promising a prospective contractor is have dropped drastically. Of course, another point in this guy's favor was that he had actually done work for Marc before...so apparently, he'll also show up to do a job.

As you may or may not know, we thought that last week we would finally have our third complete quote back, and could then pick someone to work with...and we were wrong. This particular contractor, I'll call him #7 because I don't know his name, called Marc and told him that he had a QUOTE READY. He then wanted to make an appointment to present it to us. Woo hoo, we thought, that only took him a week...and in the land of contractors who were taking months to get back with us that was amazing. So...he arrived last Tuesday to present said quote...but apparently in the time between visiting with Marc the first time, calling to say he had a quote ready, and driving to Marc's house he developed amnesia because he brought with him ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. No quote. No pad of paper. No mental numbers of price to recite to use so we might write it down and add it up ourselves. Nothing. Not even a tape measurer. We then showed him the drawing of what we wanted to do, and walked around with him. It was as though he had never met us before. And, the fool drove 48 minutes to do this. He then informed us he wanted to have an electrician and a heating/cooling specialist stop by before he quoted the project. Seriously...WTF?

While looking at cabinets and flooring (things we'll obviously never need) last week in Lowe's, Marc and I found a book called "How to Build a House" (really, there is a book called this...and it has pictures), perhaps we should have went ahead and picked that up along with "Room Additions for Dummies" and gotten started ourselves.

Cheers!

To blog or not to blog...

Here's the deal (because I know you care...), I'm not sure I want to blog here. I write on MySpace, and I'm fine with that. I'm thinking that my thought provoking insightful posts don't deserve to be posted on two sites. How ever, there are people here that aren't on MySpace...and since I'm sure they are just dying to read what I have to say, that perhaps I might. Or not. I'm undecided. So...this may or may not be the only entry this blog receives.
Cheers!