What celebrity would you most like to meet in person?

Madonna

Ask me anything

Television Maiming

Everywhere I turn.  Everywhere I didn't turn.  At home.  In the car.  At work. Outdoors.  Indoors.  NO doors. . .

Technology is making noise, demanding attention, and not letting up until past my bedtime.

For me that includes: my TV, my personal cell phone, my TV, my company cell phone, my TV,  my Macbook, my TV, my IMac, my TV, my Ipod for home, my TV,  my Ipod for the car, my TV, my company's laptop, my TV, my stereo, my TV, my dvd player,  my TV, my cd player, my TV,  my Ipad, my TV, my TV and my TV.

So yeah.  I kind of killed my television.  It’s more like I  maimed it.  

I still have it. It still functions.  It’s just in a much more abbreviated version. 

I graduated from cartoons as a child; to sitcoms with laugh tracks as an adolescent; to TV dramas, news shows, and Oprah as a teenager;  to a mindless mass of noise as an adult!

Often the TV was on just to be on.  I don’t know if it’s addiction, habit, comfort or what.  Television has always been part of my existence.  

I know folks who don’t have television.  I’ve always felt very sorry for them. They will go to their graves not knowing who Kim Kardashian is.  

My idol, Madonna, doesn’t watch TV.  It’s Madonna.  It’s OK. 

But when I found out Madonna won’t even let her kids watch TV! . . well I felt that was blatant child abuse!  Luckily for Madonna, I couldn’t quite bring myself to call social services. 

In fact, just the idea of my life existing without television sounded downright painful!

But somehow, four weeks later, here I am existing without television. And to my pleasant surprise, it has been a pain free existence. 

I did rush to watch the Grammy’s last week only to discover the Directv folks had already processed my request to cancel the service.  But it was no biggie. 

Although,  don’t get me wrong, I’m no martyr.

I didn’t want to stop TV cold turkey and endure crippling withdrawal symptoms.  I could see me breaking in homes to watch one more episode of “Real Housewives of Atlanta”.

There was some weaning involved.  In the past few weeks I’ve watched one Saturday morning half hour sitcom,  and the Super Bowl’s commercials and half-time show.

But that’s it.

And I’ve allowed myself to watch movies.  But absolutely no channel surfing is allowed! If the television is on, it must be on for the specific purpose of watching a specific movie. 

The TV is to serve me.  Not vice versa.

There have been some recent discoveries as a direct result of no TV.  The first thing I discovered was silence.  Shortly thereafter, I discovered ‘hidden’ sounds.  For example,  I had no idea my wall clock actually made a little ‘tick tock’ noise as the second hand moved!   The TV was always ‘hiding’ it with its own sound.

Additionally, the sofa has zero laundry on it.  The kitchen doesn’t require a HAZMAT suit.  Magazines and books are getting read. Clutter is contained.  And projects have been dreamed up and/or tackled or completed.

In other words:  Things are getting done. 

Of course, I’m not perfect nor ENTIRELY crazy.  I’m keeping the Ipad!

But if I can conquer my television addiction, I’m confident my ‘Angry Birds’ and ‘Fruit Ninja’ addictions can be addressed and conquered as well. 

Meanwhile . . .

Baby steps!  ;-)

Weekend Binge

I’ve heard that a lot of relationships actually don’t break up over a single monumental thing. It’s those little annoying things that add up to irreconcilable differences.

It's like finances.

It’s not the one big purchase that gets you.  It’s all those little things here and there that just add up. 

I was painfully reminded of this when I got my receipt from a wild weekend of binging.  Specifically, binge apping!

““Angry Birds” is great and all, but for a buck, the HD version has way more levels.”

Come on.  $0.99.  No big.

“I love that song Pandora just played. Who cares that it was so popular EIGHT years ago!  I’m downloading it.  It’s only a buck.”

Another $0.99. 

But it went on.

“OMG!  I heart this old jam too!”

$0.99

“OMG!  Now I REALLY heart this jam!”

$1.29 (. . .  songs that are actually popular this century are a little over a buck.)

“This electronic comic book series has me hooked.  What happens next??”

$9.99 

“Now I know what happened next.  But what happens NEXT??”

$9.99

“This person I’ve never met,  said in this magazine I’ve never read, that this app I may never use, is a must-have app. I must have it!”

$4.99

It added up.

I got my receipt this afternoon.

$45.03??!

My eyes got so big with surprise, my contact lenses practically dislodged. 

How did this happen?  I thought the bill would be about $12.  No joke. 

I seriously planned on $12 - $15 TOPS!  Why the over 300% discrepancy in my head versus reality?

Here’s why:  Zero dollars and chump change add up to no more than $12-$15.

My brain, like most consumers,  (and retailers know this), doesn’t see a WHOLE dollar, when it sees $0.99.  It sees ZERO dollars and some CHANGE.

And $4.99 is FOUR.  It’s not FIVE dollars.  Of course, in reality, even grade school kids know $4.99 may as well be $5. 

I hear, see, and can deal with FOUR dollars.  It’s the softer, gentler version of its fraternal twin, FIVE dollars.

FIVE rounds UP to TEN dollars.   OUCH!  NO WAY!  :-(

FOUR rounds DOWN to a SINGLE dollar.  OK.  NO WORRIES! :-)

I certainly THOUGHT I could deal with it.  My reality is, I can’t.  

Today I’m lucky.  I have a couple gift cards from Christmas to handle my lapse in judgment.

However,  I’m well on my way to over $10,000  in apps by this time next year!    I can’t afford it.  Period.

Lesson learned.

App binging over.

I will absolutely and positively divorce my Ipad citing irreconcilable differences before I indulge another app binge.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some sofa cushions to check!  

Breaking Up

It’s over.

We had a good run you and I. But it’s really over this time.  I deserve better.

When I was younger, it was different.   But I’ve changed.  I’ve grown up.

I’m not that same person.  I can’t allow you to consume me anymore.  Besides, lately your behavior has been a bit erratic . 

Moving in and taking advantage of me is not my idea of a healthy relationship. You ran up my power bill and have yet to pay me back.  You left my car a mess and didn’t lift a finger to clean it.

I’ve tried reasoning with you.  But it’s like talking to a brick wall.  You never listen to me.

And I’ve never said anything before, but, seriously?  You don’t think I know while I’m here at home, you’re out making the rounds all over the country. 

Well I got someone else too.  The past couple of days you’ve been away, we’ve been getting acquainted.  Or should I say, Reacquainted?

It’s been going on for a while.  Several years.  And at the expense of hurting your ego, I have to admit, sometimes when we get together . . . WOW!  Fireworks!

They even bring me flowers!  All these years and you have never brought me a single flower.

You  don’t have to pack up and leave right away, (as if I could make you anyway!).   I’m sure before all is said and done, you’ll be all big and bad and leave yet another mess for me to deal with. 

Fine.  Go for it.  I’m prepared for whatever you have to dish out.

However, let’s not make this awkward. I know you’ll be in town every year with work.  If I’m still in town when you visit, I’ll treat you with the utmost respect.  

And though it’s none of your business,  I imagine you’re just dying to know your replacement.   Unlike you, MY affairs don’t make the news.

But by June 21^st, I’m gonna need you and your stuff out of here so they have plenty of room to move in!    

It’s someone you know. 

It’s your cousin. 

Summer. 

What ISN'T My Pin Number?

Remember that class where the teacher showed this optical illusion about how different people may see the same thing differently?:




Some people immediately see an old woman with a bump on her nose looking down.  Some people immediately see the side profile of a younger lady facing left but looking to her right .  Eventually, after studying the image and maybe with some guidance, both groups see both pictures.


They just had to change the way they immediately saw things.  That was the lesson to be learned from this literal illustration . . . in third grade!


Today, it's hokey.  It's old-fashioned.  It's irrelevant.  And it's not an Ipad so  . . . I'm not interested.  But this weekend, I guess it came in handy.


Saturday,  I was so engrossed in something, I lost track of time and had to rush out the door to meet my buddies downtown.  And I needed cash in case we were in a cash only situation at a private club or something.  So a pit stop was mandatory.

Anytime I am in a full blown leave-now-or-die rush, something is forgotten.  Usually it's my Chapstick, my eye drops, or my reading glasses.  

If my Spidey sense starts tingling, I've neglected something else .  . . important.  I just don't know what.   But I figure it out miles later when it's categorically inconvenient and I need whatever it is I forgot.

I got that feeling three miles or so out from my pad.  I dismissed it.  I figured it was  me second guessing myself.

Wrong.

Several miles later, when I'm at the Ingles self-checkout with a hand full of  groceries,  I scan my loyalty card and I figure out what that Spidey sense was.  I forgot my wallet!

I curse myself.  I'm already late.  I call my friends, tell them the deal,  and back track all the way back home to grab my wallet.

When I get back to the same Ingles with my wallet, I scan my items, pull out my debit card and an unfortunate piece of randomness happens.   I can't remember my PIN number!

I've used this same PIN number sometimes several times per day, several times per week, for several months and several years.

But my brain decides to play hide-and-seek with it.   Of course, I can't will the PIN number into my brain's focus.  

I do the trick of pantomiming the PIN digits on the card reader with my fingers.   Maybe the habitual pattern will trigger my brain to reveal it.

Nothing.  

Then I basically flush two of my three access opportunities down the toilet.  I pop in two bad guesses.   One more attempt and we know what happens.  The bank has that safety measure to block the card after three failed attempts.  

Then all would be lost.  I wouldn't be able to at least  use the card as a credit card.  I'd be cashless and cardless! 

Aargh!

Luckily, I needed zero cash that night.  I convinced myself I had the PIN number at my pad and would simply retrieve it the next morning.  

I tore my place apart. Nothing.

The thought of going through the process of getting another PIN number was unpleasant.  Having to go to the bank in person for cash, request another PIN, wait for the PIN to arrive in the mail, remember a new PIN . . . It's a pain in the ass!

I was determined I would find a way to remember it.  That PIN number would reveal itself or . . . Or nothing.  

No "or".  No options.  The PIN number would reveal itself.  Period.

I did a Google image search for an  'ATM keypad'.   Instead of racking my brain for what IS my PIN number, I switched it to what ISN'T my PIN number.  

I went to Ingles' self-check again.  I scanned my items,  slid my debit card through the card reader,  popped in the numbers I had convinced myself a third and final time was my PIN number, held my breath  and . . .   APPROVED!

I even did a little fist pump which probably got a raised eyebrow from the person behind me.  And like any random episode of 'The Brady Bunch',  I learned a few valuable lessons:

1)  Changing the WAY I look at/for something can make all the difference in the world.   

2)  That little voice that says something else is missing has NEVER been wrong.

and maybe most important:

3)  Be ready way earlier to cut down on the rushing around and forgetting stuff in the first damn place!  Geez!

White Noise

Thanks to a lot of things, not the least of which includes our BAD economy, I now have a mortgage versus rent. It's a cookie-cutter condo. So it still feels like an apartment.  


And I'm actually OK with that.  That's why I chose the top floor.  I didn't want to deal with a noisy neighbor.  


Although I have ended up paying for some furniture choices that weren't half the battle they are now.  The apartment had an elevator and community trolley for transporting humungous items to my third floor abode.


This place does not.  I've had to pay for human movers.  (Although, that is certainly one way to get a guy with muscles in my place.  *wink*)


With the exception of spotting the occasional hottie by the pool each Summer, I don't miss the pool. I certainly don't miss the community laundry. And I absolutely don't miss the rented white walls.


And therein lies the dilemma: the white space above my tv that screams to be occupied! It's kind of like. . . a virgin. It can't be any ole thing.  I want my wall's "first time" to be. . . special:

• I can't slap a poster of some random pop star up there like I did 20+ years ago. I'm an adult!

• I definitely can't thumb tack some random hot centerfold up there like I did 15+ years ago. I'm a grown-up!

• I absolutely can't put a shirtless pic of Dwayne 'the Rock' Johnson up there like I did 1+ DAYS ago . . . I may be an adult but I'm  not wealthy.  I can't miss work because I'm on the sofa in a trance staring at him.

So what the hell goes up there?


A big wall clock?  Boring.


A super cool painting?  Yawn.


A deer head?  Eww.


While I don't have any easy answers just yet, I certainly have a a couple of ideas.  I always have ideas.  And I take comfort in knowing that the white space can stay white for all I care.  


It's my wall.  I'm not renting it.  And as long as it's my wall, it's nice knowing my options aren't so limited this time.  

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Your ATM May Try To Kill You!

You've heard how important it is to use your ATM during the daylight!  Don't hang out openly counting your money!  Go with a group of people!  Go in a public area!  


Otherwise, criminals may seize the opportunity to mug you.   And they may hurt you, or God forbid, kill you,  in the process.

But on rare occasions, a late evening trip to the ATM is unavoidable. Same precautions as daylight  except add " only use an ATM in a well lit area."

That rare occasion presents itself.  You check your wallet and curse yourself because you have zero cash.  

You get in your car. You spot an ATM. It's a lonely, creepy statistic waiting to happen.  


It's lit.  Barely. A couple of lights are busted.

You pull your car in as close to the ATM as possible without scraping your car door.  The idea is to get as sheer to the ATM as possible so a mugger can't get between you and the ATM.

But of course, you can't get as close as you'd really like to.  


Perhaps, one of those pylons to protect the ATM  is cocked out a bit.  Maybe the curb the ATM sits on juts out too far.  Maybe your car door height and the ATM height is too far off.  

Who the hell knows what it will be?  But I can assure you that 9 times out of 10 there will be SOMETHING that keeps more distance than you are comfortable with between you and that ATM!  You have to literally extend everything from your waist to your skull outside the car door.

So you hurry up and wrestle your debit card out your pocket, your wallet, your purse, your Murse, whatever, and do a quick survey of your surroundings.   You want to make sure nobody is lurking around the ATM to attack!  


Once the window is down, you place your debit card in the ATM.  . . .


This is when your ATM tries to kill you!!!

You see in daylight, ATMs work three times faster than at night.  I know that sounds silly.   Yes.  Research proves daytime and nighttime operations match. 

However,  ATMs at lonely, creepy places at night seem to take their sweet time and 'mess' with you in an attempt to get your ass mugged and hurt or killed in the process!


Let's take a look at the evidence, shall we?  Since I am exquisitely familiar with the role, I will refer to myself as the victim . . . poor me:

(1) It knows who I am when I pop the card in.  But it still wants my PIN number!


Hello Mr. Steven Hall!  GOTCHA! Just because I know your name doesn't mean we're BFFs.  I'll need a Pin number.  


(2) Regardless of how many times I've owned and operated a debit card at an ATM, it assumes I just landed on this planet a few minutes ago.


Allow me to introduce myself.  My name is Automated Teller Machine.  But most folks just call me ATM.    Now if this isn't your bank, you will have to pay a fee. . . 


(3) It incorporates evil games and trickery.  It's favorite = optical illusions.


Press the arrow pointing to the withdraw option.  Or is it pointing to the fast cash option? What the hell is 'fast cash?'  Did I just hear rustling over there in the bushes?

(4) It's got attitude.

How much do you want to withdraw Mr. Hall?  $25?  Oh hell no!  You have me mistaken for some floozy Atari kinda model.  I'm more of an Xbox 360 variety.  Minimum is $50 and only increments of $10.  


(5) It asks if I really mean it.

So just to clarify, Mr. Hall, when you keyed in $50, I got a vibe that you were still resentful about the original $25 you asked for.  So are we OK?   Is $50 truly fine or do we need to hug it out? 


(6) It will not be ignored!

So that's how it is?  I count the money.  I put it in a neat stack.  Now that you got what you wanted,  you're just gonna run off like all the others?  Fine. Just leave.  Sniffle.


But at least have the decency to face me like a man and answer me this Mr. Hall:  
WOULD YOU LIKE TO PERFORM ANY OTHER TRANSACTIONS?


(7) It leaves open the possibility for a sequel.

This drama is finally over. Or is it?  Something isn't right.  Just as I realize I am about to forget my ATM card,  I see it!  The ATM never died!  


My heart double dips in my chest and I hold back a blood curdling, (but manly),  scream as I take in the sight now before me.  The ATM appears to have a devilish grin as its display reads:

WOULD YOU LIKE A RECEIPT?