Me: He didn't even put the litter box back..
Lindsey: He what? (Distractedly looking up from her computer)
Me: He didn't put the litter box back when he finished!
Lindsey: (Stops and looks up, gravely) What. In. The. Hell. Bruce.
Bruce came to install our new cable today. We still don't have Internet.
What in the hell, Bruce?
Real post as soon as we do, happy new year!
Monday, December 31, 2012
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Target Tour of North America
I have a mild shopping problem. It's a problem because I cannot stop doing it. I buy clothes like it is my job, but it works backward in that I have to pay people, and they are not paying me. As I am under paid for the job I am currently doing, this is a particularly difficult issue where my check book is concerned.
Recently, however, I have been better about this. I have done less shopping and more bill paying... yada, yada, yada, responsibility. Boo.
When my sister was in town for the holidays we took a little trip to the friendly neighborhood Target, and there, I saw The Dress. I wanted it, I needed it, I had to have it. But, responsible Lindsey decided to wait to buy it, because you know, money doesn't grow on trees and all. I couldn't stop thinking about it though. This was made worse by the fact that my sister went out and bought it for herself the next day. I was now obsessed. She had it, and that meant that I needed it even more than I originally did. And I have a rule that if you see something you want at a store and you are still thinking about it 24 hours later, you are allowed, by shopping law, to go back and get it.. So Christmas Eve morning before beginning the 45 minute drive to my parents house, I went to the Target by my house and bought it, without trying it on, of course. I was dismayed at the discovery that my normal size was just a wee bit too short. And, being the classy respectable girl that I am, I couldn't go traipsing about town in a dress that showed way more than the world was ready to see.
So, I returned the dress and planned to re-purchase it in a larger size. Except the Target by my Mom's house could not provide me in a green dress in the correct size. Thus, the Target Tour of North America began.
Ok, so it was really just the county I live in, not all of North America, but at that moment, I vowed that I would visit every Target I physically could, in order to get my hands on this dress. I already had a whole outfit planned and I was unwilling to compromise that I needed to be wearing it as soon as possible.
I struck out at the next Target, and the next one... and the next one.
4 Targets in under and hour, and not one location had this dress. Obviously, it was Christmas and the dress was green, and everyone probably bought it to wear festively. But, I would argue that those of us who want the dress for year long usage, not just holiday jollies, should take precedence.
The next morning I went to one last Target, 30 minutes north of my house, clinging to a shred of hope that victory would in fact be mine.
It was not. Victory, nor the dress, were mine. Sigh.
Here's the real kicker-
When I returned the dress initially and I could not find it in green, I bought it anyway... in white.
So, the entire time I spent looking for said green dress, the dress I so desperately needed and could not possibly live without, I already owned... basically.
Conversation I had with my sister (who in fact has the dress in green, but not in the size I need otherwise I probably would have stolen it from her before she left):
Me: They don't have it in green... Only in white.
Shannon: That sucks.
Me: I'm going to buy it in white. I feel like I need it.
Shannon: Ok.
Me: If I find it in green, I can return it. Or... Do I need it in two colors?
Shannon: (Silently makes a face that indicates I am ridiculous.)
Me: (Staring back, daring her to tell me I didn't need the dress in green if I already have it in white.)
Shannon: Of course you need it in two colors.
Me: That's what I thought.
Obviously, I am not the only one with a shopping problem.
Recently, however, I have been better about this. I have done less shopping and more bill paying... yada, yada, yada, responsibility. Boo.
When my sister was in town for the holidays we took a little trip to the friendly neighborhood Target, and there, I saw The Dress. I wanted it, I needed it, I had to have it. But, responsible Lindsey decided to wait to buy it, because you know, money doesn't grow on trees and all. I couldn't stop thinking about it though. This was made worse by the fact that my sister went out and bought it for herself the next day. I was now obsessed. She had it, and that meant that I needed it even more than I originally did. And I have a rule that if you see something you want at a store and you are still thinking about it 24 hours later, you are allowed, by shopping law, to go back and get it.. So Christmas Eve morning before beginning the 45 minute drive to my parents house, I went to the Target by my house and bought it, without trying it on, of course. I was dismayed at the discovery that my normal size was just a wee bit too short. And, being the classy respectable girl that I am, I couldn't go traipsing about town in a dress that showed way more than the world was ready to see.
So, I returned the dress and planned to re-purchase it in a larger size. Except the Target by my Mom's house could not provide me in a green dress in the correct size. Thus, the Target Tour of North America began.
Ok, so it was really just the county I live in, not all of North America, but at that moment, I vowed that I would visit every Target I physically could, in order to get my hands on this dress. I already had a whole outfit planned and I was unwilling to compromise that I needed to be wearing it as soon as possible.
I struck out at the next Target, and the next one... and the next one.
4 Targets in under and hour, and not one location had this dress. Obviously, it was Christmas and the dress was green, and everyone probably bought it to wear festively. But, I would argue that those of us who want the dress for year long usage, not just holiday jollies, should take precedence.
The next morning I went to one last Target, 30 minutes north of my house, clinging to a shred of hope that victory would in fact be mine.
It was not. Victory, nor the dress, were mine. Sigh.
Here's the real kicker-
When I returned the dress initially and I could not find it in green, I bought it anyway... in white.
So, the entire time I spent looking for said green dress, the dress I so desperately needed and could not possibly live without, I already owned... basically.
Conversation I had with my sister (who in fact has the dress in green, but not in the size I need otherwise I probably would have stolen it from her before she left):
Me: They don't have it in green... Only in white.
Shannon: That sucks.
Me: I'm going to buy it in white. I feel like I need it.
Shannon: Ok.
Me: If I find it in green, I can return it. Or... Do I need it in two colors?
Shannon: (Silently makes a face that indicates I am ridiculous.)
Me: (Staring back, daring her to tell me I didn't need the dress in green if I already have it in white.)
Shannon: Of course you need it in two colors.
Me: That's what I thought.
Obviously, I am not the only one with a shopping problem.
Monday, December 24, 2012
Smells Like Christmas Spirit
Lindsey and I have decided that you, our readers, deserve a special treat this Christmas Eve. So we've written you a song (well, re-written, but that didn't sound as thoughtful) that we hope you will enjoy.
The 12 Days of Christmas: Revised
On the twelfth day of Christmas, mytrue love roommate gave to me..
12 Tervis Tumblers in Michelle's car
Okay, so they aren't always in my car but that's usually where they get stuck in limbo between work and home. So thank you, Lindsey, for the many Tervis-es that will hopefully not share the same fate as the rest!
On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love roommate gave to me..
11 Tanks of Gas
Because Michelle knows it will in fact take 11 tanks of gas to get me back and forth to see my family (almost) every day in this week of holiday cheer.
On the ten day of Christmas, my true love roommate gave to me..
10 Dollars to take to Money Town
You're a funny one, madam.
On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love roommate gave to me..
9 Sweet Tomatoes Coupons
We can never say no to BOGO!
On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love roommate gave to me..
8 lbs of Bacon
It's okay, we're Paleo. And, it will take us about 2 weeks to finish that much bacon...
I think.
On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love roommate gave to me..
7 Working Cell Phones
Ha-ha. Because mine had a small rendezvous with some water and is now only partially functional. Hooray for upgrades in April!
On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love roommate gave to me..
6 Episodes of General Hospital on the DVR
Five now, since we watched one while writing this post!
On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love roommate gave to me..
5 Golden Rings
Well... she got me Funyuns, not golden rings. But I guess it's kind of the same thing.
On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love roommate gave to me..
4 Spoons from Menchies
You really shouldn't have. Isn't she thoughtful? And so artistic.
On the third day of Christmas, mytrue love roommate gave to me..
3 Target Gift Receipts
Celery, dog toys, and an ugly sweater? Good thing those came with gift receipts.
On the second day of Christmas, my true love roommate gave to me..
2 Maintenance Men
It's not my fault our apartment needs fixing! Well, maybe it's my fault a little bit..
On the first day of Christmas, my true love roommate gave to me..
1 Working Garbage Disposal
Finally, a gift for the whole family to enjoy! (As long as no eggshells, potato peels, or aquarium rocks make their way down there.)
Merry Christmas Couch Potatoes! From our living room to yours :)
Love, Lindsey and Michelle
The 12 Days of Christmas: Revised
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my
12 Tervis Tumblers in Michelle's car
Okay, so they aren't always in my car but that's usually where they get stuck in limbo between work and home. So thank you, Lindsey, for the many Tervis-es that will hopefully not share the same fate as the rest!
11 Tanks of Gas
Because Michelle knows it will in fact take 11 tanks of gas to get me back and forth to see my family (almost) every day in this week of holiday cheer.
10 Dollars to take to Money Town
You're a funny one, madam.
9 Sweet Tomatoes Coupons
We can never say no to BOGO!
8 lbs of Bacon
It's okay, we're Paleo. And, it will take us about 2 weeks to finish that much bacon...
I think.
7 Working Cell Phones
Ha-ha. Because mine had a small rendezvous with some water and is now only partially functional. Hooray for upgrades in April!
6 Episodes of General Hospital on the DVR
Five now, since we watched one while writing this post!
5 Golden Rings
Well... she got me Funyuns, not golden rings. But I guess it's kind of the same thing.
4 Spoons from Menchies
You really shouldn't have. Isn't she thoughtful? And so artistic.
On the third day of Christmas, my
3 Target Gift Receipts
Celery, dog toys, and an ugly sweater? Good thing those came with gift receipts.
2 Maintenance Men
It's not my fault our apartment needs fixing! Well, maybe it's my fault a little bit..
1 Working Garbage Disposal
Finally, a gift for the whole family to enjoy! (As long as no eggshells, potato peels, or aquarium rocks make their way down there.)
Merry Christmas Couch Potatoes! From our living room to yours :)
Love, Lindsey and Michelle
Friday, December 21, 2012
Real Talk
Me: Would it kill you to just go out with him?
Michelle: Yes. Physically and.... cholesterolly.
Me: Did you just say cholesterolly? As in he would actually raise your cholesterol level? And it would kill you?
Michelle: Yes. Physically and.... cholesterolly.
Me: Did you just say cholesterolly? As in he would actually raise your cholesterol level? And it would kill you?
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Garbage Disposals Are Overrated
No, they aren't. Actually, they are incredibly underrated. Because when you have one you can't use... Well, it sucks. To really tell this story in its full glory, I need to take you back a few months.
A few months ago, I was cleaning out a vase that had some pretty plastic rocks in the bottom of it. Some of those rocks fell into the sink, and into the disposal. Whoops! I attempted to get the rocks out of the disposal, but then I remembered that I don't put my hand down sink drains. Because it's gross.
I mean... It wasn't that big of a deal. The disposal still worked, it was just a little noisier than it used to be. Whatever.
Fast forward 5 months, and suddenly (ok, suddenly may not be an accurate word choice, since they rocks had been there for 5 months) the disposal wouldn't work. It just presented a whirring sound when switched on. Again, whoops! Michelle kindly called the office to report our disposal malfunction and we waited patiently for the maintenance man to come and fix our problems. And waited, and waited, and waited. For days, in fact. Then, we received The Memo.
Our apartment manager is a fan of memos. She sends them often, and about topics that are not memo worthy. This specific memo covered a few issues, and there, stuck in the middle of washing machine reminders and door locking safety was this gem:
Garbage Disposals: Please remember that your garbage disposal is meant only for light scraps after dinner. Garbage disposals are not meant for potato peels, lemon or lime wedges, eggshells, or rocks from your aquarium.
Incidentally, almost all of those things were in our disposal. Now, we were concerned. Had they been in our apartment and seen these things in our disposal and then sent out a memo specifically about our apartment? That was preposterous... wasn't it? As we hadn't received any kind of personalized note telling us our disposal wouldn't be fixed or that we needed to pay $8,000 (obviously the cost of a disposal) in order to get it fixed we decided to call again. But again, we were left waiting.When we reached the day before the dinner party we had been planning for 6 weeks, we were a little angry that the maintenance request we put in 3 times, for over 3 weeks, had been ignored. So Michelle again called and forcefully told the apartment girl that we needed the disposal fixed. Immediately.
Shortly thereafter, Ricardo (not his real name) showed up at the apartment to fix the offending disposal. When he heard the sound the rocks made at the bottom of the disposal, he looked at me with questions in his eyes. I quickly told him that the disposal had always made that noise, that we didn't really use it very much, and we weren't sure what it was. Ricardo figured it out though.
"Did anyone ever have a fish?" he asked.
"No... Why?" Michelle responded. "Is there something... fishy in there?"
Unfortunately, Ricardo didn't laugh at her joke. (I did though, because... It was funny.)
He explained that the previous tenants must have had an aquarium and that is why the rocks were in fact in the bottom of our drain. He cleaned it out and saved the day, and our dinner party. Hooray!
Phone conversation I had the next day:
Me: Hello?
Michelle: Hey... So... The disposal isn't working.
Me: What? Are you kidding? He just fixed it yesterday.
Michelle: Yes, it just makes the whirring sound again.
Me: How in the--
Michelle: I put potato peels down it.
Me: Those were in the memo.
Michelle: I know. But... I've never known a disposal that couldn't handle potato peels.
Me: Well, you've obviously known at least one.
Michelle: Shut up.
Luckily, Ricardo was able to come back right away and fix the disposal, and even joked about how Michelle could have just asked him to dinner without breaking the disposal for a second day in a row. (Somehow, Ricardo managed to still leave the apartment without an invite.) We went on living our lives, keeping our disposal free of potato peels and other offending items, and enjoying our working sink. Until one night when I was washing the dishes and the sink backed up. When I turned on the disposal to try and get the water out of the sink, the water splashed everywhere.
I was less than amused.
Conversation I had when Michelle got home:
Me: I have some news.
Michelle: What's wrong?
Me: The garbage disposal isn't working again.
Michelle: Oh?
Me: I was washing dishes and the sink backed up, then water splashed everywhere. Also, the kitchen light isn't working again, and I turned on the air to try and cut the humidity in here and that wouldn't work either.
Michelle: I put eggshells in it.
Me: In the air conditioner?
Michelle: No, in the disposal. Why would I put eggshells in the air conditioner?
Me: Why would you put them down the disposal? It is only meant for light scraps after your dinner.
Michelle: I have a hard time reconciling myself with the fact that our garbage disposal cannot handle eggshells, which basically disintegrate between my fingers.
Me: Well, when I ran the dishwasher it backed up the sink and now there is standing water in the bottom of the dishwasher too.
Michelle: I am not calling them again. (This was then followed by some ranting and lying on the kitchen floor trying to "fix" the disposal herself.)
We are now a week later and STILL waiting on maintenance to come and fix the myriad of problems we currently have in our apartment. We can't wash dishes and are starting to run out. So no, garbage disposals are not overrated, they are in fact a necessity in order to continue eating at home.
A few months ago, I was cleaning out a vase that had some pretty plastic rocks in the bottom of it. Some of those rocks fell into the sink, and into the disposal. Whoops! I attempted to get the rocks out of the disposal, but then I remembered that I don't put my hand down sink drains. Because it's gross.
I mean... It wasn't that big of a deal. The disposal still worked, it was just a little noisier than it used to be. Whatever.
Fast forward 5 months, and suddenly (ok, suddenly may not be an accurate word choice, since they rocks had been there for 5 months) the disposal wouldn't work. It just presented a whirring sound when switched on. Again, whoops! Michelle kindly called the office to report our disposal malfunction and we waited patiently for the maintenance man to come and fix our problems. And waited, and waited, and waited. For days, in fact. Then, we received The Memo.
Our apartment manager is a fan of memos. She sends them often, and about topics that are not memo worthy. This specific memo covered a few issues, and there, stuck in the middle of washing machine reminders and door locking safety was this gem:
Garbage Disposals: Please remember that your garbage disposal is meant only for light scraps after dinner. Garbage disposals are not meant for potato peels, lemon or lime wedges, eggshells, or rocks from your aquarium.
Incidentally, almost all of those things were in our disposal. Now, we were concerned. Had they been in our apartment and seen these things in our disposal and then sent out a memo specifically about our apartment? That was preposterous... wasn't it? As we hadn't received any kind of personalized note telling us our disposal wouldn't be fixed or that we needed to pay $8,000 (obviously the cost of a disposal) in order to get it fixed we decided to call again. But again, we were left waiting.When we reached the day before the dinner party we had been planning for 6 weeks, we were a little angry that the maintenance request we put in 3 times, for over 3 weeks, had been ignored. So Michelle again called and forcefully told the apartment girl that we needed the disposal fixed. Immediately.
Shortly thereafter, Ricardo (not his real name) showed up at the apartment to fix the offending disposal. When he heard the sound the rocks made at the bottom of the disposal, he looked at me with questions in his eyes. I quickly told him that the disposal had always made that noise, that we didn't really use it very much, and we weren't sure what it was. Ricardo figured it out though.
"Did anyone ever have a fish?" he asked.
"No... Why?" Michelle responded. "Is there something... fishy in there?"
Unfortunately, Ricardo didn't laugh at her joke. (I did though, because... It was funny.)
He explained that the previous tenants must have had an aquarium and that is why the rocks were in fact in the bottom of our drain. He cleaned it out and saved the day, and our dinner party. Hooray!
Phone conversation I had the next day:
Me: Hello?
Michelle: Hey... So... The disposal isn't working.
Me: What? Are you kidding? He just fixed it yesterday.
Michelle: Yes, it just makes the whirring sound again.
Me: How in the--
Michelle: I put potato peels down it.
Me: Those were in the memo.
Michelle: I know. But... I've never known a disposal that couldn't handle potato peels.
Me: Well, you've obviously known at least one.
Michelle: Shut up.
Luckily, Ricardo was able to come back right away and fix the disposal, and even joked about how Michelle could have just asked him to dinner without breaking the disposal for a second day in a row. (Somehow, Ricardo managed to still leave the apartment without an invite.) We went on living our lives, keeping our disposal free of potato peels and other offending items, and enjoying our working sink. Until one night when I was washing the dishes and the sink backed up. When I turned on the disposal to try and get the water out of the sink, the water splashed everywhere.
I was less than amused.
Conversation I had when Michelle got home:
Me: I have some news.
Michelle: What's wrong?
Me: The garbage disposal isn't working again.
Michelle: Oh?
Me: I was washing dishes and the sink backed up, then water splashed everywhere. Also, the kitchen light isn't working again, and I turned on the air to try and cut the humidity in here and that wouldn't work either.
Michelle: I put eggshells in it.
Me: In the air conditioner?
Michelle: No, in the disposal. Why would I put eggshells in the air conditioner?
Me: Why would you put them down the disposal? It is only meant for light scraps after your dinner.
Michelle: I have a hard time reconciling myself with the fact that our garbage disposal cannot handle eggshells, which basically disintegrate between my fingers.
Me: Well, when I ran the dishwasher it backed up the sink and now there is standing water in the bottom of the dishwasher too.
Michelle: I am not calling them again. (This was then followed by some ranting and lying on the kitchen floor trying to "fix" the disposal herself.)
We are now a week later and STILL waiting on maintenance to come and fix the myriad of problems we currently have in our apartment. We can't wash dishes and are starting to run out. So no, garbage disposals are not overrated, they are in fact a necessity in order to continue eating at home.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Sometimes I'm kind of a grinch before Christmas
So, I have a theory that after December 1st, people turn into crazy Christmas aliens. Rude, obnoxious, aliens, mind you. Unlucky for me, it's way past the 1st and I'm out in the world trying to be as ahead of the game as is humanly possible for me. I am totally a last minute shopper.. I'm talking, 4pm on December 24th, last in line with my hands full of travel size hand sanitizers and "As Seen on TV" items that I have literally NEVER heard of. This year, I've decided, will be different. So, I started my shopping early (well, sort of). I bought boots for my 18 year old sister who is pretty much impossible to please, Sunset Cruise Tickets for my parents (Whose anniversary happens to be on New Year's... Can you say combo gift?), and pink sparkly walkie-talkies for my younger sisters who have recently acquired their own rooms. But the trickiest gifts to find of all? My friends. No walkie-talkies will suffice here, nor boots, nor sunset cruise tickets. No. Lindsey and I decided we needed to make custom, personalized gifts for the whole lot of them. I won't get into the gory details, but we pretty much came up with the all time perfect gift for those we love, cherish, and drink with on a regular basis.
Anyways, we needed to pick up some merchandise from Jo-Ann's fabrics.. which is fortunate since one just opened up 2 minutes away from our home. So we traversed over the river and through the woods (just kidding, there are definitely NO woods near our home) all the way to the crafting super store and we find what we need. However, there are only 3 and we need 5. (I cannot reveal what we were searching for, sorry french fries, I don't want to ruin the Christmas magic. Bah humbug.) So on we go to the south location, a mere 20 minutes away, and find the last of our.. items.. and purchase them from a well meaning, albeit flustered cashier. From there it's another 15 minutes south to the "special" store where they inform us that our purchases will not, in fact, work on their product.
Insert heavy sigh here.
By now it's 3 o'clock and we've been on the road, so to speak, for 2 hours. We drag ourselves back north to the Jo-Ann's near our house only to realize that we are missing a receipt. It appears that the very flustered woman at our second stop failed to give us one. No worries, I mean, I only purchased it an hour ago. I should be able to convince them to give me the full price. How often could things possibly be discounted at Jo-Ann's of all places? Right?... Right?...
So, in I go. Armed with one half of the receipts I required and a bag full of five fabric items I would never purchase on a normal day I marched my bad self in through those electric front doors and right up to "Guest Services." The very polite girl at the counter asked if she could help me and, my god, yes she could. I in fact, needed a refund, and I only had one receipt but that shouldn't be a problem since it wasn't really my fault that I was missing the other one.. bla bla bla. I think the girl tuned me out. Clearing my throat I simply stated that I had a return. Easy enough. She began to help me and quickly saw that I had made a second purchase somewhere along the line. It was then that she informed me that she couldn't accept a return from another store. Perplexed, I questioned her.. "You can't accept a return from another Jo-Ann's? That seems odd." It was then that she realized her misunderstanding and proceeded to call a manager to help me with my un-receipted purchase. I know that's not a word. I made it up just for this situation.
Now, let me explain to you that I worked in retail for many years. I understand protocal and following rules, in fact, if you'll remember: I'm a "rules" girl. I hate breaking rules or making others break rules... except when it comes to money and I'm about $4 shy of making my car payment this month. That's a different story. Also a slight exaggeration. Anyways, Bart* the manager comes up to me and explains that he will take care of me from now on. Something about the way he said this made me immediately want to shower, but I continued on. So Bart brings me to another counter where he proceeds to take 10,000 years to gather information off of my Driver's License, which can only possibly mean he's going to retain it for his own.. purposes.. and then quite plainly inform me that he can only give me the purchase price at it's lowest discounted rate in the last 30 days. Unlucky for me (again), at the time of this interaction Black Friday is only a week passed, and apparently my items were discounted down to welfare prices. So I get a whopping $4 back on an $8 purchase. Wonderful. I fought diligently, even citing my car payment as a reason why I clearly deserved a FULL refund... but, alas. $4 it was.
This all has a point, I swear.
So, here's to shopping early next year. Early meaning... April. Because seriously? Who actually enjoys Christmas shopping during Christmas? Not this girl. And I certainly don't enjoy being ripped off by Jo-Ann's of all places. I mean, who even knew they had sales? Am I right? (Just go with it.)
Sincerely,
The Grinch-Potato
Anyways, we needed to pick up some merchandise from Jo-Ann's fabrics.. which is fortunate since one just opened up 2 minutes away from our home. So we traversed over the river and through the woods (just kidding, there are definitely NO woods near our home) all the way to the crafting super store and we find what we need. However, there are only 3 and we need 5. (I cannot reveal what we were searching for, sorry french fries, I don't want to ruin the Christmas magic. Bah humbug.) So on we go to the south location, a mere 20 minutes away, and find the last of our.. items.. and purchase them from a well meaning, albeit flustered cashier. From there it's another 15 minutes south to the "special" store where they inform us that our purchases will not, in fact, work on their product.
Insert heavy sigh here.
By now it's 3 o'clock and we've been on the road, so to speak, for 2 hours. We drag ourselves back north to the Jo-Ann's near our house only to realize that we are missing a receipt. It appears that the very flustered woman at our second stop failed to give us one. No worries, I mean, I only purchased it an hour ago. I should be able to convince them to give me the full price. How often could things possibly be discounted at Jo-Ann's of all places? Right?... Right?...
So, in I go. Armed with one half of the receipts I required and a bag full of five fabric items I would never purchase on a normal day I marched my bad self in through those electric front doors and right up to "Guest Services." The very polite girl at the counter asked if she could help me and, my god, yes she could. I in fact, needed a refund, and I only had one receipt but that shouldn't be a problem since it wasn't really my fault that I was missing the other one.. bla bla bla. I think the girl tuned me out. Clearing my throat I simply stated that I had a return. Easy enough. She began to help me and quickly saw that I had made a second purchase somewhere along the line. It was then that she informed me that she couldn't accept a return from another store. Perplexed, I questioned her.. "You can't accept a return from another Jo-Ann's? That seems odd." It was then that she realized her misunderstanding and proceeded to call a manager to help me with my un-receipted purchase. I know that's not a word. I made it up just for this situation.
Now, let me explain to you that I worked in retail for many years. I understand protocal and following rules, in fact, if you'll remember: I'm a "rules" girl. I hate breaking rules or making others break rules... except when it comes to money and I'm about $4 shy of making my car payment this month. That's a different story. Also a slight exaggeration. Anyways, Bart* the manager comes up to me and explains that he will take care of me from now on. Something about the way he said this made me immediately want to shower, but I continued on. So Bart brings me to another counter where he proceeds to take 10,000 years to gather information off of my Driver's License, which can only possibly mean he's going to retain it for his own.. purposes.. and then quite plainly inform me that he can only give me the purchase price at it's lowest discounted rate in the last 30 days. Unlucky for me (again), at the time of this interaction Black Friday is only a week passed, and apparently my items were discounted down to welfare prices. So I get a whopping $4 back on an $8 purchase. Wonderful. I fought diligently, even citing my car payment as a reason why I clearly deserved a FULL refund... but, alas. $4 it was.
This all has a point, I swear.
So, here's to shopping early next year. Early meaning... April. Because seriously? Who actually enjoys Christmas shopping during Christmas? Not this girl. And I certainly don't enjoy being ripped off by Jo-Ann's of all places. I mean, who even knew they had sales? Am I right? (Just go with it.)
Sincerely,
The Grinch-Potato
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Real Conversations
Michelle: What can I get them? I need to get them something, right?
Me: Just get them like, a $10 giftcard to--
Michelle: TEN DOLLARS?! What do you think this is? Money Town? Where do you think we live?
No.. We do not live in Money Town, as evidenced by my lack of expensive things I want. No need to remind me.
Me: Just get them like, a $10 giftcard to--
Michelle: TEN DOLLARS?! What do you think this is? Money Town? Where do you think we live?
No.. We do not live in Money Town, as evidenced by my lack of expensive things I want. No need to remind me.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Traffic Sucks
You know what I really want?
Keyless entry for my car.
You know what is really awesome about that? My mom is getting it for me for my birthday.
So, I scheduled the big keyless entry install date and began the hour drive to the best birthday gift I have ever received. (Until next year when I get something even more fabulous.)
But, much to my chagrin, after a mere 3 miles of driving my car came to a complete stop. Not a crawl, not a slow, a stop. And then we'd inch. And stop......... then an inch and stop..........
The thing about traffic is this: it really blows until you start to think about the fact that you are safe in your car, and someone else might not be. After sitting in my car for two and a half hours, at an inch and stop pace, moving less than 2 miles, it became clear that whatever was holding up traffic was bad.
As I diligently searched the internet on my smart phone (no worries, Safety Potatoes, the car was at a complete halt as I performed this task) I was disheartened to find no information on what was going on.
I imagined what kind of headlines could be causing a serious traffic back up like this:
"27 Car Pile Up", "Fatalities in Crash", "Semi Overturned with Baby Animals Inside"
No one wants any of these things to happen, of course. But again, with the extreme delay I was experiencing, it would have to be something bad.
You know what I wasn't expecting the headline to be? Tough Mudder.
Yep, that's right, Tough Mudder. I was two and a half hours late for my appointment for THE BEST BIRTHDAY GIFT EVER because of Tough Mudder.
Of course, I knew the Tough Mudder event was happening on the day in question. In a medium sized city there is not a lot that goes on which you don't hear about. And, even while scrolling though the highway patrol's website and continually seeing the "TRAFFIC LIGHT OUT-EVENT HAPPENING" flag, I still never, in a bazillion years, imagined that this traffic delay, sent from Satan himself, was caused by TOUGH MUDDER.
The realization that this event, which actually supports a fantastic cause that I usually would be incredibly supportive of, even if I think anyone who would want to participate in these shenanigans is a few crayons short of a full box, was the cause of my traffic jam came in an unusual way.
Whilst sitting on the interstate, 4 pedestrians came up to the passenger window of my car and began to knock.This is what happened next:
Thoughts inside of my head: Holy crap. We're going to die. There are 4 of them and 2 of us. What's wrong with his face?! IT'S WAR PAINT. They are going to kidnap us. There are 4 of them and 2 of us. We. Are. Going. To. Die.
My Passenger: zzzzzzzzzz (That is the sound of the automatic window going down.)
This was my face:
These four face painted hooligans, who were in fact not there to kidnap us, then proceeded to ask if we could take their picture, using our cellphones, and send it to them on their cellphones, which were in the car. Which was a mile back on the road. On the interstate. They explained that they were participating in the Tough Mudder event and just wanted a picture of themselves. Confused, we innocently inquired if jogging, very unsafely, down the interstate was a part of the race course.
"Hahaha!" They practically laughed in our faces as they explained that they were jogging the rest of the way to the race. They had left over two hours ahead of their start time and were going to jog the final mile or so to get there since they were still stuck in traffic. They assured us that we were absolutely stuck in this traffic because of the Tough Mudder and that it wouldn't be clearing up any time soon. You know who didn't leave over two hours early for the start of their appointment for THE BEST BIRTHDAY GIFT EVER?
This girl.
At this point things changed dramatically. Our game plan became less "stay in the right lane, get to the next exit and get off" and more "get to the left lane and hope you pass all the Mudders quickly and keep going." People suddenly seemed dumber now that we knew the traffic was being caused by this event. Please don't mistake this as "all people who participated in this are dumb" because that is not even remotely what I am saying. Plenty of people who participated were not dumb, and plenty of people who were not participating were really dumb.
For example: Non participators who were desperately seeking to get out of the traffic and off of the road decided they should go OFF the ON ramp, indifferent to the ONCOMING traffic that was still merging onto the interstate. These morons were not even going slow. Fortunately, I got to watch this phenomenon for over 30 minutes as I inched by the ramp. Luckily, I saw no head on collisions.
When all was said and done, it was almost (and I really mean almost, because I was severely inconvenienced and I really don't like that) a "no harm, no foul" situation except for a few things.
1. I still don't think it was necessary for Tough Mudders to knock on my car window and scare the beejeezus out of me. If I had been alone, I surely would have handled it worse.
2. How poorly designed was this event? The fire department was quoted in the newspaper as stating they really didn't know much about the event other than that it was going on. Note to future Tough Mudder coordinators: next time involve government officials who can help you make sure there are not severe traffic delays that effect many more people than just those attending your event.
3. I know there was no head on collision in the massive Exit-Using-The-On-Ramp debacle I witnessed, but there could have been and if I had been a car entering the interstate it would have been scary.
4. Because of this, I have to reschedule my appointment for the best birthday gift ever. Alas, I will have to go one more week entering my car the old fashioned way. (By that I mean using the fancy key code on the door, not my key.)
*A note from Potato Lindsey:
The Tough Mudder, which I actually am in support of, despite what this blog post might imply, is an event that supports a great cause. I certainly didn't go out and do anything that daring to support the Wounded Warriors who are perhaps some of the bravest, most daring Americans of all. Please know that my deepest gratitude goes out to the Wounded Warriors and I am grateful for all those who support such a worthy cause.
For more information on Tough Mudder visit: http://toughmudder.com/
For more information on Wounded Warriors visit: http://www.woundedwarriorproject.org/
Keyless entry for my car.
You know what is really awesome about that? My mom is getting it for me for my birthday.
So, I scheduled the big keyless entry install date and began the hour drive to the best birthday gift I have ever received. (Until next year when I get something even more fabulous.)
But, much to my chagrin, after a mere 3 miles of driving my car came to a complete stop. Not a crawl, not a slow, a stop. And then we'd inch. And stop......... then an inch and stop..........
The thing about traffic is this: it really blows until you start to think about the fact that you are safe in your car, and someone else might not be. After sitting in my car for two and a half hours, at an inch and stop pace, moving less than 2 miles, it became clear that whatever was holding up traffic was bad.
As I diligently searched the internet on my smart phone (no worries, Safety Potatoes, the car was at a complete halt as I performed this task) I was disheartened to find no information on what was going on.
I imagined what kind of headlines could be causing a serious traffic back up like this:
"27 Car Pile Up", "Fatalities in Crash", "Semi Overturned with Baby Animals Inside"
No one wants any of these things to happen, of course. But again, with the extreme delay I was experiencing, it would have to be something bad.
You know what I wasn't expecting the headline to be? Tough Mudder.
Yep, that's right, Tough Mudder. I was two and a half hours late for my appointment for THE BEST BIRTHDAY GIFT EVER because of Tough Mudder.
Of course, I knew the Tough Mudder event was happening on the day in question. In a medium sized city there is not a lot that goes on which you don't hear about. And, even while scrolling though the highway patrol's website and continually seeing the "TRAFFIC LIGHT OUT-EVENT HAPPENING" flag, I still never, in a bazillion years, imagined that this traffic delay, sent from Satan himself, was caused by TOUGH MUDDER.
The realization that this event, which actually supports a fantastic cause that I usually would be incredibly supportive of, even if I think anyone who would want to participate in these shenanigans is a few crayons short of a full box, was the cause of my traffic jam came in an unusual way.
Whilst sitting on the interstate, 4 pedestrians came up to the passenger window of my car and began to knock.This is what happened next:
Thoughts inside of my head: Holy crap. We're going to die. There are 4 of them and 2 of us. What's wrong with his face?! IT'S WAR PAINT. They are going to kidnap us. There are 4 of them and 2 of us. We. Are. Going. To. Die.
My Passenger: zzzzzzzzzz (That is the sound of the automatic window going down.)
This was my face:
These four face painted hooligans, who were in fact not there to kidnap us, then proceeded to ask if we could take their picture, using our cellphones, and send it to them on their cellphones, which were in the car. Which was a mile back on the road. On the interstate. They explained that they were participating in the Tough Mudder event and just wanted a picture of themselves. Confused, we innocently inquired if jogging, very unsafely, down the interstate was a part of the race course.
"Hahaha!" They practically laughed in our faces as they explained that they were jogging the rest of the way to the race. They had left over two hours ahead of their start time and were going to jog the final mile or so to get there since they were still stuck in traffic. They assured us that we were absolutely stuck in this traffic because of the Tough Mudder and that it wouldn't be clearing up any time soon. You know who didn't leave over two hours early for the start of their appointment for THE BEST BIRTHDAY GIFT EVER?
This girl.At this point things changed dramatically. Our game plan became less "stay in the right lane, get to the next exit and get off" and more "get to the left lane and hope you pass all the Mudders quickly and keep going." People suddenly seemed dumber now that we knew the traffic was being caused by this event. Please don't mistake this as "all people who participated in this are dumb" because that is not even remotely what I am saying. Plenty of people who participated were not dumb, and plenty of people who were not participating were really dumb.
For example: Non participators who were desperately seeking to get out of the traffic and off of the road decided they should go OFF the ON ramp, indifferent to the ONCOMING traffic that was still merging onto the interstate. These morons were not even going slow. Fortunately, I got to watch this phenomenon for over 30 minutes as I inched by the ramp. Luckily, I saw no head on collisions.
When all was said and done, it was almost (and I really mean almost, because I was severely inconvenienced and I really don't like that) a "no harm, no foul" situation except for a few things.
1. I still don't think it was necessary for Tough Mudders to knock on my car window and scare the beejeezus out of me. If I had been alone, I surely would have handled it worse.
2. How poorly designed was this event? The fire department was quoted in the newspaper as stating they really didn't know much about the event other than that it was going on. Note to future Tough Mudder coordinators: next time involve government officials who can help you make sure there are not severe traffic delays that effect many more people than just those attending your event.
3. I know there was no head on collision in the massive Exit-Using-The-On-Ramp debacle I witnessed, but there could have been and if I had been a car entering the interstate it would have been scary.
4. Because of this, I have to reschedule my appointment for the best birthday gift ever. Alas, I will have to go one more week entering my car the old fashioned way. (By that I mean using the fancy key code on the door, not my key.)
*A note from Potato Lindsey:
The Tough Mudder, which I actually am in support of, despite what this blog post might imply, is an event that supports a great cause. I certainly didn't go out and do anything that daring to support the Wounded Warriors who are perhaps some of the bravest, most daring Americans of all. Please know that my deepest gratitude goes out to the Wounded Warriors and I am grateful for all those who support such a worthy cause.
For more information on Tough Mudder visit: http://toughmudder.com/
For more information on Wounded Warriors visit: http://www.woundedwarriorproject.org/
Monday, December 10, 2012
Which one are you?
So, Lindsey and I really like to play games. It's a thing. One of our most recent and favorite games to play from our couch is the "Which one are you?"game. Here's how it works, basically:
1. Pour a glass of wine. (Or two or three)
2. Watch a really good 30-minute sit-com.
3. Decide which character you are and laugh at the crazy antics that ensue.
Anywho... our favorite show to play this with is the CBS comedy, "Two Broke Girls." It pretty much follows the lives of 2 twenty-something girls who are a bit down on their luck due to crazy different circumstances. They meet, become roommates, and embark on a journey to own a cupcake shop and make millions of dollars. Well, maybe not millions. The reason this show is so perfect for us is because A.) Lindsey and I are roommates, B.) We are broke, kind of, and C.) We like to eat cupcakes. Also, it totally describes our lives minus the part about being waitresses in New York without cars who can't pay their bills on time ever and wear the same clothes all the time. We don't have that issue. Yet.
Here are the characters:
This is Max. She had a "disadvantaged childhood." She also knows how to work the streets. Not like a prostitute, although sometimes she insinuates it.. jokingly, of course. Anyways, she is pretty witty and funny and she has big boobs (It's a thing she says, not just me).
Reasons why I'm like Max:
-I too had a disadvantaged childhood... I wasn't allowed a dog in the apartment I grew up in. I was crushed.
-I know how to work the streets.. I've lived in this same town my entire life. I couldn't get lost if I tried. (Is that not the same thing?)
-I am witty and funny. (Ask Lindsey)
And... I have big boobs. Case closed.
This is Caroline. Caroline Channing. She was rich for a really long time. Then her Dad did something shady and now she's poor like Max. She is super high maintenance and is kind of in denial about not being able to afford the finer things in life. She is also a go getter, which proves to be helpful in the cupcake business.
Reasons why Lindsey is like Caroline:
-She isn't rich, but she shops like she is.
-She is kind of high maintenance, and I can say that because we are friends and she knows it's basically true and I love her anyways.
-She too is in denial about not being able to afford the finer things in life.
And... she is a go getter. For sure. Case closed.
So you see, that is how the game works. We play it often and as Couch Potato Princesses we encourage you to take the time and play the "Which one are you?" game too. It proves worth it in the end.
Also, it's realllllllllly super funny when your character, or your roommates character, has a life event that aligns with REAL life events. You start to even pull for your character like, "You go girl! Kill that rat! I'd never have the guts to do it for real!"
Sidebar- Lindsey just texted me from across the couch that we are out of wine. That's sad. See why we need to be rich?
If you really want to make us feel less like crazy people and more like part of normal society, comment and tell us what shows you watch and which character you (or your roommate) might be in it!
Goodnight, spuds!
1. Pour a glass of wine. (Or two or three)
2. Watch a really good 30-minute sit-com.
3. Decide which character you are and laugh at the crazy antics that ensue.
Anywho... our favorite show to play this with is the CBS comedy, "Two Broke Girls." It pretty much follows the lives of 2 twenty-something girls who are a bit down on their luck due to crazy different circumstances. They meet, become roommates, and embark on a journey to own a cupcake shop and make millions of dollars. Well, maybe not millions. The reason this show is so perfect for us is because A.) Lindsey and I are roommates, B.) We are broke, kind of, and C.) We like to eat cupcakes. Also, it totally describes our lives minus the part about being waitresses in New York without cars who can't pay their bills on time ever and wear the same clothes all the time. We don't have that issue. Yet.
Here are the characters:
Reasons why I'm like Max:
-I too had a disadvantaged childhood... I wasn't allowed a dog in the apartment I grew up in. I was crushed.
-I know how to work the streets.. I've lived in this same town my entire life. I couldn't get lost if I tried. (Is that not the same thing?)
-I am witty and funny. (Ask Lindsey)
And... I have big boobs. Case closed.
This is Caroline. Caroline Channing. She was rich for a really long time. Then her Dad did something shady and now she's poor like Max. She is super high maintenance and is kind of in denial about not being able to afford the finer things in life. She is also a go getter, which proves to be helpful in the cupcake business.
Reasons why Lindsey is like Caroline:
-She isn't rich, but she shops like she is.
-She is kind of high maintenance, and I can say that because we are friends and she knows it's basically true and I love her anyways.
-She too is in denial about not being able to afford the finer things in life.
And... she is a go getter. For sure. Case closed.
So you see, that is how the game works. We play it often and as Couch Potato Princesses we encourage you to take the time and play the "Which one are you?" game too. It proves worth it in the end.
Also, it's realllllllllly super funny when your character, or your roommates character, has a life event that aligns with REAL life events. You start to even pull for your character like, "You go girl! Kill that rat! I'd never have the guts to do it for real!"
Sidebar- Lindsey just texted me from across the couch that we are out of wine. That's sad. See why we need to be rich?
If you really want to make us feel less like crazy people and more like part of normal society, comment and tell us what shows you watch and which character you (or your roommate) might be in it!
Goodnight, spuds!
Thursday, December 6, 2012
The Neighbors
The thing about apartment living is that you have a lot of neighbors. Some are nice, some are not, and some... Well, some are weird. On an almost daily basis Michelle or I say to the other, "You will not believe what our neighbor _____________ did today!" Only, we mostly don't know their names, so we have to make them up.
Neighbor 1: Robert*
Ok, his name we know, but I have changed it so as to not implicate anyone. Robert used to work for our apartment complex and he is, in fact, the very man who helped Michelle and I sign our lease. For this reason he remains special to us. He is also special to us because Michelle has his phone number. For emergencies only, of course. Now that Robert has retired from the apartment leasing business, we still are fortunate enough to see him around all the time since he lives near the side entrance AND his girlfriend lives in the building right next door! (PS: Homegirl- her name we don't know, but I have nicknamed her Babette (trust me, she looks like a Babette)- she has some loud company over on the patio a few nights a month. Not cool, Babette.) Anywho, Robert really likes polo shirts. He wears them all the time. (His favorite is green.) Robert loves to wash his BMW a few times a week and always does so with a glass of scotch in hand. Cheers, Robert! May your car always be shiny and your glass never be empty.
Neighbor 2: Fast Food Nation
Fast Food Nation is our direct neighbor and he likes fast food. A lot. It might be all he eats. When he is climbing up the stairs to his second floor apartment he sometimes drops a straw wrapper, or a ketchup packet, or a napkin, and then those of us who are trying our hardest not to eat fast food know that there is Chick-Fil-A in the apartment right next door and frankly, we do not appreciate it. Until recently, we weren't sure what Fast Food Nation's living situation was, but we seemed to have figured that out... Kind of. They were the victim of a breaking and entering situation a while ago (Isolated incident, I swear. Our neighborhood is very safe... We have gates. That work at least 30% of the time.) We knew he wasn't in there alone after that, but we didn't know who he lived with. We thought perhaps he lived with an elderly grandma or his mother. Maybe a wife, who knows. We've never actually seen this 2nd person, but there is always enough fast food for two, and again, after the "break-in" we knew that he wasn't in there alone. (It was in the police report, I'm pretty sure.) Plus, we once got some of their mail by accident and her name was on half of it. Here's the other thing about these people: they really don't leave their apartment much. If we get a flier from a restaurant or the apartment complex, it will sometimes be days before it disappears from their door. And then when I have to go to work every single day I begin to think, "Screw you, Fast Food Nation! Enjoy your milkshake and heart disease while I go earn an honest living!" There was a particularly disturbing case of these lingering fliers not long ago, but of course, we didn't notice it at first because, as I mentioned, the fliers always stay on their doors for a really long time. After a week and a half, however, we started to become suspicious. Why were they not leaving? How can they possibly be in there for so long without fast food? Why does the woman never leave? Fortunately for us they left their kitchen light on for the entirety of the 3 weeks in which their apartment was never entered nor exited, so we were able to peek in the windows at night. Not that we could see anything, but it was vindicating anyway to think maybe this time, we would. We were getting desperate for information. What if they were dead in there? And who was feeding their dogs?! Michelle knocked on the window on more than one occasion but, no puppy barking, so we took that to mean they were out of town. (Though I don't know how Mrs. Nation can go out of town when she never actually leaves her apartment.) They made a quiet and stealthy return after a 3 week absence and have since continued the habit of leaving Checkers napkins on my stairs.
Neighbor 3: The Elephant
The Elephant lives upstairs and she is loud. Not loud like Babette and her monthly soirees, but loud in like she clomps around, stamping and stomping, and making us concerned the ceiling might be caving in. Initially, we thought she was a large man, because her footsteps were so heavy. Imagine our surprise upon learning that she was a little, teeny tiny, blonde woman. (We ran into her on the steps one day and were flabbergasted at how loudly she climbed up them, so we obviously had to see where she went...) Her stomping takes place at all times of the day, but is especially irritating when it is over your bed at 3am on a week night. And it is not even like she is just walking... sometimes it might be jumping. Or pogosticking? I'm not really sure. The cadence and canter of her noise is perplexing at the least. Additionally, she vacuums multiple times a week, making us feel insecure about our own vacuuming habits. And there is a part of her floor just above our kitchen table that sounds a bit like it might be gravel? Regardless, she's clunky all of the time, and yet her clangs and bangs still manage to catch us off guard.
Neighbor 4: The Bike Gang
These little gems are a force to be reckoned with. They started off small, but have grown in size and are more intimidating to two twenty-something-year-olds than really should be acceptable. They just roam around the neighborhood on their bikes, swerving in front of your car, shouting, cursing (!), and just causing what I am sure is general mischief and shenanigans. They are like 12, which is why I shouldn't be afraid of them, and yet.... I am. I've seen one of them skipping school and when we locked eyes... I just looked away. I wasn't about to mess with him and his posse.
Neighbor 5: The Pastor
The Pastor and his (large) family live below Fast Food Nation. I don't know if he is actually a Pastor... One time his wife told us her dad was a Pastor, so if not... well, it is close enough. This guy is actually pretty nice. One time he helped Michelle fix her car, without her even having to put on her "Damsel in Distress" face. But, he's highlighted his hair recently. I'm the judgier couch potato, so there is most likely no reason for me to explain further why he got a mention here. (But in case you don't get it, I'm judging him for having a midlife crisis and highlighting his hair.)
Neighbor 6: The Caputos.
These are the Caputos.
They are our friends and our nicest neighbors. After this lengthy post about weird neighbors, I wanted to be sure they knew I did not include them in with that bunch.
These are their cats.
Neighbor 1: Robert*
Ok, his name we know, but I have changed it so as to not implicate anyone. Robert used to work for our apartment complex and he is, in fact, the very man who helped Michelle and I sign our lease. For this reason he remains special to us. He is also special to us because Michelle has his phone number. For emergencies only, of course. Now that Robert has retired from the apartment leasing business, we still are fortunate enough to see him around all the time since he lives near the side entrance AND his girlfriend lives in the building right next door! (PS: Homegirl- her name we don't know, but I have nicknamed her Babette (trust me, she looks like a Babette)- she has some loud company over on the patio a few nights a month. Not cool, Babette.) Anywho, Robert really likes polo shirts. He wears them all the time. (His favorite is green.) Robert loves to wash his BMW a few times a week and always does so with a glass of scotch in hand. Cheers, Robert! May your car always be shiny and your glass never be empty.
Neighbor 2: Fast Food Nation
Fast Food Nation is our direct neighbor and he likes fast food. A lot. It might be all he eats. When he is climbing up the stairs to his second floor apartment he sometimes drops a straw wrapper, or a ketchup packet, or a napkin, and then those of us who are trying our hardest not to eat fast food know that there is Chick-Fil-A in the apartment right next door and frankly, we do not appreciate it. Until recently, we weren't sure what Fast Food Nation's living situation was, but we seemed to have figured that out... Kind of. They were the victim of a breaking and entering situation a while ago (Isolated incident, I swear. Our neighborhood is very safe... We have gates. That work at least 30% of the time.) We knew he wasn't in there alone after that, but we didn't know who he lived with. We thought perhaps he lived with an elderly grandma or his mother. Maybe a wife, who knows. We've never actually seen this 2nd person, but there is always enough fast food for two, and again, after the "break-in" we knew that he wasn't in there alone. (It was in the police report, I'm pretty sure.) Plus, we once got some of their mail by accident and her name was on half of it. Here's the other thing about these people: they really don't leave their apartment much. If we get a flier from a restaurant or the apartment complex, it will sometimes be days before it disappears from their door. And then when I have to go to work every single day I begin to think, "Screw you, Fast Food Nation! Enjoy your milkshake and heart disease while I go earn an honest living!" There was a particularly disturbing case of these lingering fliers not long ago, but of course, we didn't notice it at first because, as I mentioned, the fliers always stay on their doors for a really long time. After a week and a half, however, we started to become suspicious. Why were they not leaving? How can they possibly be in there for so long without fast food? Why does the woman never leave? Fortunately for us they left their kitchen light on for the entirety of the 3 weeks in which their apartment was never entered nor exited, so we were able to peek in the windows at night. Not that we could see anything, but it was vindicating anyway to think maybe this time, we would. We were getting desperate for information. What if they were dead in there? And who was feeding their dogs?! Michelle knocked on the window on more than one occasion but, no puppy barking, so we took that to mean they were out of town. (Though I don't know how Mrs. Nation can go out of town when she never actually leaves her apartment.) They made a quiet and stealthy return after a 3 week absence and have since continued the habit of leaving Checkers napkins on my stairs.
Neighbor 3: The Elephant
The Elephant lives upstairs and she is loud. Not loud like Babette and her monthly soirees, but loud in like she clomps around, stamping and stomping, and making us concerned the ceiling might be caving in. Initially, we thought she was a large man, because her footsteps were so heavy. Imagine our surprise upon learning that she was a little, teeny tiny, blonde woman. (We ran into her on the steps one day and were flabbergasted at how loudly she climbed up them, so we obviously had to see where she went...) Her stomping takes place at all times of the day, but is especially irritating when it is over your bed at 3am on a week night. And it is not even like she is just walking... sometimes it might be jumping. Or pogosticking? I'm not really sure. The cadence and canter of her noise is perplexing at the least. Additionally, she vacuums multiple times a week, making us feel insecure about our own vacuuming habits. And there is a part of her floor just above our kitchen table that sounds a bit like it might be gravel? Regardless, she's clunky all of the time, and yet her clangs and bangs still manage to catch us off guard.
Neighbor 4: The Bike Gang
These little gems are a force to be reckoned with. They started off small, but have grown in size and are more intimidating to two twenty-something-year-olds than really should be acceptable. They just roam around the neighborhood on their bikes, swerving in front of your car, shouting, cursing (!), and just causing what I am sure is general mischief and shenanigans. They are like 12, which is why I shouldn't be afraid of them, and yet.... I am. I've seen one of them skipping school and when we locked eyes... I just looked away. I wasn't about to mess with him and his posse.
Neighbor 5: The Pastor
The Pastor and his (large) family live below Fast Food Nation. I don't know if he is actually a Pastor... One time his wife told us her dad was a Pastor, so if not... well, it is close enough. This guy is actually pretty nice. One time he helped Michelle fix her car, without her even having to put on her "Damsel in Distress" face. But, he's highlighted his hair recently. I'm the judgier couch potato, so there is most likely no reason for me to explain further why he got a mention here. (But in case you don't get it, I'm judging him for having a midlife crisis and highlighting his hair.)
Neighbor 6: The Caputos.
These are the Caputos.
They are our friends and our nicest neighbors. After this lengthy post about weird neighbors, I wanted to be sure they knew I did not include them in with that bunch.
These are their cats.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Introducing...
 | ||||||
Age: Old enough to drink, but young enough to enjoy it.
Sign: Sagittarius
Hobbies: Shopping (all kinds), collecting DVDs (Seriously, our living room is like walking into a Blockbuster. Do those still exist?), and all things cat (I feel like that one is self-explanatory, and will be revisited at a later date).
Likes: Wine, Trivia, and Celery. (Just kidding, she hates celery. It literally makes her gag. I've seen it.)
Dislikes: Celery, duh.
Side of the couch: Right
Name: Michelle
Age: Younger than me. Whore.
Sign: Gemini
Hobbies: Borrowing my clothes/shoes, biting her nails, and working on the weekends. (None of those are real, actual hobbies. After a lengthy discussion we determined Michelle actually has no hobbies. She does like dogs, but not in the way I like cats, which makes it a like, not a hobby.)Likes: Dogs, wine, trivia night, going in the exit (Just kidding. This she hates. Michelle hates breaking any rules. All rules, in fact. Sometimes, when we are shopping and she is about to enter through the exit I begin to mock her and then she HAS to go to the correct door. Yea, yea, it's mean. Reserve your judgement until you try it, because it is also funny.)
Dislikes: Rule breaking, staying up past bed time
Oh, and long walks on the beach. You can choose if it is a like, or a dislike ;)
Side of the couch: Left
Until further adieu, Coach Potatoes, we bid you farewell.
And see you next week.
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