I can’t think of any business I frequent that does take a cheque, other than the school and my landlady and the place I went to on Saturday.
The only place I see them used regularly is person to person transactions or home based business like Avon.
Btw, I feel very young right now. Which is nice after lamenting the silver that’s appearing in my hair and the horrible ache in my knee this weekend.
I am hate those ones, I get super cranky if I don’t eat regularly. Maybe bring a snack along for as soon as you are done your appointment.
I hate those tests. I always have to have someone drive me, because I’m too likely to faint if I fast.
I know of a couple of small restaurants that don’t take credit or debit cards, but which WILL take checks. I know that they don’t like to pay the merchant fees. I also know several small businesses (my masseuse for one) which will take plastic, but which prefer checks, again because of the fees. I don’t mind writing out a check in those places, since I’m generally the only one in line, and if they want to save a little where they can, hey, I understand.
I have been awake since 3am, thanks to a nightmare. I dreamt that I was shot three times in the head, in front of TheKid. I remember thinking “Oh, this is what it feels like to die”. I woke up shaking, and have been shaky ever since. It’s going to be a long day.
AAAAAAAAAAARGH! The annual last-minute-shopping phone calls from my dad have begun. Over the next week I expect to get AT LEAST one call per day from him, in which he describes something he’s looking at and asks if I think it would be a good gift - including things he’s looking at for me! Well, Dad, why don’t you reference the LIST I sent you two weeks ago. Oh, you forgot it at home? Well, just check your email on your fancy pants phone! I swear, EVERY gift-giving occasion is like this. He’ll complain that he doesn’t want to get gift cards (which we always ask for) because they’re not personal enough. Because, you know, getting someone what they ask for isn’t good enough if you don’t “feel it”. He’ll pick something completely random and unrelated to anything on the list because he has to feel “inspired” about the gift. And then god forbid you ask for a gift receipt. “Oh. You don’t like it? Well. OK then.” [sad, long-suffering sigh] “I just … really though you’d like it.” AAAARGH!
Mom, I love you, but if I have to hear one more passive-aggressive dig at my husband regarding his estrangement from his family, Shit Will Get Real. Why do you even care? You don’t know all the details of the situation, I’m not going to give them to you, and it doesn’t affect you in any way except that there’s never any debate about whether we spend holidays with you. You actually benefit from it because knowing that our kid will grow up with one set of grandparents, I have pretty much carte blanche to spend all of our free holiday time, energy, and money on fostering our relationship with you guys.
SO WHY IS IT SUCH A PROBLEM?
Testify.
All I want for Christmas is for certain people to realize this: you know me; you know I’m generally a very patient, generous, and caring person. So if you see me treating someone else with less than my typical warmth, consider that, rather than me inexplicably being an asshole, it just might be the case that this other person is not the saint and angel they make themselves out to be, and that they would, in fact, work Mother Teresa’s last nerve, and that given their horrible behavior (which you don’t see because I’m nice enough to never call them out on it in front of everyone and embarrass them), you yourself would have blown a gasket long ago if you were in my shoes.
And either way - whether it’s me who’s the asshole or them -
So fuck right off!
I feel like taking some people aside and saying to them, “Don’t mistake my politeness at a family gathering for agreeing with you or not being capable of telling you where to shove your idiotic opinions.” Most people understand that when you say things like, “Well, that’s nice, but I’m not really interested in that,” it means, “Fuck off, you git.” Some are just too thick, though, unfortunately.
I think it baffles her because she maintains relationships with her exceedingly difficult family, and it’s kind of inconceivable to her that anyone would do otherwise. She’s very much of the school of thought that only you can control your reaction to other people (with which I agree). However, in her case she absolves the offensive person of any responsibility and thinks that if someone consistently insults you, your obligation is to get over it and not be offended rather than to, say, stop having contact with them.
I also wonder if she secretly thinks we’re someday going to just stop talking to her if she pisses us off.
My other rant: Why can’t other online vendors be like Amazon? I’m sure small vendors bemoan the wall-mart of the internet, but with Prime (free with Amazon Mom!), I can order from Amazon and have stuff in two days, sometimes the next day. With other vendors, I’ll pay 17 bucks for two-day shipping and STILL find that they ship it whenever they damned well please. I actually TRY to support small specialty vendors, but it seems like they get less reliable every year. (Doubtful, I think I’m just spoiled by Amazon, but still!) This year’s example: everything I ordered from amazon has arrived. The one thing I did not order from Amazon (with 2 day shipping, and ordered more than a week before the Amazon stuff) has not yet come. This happened last year, too, with one item backordered until mid-January, a fact of which the vendor failed to inform me until two days before Christmas. Bah.
Dear Fluffy Black Cat,
Fuck you for pissing on the bed. Double fuck you for doing it while we were sleeping there. Triple fuck you for doing it in a spot that made me think I’d peed the bed (you may have created the only circumstance in which one is glad to learn that the cat pissed has pissed on the furniture).
Be assured that I am anxiously awaiting a call from the vet* in which, I hope, she tells me that you have a simple UTI that can be treated with the a shot of long-acting antibiotic. Although I have to admit that after all the piss-infested laundry I’ve done this weekend, I would almost relish the opportunity to torment you by stuffing a pill down your reluctant max twice a day for two weeks.
Cuteness only gets you so far,
cwthree
*Of course I’ve taken FBC to the vet. $300 to learn that FBC has no bladder stones and her urine looks clear under the microscope. With luck the lab will be able to grow something that we can treat with antibiotics. Otherwise, we’re stuck trying to figure out how to break an annoying new habit.
Warning, entitled spoiled brat whining ahead, stealthily mixed in with a legitimate rant.
My dad, in all his kindness, decided to buy me a car for Christmas. While the gift is amazing and I’m in no way trying to downplay that act of generosity, he does have his own reasons for buying the car for me: namely, we are business partners and I drive between three states meeting with our clients, so it’s imperative that I have a good car.
Dad agreed to get me an Audi Q5 with all the bells and whistles. Awesome, right? Well, after calling several dealerships and dealing with complete douchebag salesmen (“Well, little lady, why don’t you come on in and test drive this 'beaut?” “Sir, I asked the price of the car.” :D), I found someone who seemed to be relatively straight forward. Their price was in the fair range, so we didn’t even haggle on that end, just asked him to email over the necessary credit paperwork. Now, to put this in perspective, this is a $50,000 car that we are putting $15,000 cash down on. . . so you’d think they’d move with a little speed.
But they didn’t.
Two days went by and when I called the guy, he said the bank needed proof of my income, like paystubs. I explained (as I had on the credit application), that I’m a partner in a corporation and am more or less self employed, so I do not have traditional paystubs. He suggested I send over: a letter from the President of the corporation verifying my income and share ownership of the corporation and some sort of income verification form. So, I sent: a copy of last year’s K-1 (corporate earnings for shareholders. . . basically, a corporate partner’s W2), a letter from the President of the corporation saying what they wanted, AND a copy of our corporate bylaws, minutes, and list of officers-- all of which show I am a partner in the corporation and my share percentage.
Four days go by. Nothing.
Guy just emails me this:
I give up. Fuck Audi’s financial people who clearly don’t do business with self employed people. The only way I can send you guys a traditional paystub or W2 would be to forge one. And tax withholding? I’ve already explained five times that my income has no tax withheld, I make estimated payments. Sigh.
I (and my close friends) are far too young for us to be having heart problems. One friend had to have a stent put in earlier this year due to a partially blocked artery. Over the weekend another friend had a mild heart attack because one of his arteries was completely bocked. He also had a stent put in, and is supposed to come home from the hospital today.
All in all, very depressing.
I’m sorry you’re going through this. A friend of mine died of a massive heart attack at 31. It just seemed like a horrible joke. He died the day he was supposed to graduate from medical school. It seems so impossible that someone so young could have that happen. Hang in there.
Pity it’d probably be prohibitively expensive to ship. ;-/
I’ve been an expat wife for going on 20 years, this current place sucks the life out of me. My husband dislikes his job, the people in this town are not welcoming. I have tried to find something to do but have been rebuffed. He can’t really look for anything until the first of the year after the holidays…hope I survive…
First world problem that I shouldn’t be complaining about: I get a nice-sized gift card to a high-end department store every year from the doctors I work for. Since I have some left over from last year, I have nearly $200 to spend.
Problem?
I want a Food Saver sealer but the one I want on “sale” takes up the entire cost of my gift cards. The funny thing is, the sealer is on “sale” for almost $100 off their standard price, which brings it down almost to the price (about $30 too high still) that regular stores sell it for. :smack: My husband also reminded me that we have a tiny kitchen and perhaps I first need to spend time rearranging/storing/culling stuff in there before buying something new that will need to take up precious counter space.
I need a new work bag, and some cool-weather (not cold, not deep snow) boots with decent soles and a heel an inch or shorter. They don’t have anything in my size for the boots for anything less than an insane price or that isn’t Ugg-knockoff/blingy/no traction/stupid-high heels. Bags with enough internal pockets and a decent size? Also crazy expensive.
My husband advised me to buy the bag and boots until he saw the “options” for boots. He looked and said, “Buy the Food Saver.”
I looked for nice dressy pants for work. None of their pairs of pants for less than $100 had a 34" inseam. I didn’t bother checking the pairs priced higher.
It just feels like I’m “wasting” money, whatever I choose to buy, because either what I want is priced so much higher than it should be, or what I need looks like crap or won’t fit/suit my needs.
(Whine whine whine.)
I forget to charge my phone. I don’t know why, I keep all of my other etoys charged. I got the *feed me, oh please feed me * chimes hapening while I was talking to Bill and told him that I needed to go and why. He sounded slightly annoyed and said that I needed to get in the habit of charging my phone, I agreed, we said goodnight and I hung up and plugged my phone in.
I did cat things (I only have 5 domestic terrorists aka foster kittens left and three of them are scheduled to move out on Thursday), then checked my email to see one from Bill that included a message saying that next time he got his hands on my phone, he was going to set it to beg for food every evening along with a screensaver for my comp that scrolls and then flashes the message “CHARGE YOUR PHONE!!!”
Do you think Bill is trying to tell me something?
Now, here is the scary part.
Tony fell down his stairs and is now locked up in his trailor, refusing to answer his phone. Well, he did answer his phone when I called him the first time, asking if I could take him to the VA. Tony marches to the beat of a drummer who has lost his drum sticks and now is bouncing his drum against the road while trying to ride a skateboard for the first time.
I know that Tony is badly hurt. I’m pretty sure that Tony won’t stab me if I use my key, but he might be so badly hurt that he won’t know its me. Tony doesn’t have guns, but he has all the things a violent felon/disturbed person can have. I cannot call for official help, uniforms entering his home will make things very bad.
I have a choice, I can leave him until morning and then open his door and pray that the damage he suffered hadn’t kill him, or I can dial 911 and hope that Tony is hurt badly enough that he won’t wave a knife at cops who know that he’s violent and mental.
Ferret Herder, do you think you might discreetly sell your gift cards or exchange them on one of the online gift card exchange sites? You’d probably still use a little value but you can spend cash anywhere! Start with asking around among your friends to see if anyone is interested.
To the festering fuckwad that stole an entire truckful of food donations meant for our foodshelf? May you die a horrible death. It’s bad enough that you decided 2000 pounds of food would be better in your house rather than feeding those in our community, but for fucks sake you are a member of our church! Moron! It’s a small church. The powers that be know who you are, and soon we all will, too. Combine old white Lutheran women and inner city black families depending on that food and your ass is seriously toast.
I hope you choke on the ramen and peanut butter.
Cub Mistress - It’s a good idea but I usually distrust those things. All the original card holder needs is the code off the back and they can use up the card online.
I had a good sulk last night, then I gave myself a “suck it up already, this is a gift, not your paycheck” talk and looked over the website again. I found a decent enough pair of boots hiding (I swear I hadn’t seen them before, maybe someone returned one in my size so it showed up for me), then found the Luggage section had reasonably-priced messenger bags, which I’m fine with for a work bag. With the sales that were on I managed to get a shirt and two pairs of heels for work, and those purchases used up both cards. Plus I found a pair of pants that I may have to try on in the store to confirm the length; the inseam is listed as “approximately” 33" for the longer length offered, and the ratings lean towards “too long” for them. (And you can’t beat $30 for a regular price.)