Reason Why I Should Telecommute 100% of the Time #942

With the rise in gas prices, plus all that global warming dangling over my head, I've changed some previous bad habits.

I've always been a speed racer. Now, granted, I have coworkers who are speedier racers than I am, but I feel most comfortable driving around 70 MPH. Not safe. Not good for my wallet. And not good for the environment.

Over the last 3-4 weeks, I developed a new habit. Get this -- while on the highway, I drive the speed limit. I know, I can't believe it myself. I really have that brilliant technological device "Cruise Control" to thank for that, because I would keep at steady 65-70 MPH instead of 53-55 MPH without it. But it paid off cause about a week and a half ago, my car got 35+ MPG, which has NEVER happened before (the best I ever did previously was 32.5 MPG).

Continuing with my (hopefully) good efforts, I set my cruise control once I was comfortably on the highway this morning. And about 3-4 miles down the road, some terrible, awful driver got on behind me. To be honest, everything happened so fast that I'm not entirely sure what happened exactly. All I know is that I was cruising down the road at a steady 55 MPH, minding my own business, staying in the right lane so that traffic could pass on my left, and I had NO ONE in front of me for miles. I glance up at my rear view mirror because I can tell that something interesting's happening, but not sure what. That's when I see a silvery-colored pickup truck swerving back and forth directly behind me, crossing over into the other lane, and practically sitting on my back bumper. His tires were squealing and he was still right on top of me.

I didn't get hit. Thank God. Cause seriously, he was going so fast that I would've been toast (and it didn't help that I was driving next to the river, cause not only would I have been toast, but I would have been toast that fell down the embankment). I'm not entirely positive, but I think he did hit someone when he swerved into the other lane. All I know is that a few short seconds after I started witnessing all of this going on behind me, I saw a car pull over to the left, and then the truck swerved all the way through the left lane, and into the left shoulder as well.

So yeah, this scary, horrible, fast, swervy driver being on the road is a HUGE reason why I don't want to be commuting 80 miles a day (110 miles, once I move in September).

Only one more month till I petition my boss to work from home permanently (or more permanently than I do right now).

Here's hoping.

I Think I Might Read on a 5th Grade Level...

I don't know why I like doing memes so much, but I have to say, I've been looking forward to Friday all week, so I could do the Collective's Book Meme.

Let's go:

1) What book are you reading right now?
I don't know if I'm embarrassed to admit this or not (part of me is strangely proud), but I'm reading The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian by C.S Lewis right now, in preparation for the movie coming out next month.

2) What is the fourth sentence on page 133 of that book?
"You can't help feeling stronger when you look at a place where you won a glorious victory not to mention a kingdom, hundreds of years ago."

3) What is one book that changed your life?
They pretty much all do. I mean, I seriously have such an attachment to my books (good and bad ones -- just cause I like trash doesn't mean I like ALL trash), and I feel differently after reading every single one. Also, this was a cop out (but still true) answer.

4) What is one book that you read again and again?
This is incredibly, INCREDIBLY awful and embarrassing to admit, but I have this (not so) secret love for trashy romance novels, specifically of the Harlequin Presents variety. Anyway, because it's so trashy, and because I also am too embarrassed to purchase any of these books in store (and banned myself from shopping online from them), I tend to read a lot of them over and over. I have NO clue what the title is, but there is one book that I have read a couple times, about of a girl mechanic who's very rough around the edges and her brother's distinguished friend who has been in love with her for her whole life (but she thinks he hates her), and tries to go all "My Fair Lady" on her by making her walk and talk like a lady. There's this other one about a rich guy who was originally from the streets and worked his way to the top, but the girl in it thinks he's a pretentious ass cause he's so rich, not knowing of his humble beginnings. I know, I'm hanging my head in shame as I type.

5) What three books would you want on a desert island?
The Idiot Girls' Action-Adventure Club by Laurie Notaro, Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen, something else that I haven't picked yet -- if I'm stuck on that island tomorrow, I'm screwed, but at least I have two good choices to get me through without the third.

6) What is the funniest book you've ever read?
I tend to read either ridiculous or funny books -- they're rarely thought-provoking. So while I'm not definitely, 100% sure it's the funniest I've read, I know it's in the top 5. The Idiot Girls' Action-Adventure Club by Laurie Notaro -- my mom read parts of this book aloud while I drove the 8 hours from Ohio to Connecticut. There was one point in Scranton where we had to stop for gas, and we were both crying from laughing so hard as we got out of the car, and everyone thought we were nuts.

7) What book made you cry the most?
Read above. Also, like, almost every book, cause I'm a big wuss who cries at everything.

8) What book do you wish had been written?
My 2007 NaNoWriMo book (Untitled). It was crappy, but I don't think I got past 2000 words. That's the worst effort I've made so far.

9) What would be the title of your autobiography?
God Gave Me This Sarcastic Wit (so He Must Like It) (a phrase that I often tell my mother when she tells me "you're so bad!" and that the things I say are "not right!")

10) What book do you keep meaning to read?
Um, the fully stocked library in my bedroom that I've only read approximately 1/16th of. Seriously, that room is just books and clothes. I wonder sometimes if there's furniture other than my bed (there is, but it's all hidden).

11) What five books should everyone be required to read?
The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein, Something (if not Everything) by Jane Austen, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams, Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck, and one more than I haven't picked yet, cause seriously, I cannot read that many intense books without something funny and wonderfully stupid shoved heavily into the mix. So probably my next intense book.

12) What book was the biggest waste of your time?
Did you NOT read that I like trashy romance novels? While I like them, they're still HUGE wastes of my time. Especially my sleeping time, cause I tend to start reading them at midnight, and don't put them down till I finish them at 3-4 AM.

13) What was your favorite book as a child?
The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein (I really, totally heart Shel), and also possibly The Sneetches by Dr. Seuss. I actually recently bought The Sneetches for my niece, and ended up keeping it for myself and reading it aloud to the Guy. He did NOT seem to appreciate it.

14) What book have you read the most?
Sadly, those stupid trashy romances ones I mentioned. They only take a couple hours to read, so they're probably some of the only books I've ever read more than once, other than children's books. Otherwise, I tend to read and move on to the next one.

15) Is there any book's ending that you would like to rewrite? What would you change about the original ending?
I don't even think I can answer this, cause for probably one in every five books I read, I want to change the ending. I'm a hopeless romantic (hello, trashy romance novels, ANYONE?), and I really can't stand when true love doesn't conquer all in the end. But it happens often. Those books, yeah, I would rewrite those endings.

Pretention

So a site was passed from someone named Anna to Abigail at the Collective, and well, I stole it from over there.

What is Stephen Harper reading?

Part of me thinks that Yann Martel is a pretentious ass, possibly cause he has written at least one best-selling novel.* But the concept of someone wishing to "educate" the Prime Minister of Canada on the arts, well, that just takes moxie, my friends, and I have to respect that. It seems like a pretty cool website, so check it out when you get bored at work. And needless to say, I think I might find my way over to the local library so I can start reading along too.


*I have not read Yann Martel's novel(s), so he could have more best-sellers. Also, for all I know, he could have been a pretentious ass prior to ever writing anything. There's a very strong possibility of that.

The Day of the Car

Yesterday morning started like any other weekday. I got up, got ready, and headed off to work. But before 8 AM, things were a little different. At the stop sign right before my highway entrance, I got bumped. Some girl bumped my bumper. Thankfully, I was stopped and she was just rolling up to the stop sign, so needless to say, there's just a little ding in my car -- not even a dent. It's all cosmetic damage. Highly uneventful for a car accident really -- hardly worth mentioning. Except for it being the Day of the Car, and all.

See, cause not only was it my accident day, but it was also the day my mom went to go pick up her brand new Subaru Impreza. Recent car troubles with the Phantom made the new car kind of necessary, so she ended up getting the Impreza for it's all-wheel drive capability.

It was fun driving her car around last night (for the whole 5 miles I drove it). It handled nicely, it really zooms with just the lightest touch, and oh my gosh, there's no blind spots like the Phantom! But that's not my favorite part about the car.

You see, cause up until yesterday, I had the funniest license plate in the family*.

###-KRP

And then my mom came home with her new license plate.

###-WTF

I just laughed and laughed and laughed...


*I was going to take pictures, but life got away from me. So yeah, you'll have to just take my word for it without the photo evidence.

Frankenpuppy!

Diesel just got her stitches out. I had to grab a couple of shots before she was a Frankenpuppy no more.

A House with a Nice Backyard, Just For You

It's been a very exciting, stressful, anxiety-filled week, and I'm kind of surprised my heart hasn't exploded yet.

Starting back on last Saturday (yeah, I know that was technically part of last week), the Guy and I did our regular house hunting. We've gone at least one weekend day for the last several weeks, not to mention a few weeknights after work, too. I honestly wasn't expecting much, because the second house (of all the houses ever) we looked at was the house right next door to the house we looked at Saturday morning. And the first house was totally trapped in the 70s. I actually refer to it as the "Super 70s House" (very clever name, this I know), while the Guy refers to it as "Quagmire's House" because of the totally ridiculous-looking bar in the basement.

But we've learned that we must look at any "bargain" (at least it's a bargain in our housing market), but we've always walked away disappointed. So like I said, we weren't expecting anything. Yet, the most common phrase uttered while walking around the house was "Oh my God, this is so pleasantly surprising!" Ok, so that was uttered mostly by me. But it was true. The Guy and I ended up meeting our agent back at her office two hours later to fill out the ridiculous amount of paperwork that comes with putting in an offer on a house.

And we got REJECTED!

It wasn't complete rejection, I guess, but it was a counteroffer that we just couldn't afford. So stressful! Seriously, it led to a several-hour breakdown (mostly my own) when the Guy and I fought about what a reasonable counter-counteroffer would be and at what point we would need to walk away. (The breakdown happened cause I didn't want to walk away and I believed the Guy and I could afford up to $10K more than our original offer, and he believed we could afford up to $1K more than our original offer because he is [and I say this totally lovingly] the stingiest man in the history of men.)

So we made plans to drive to the realtor's office on Wednesday night to fill out a couple more pieces of papers with our new counter-counteroffer (a compromise of what the Guy and I believed we could afford). I was very pessimistic going into it, afraid we were going to end up wasting people's time. All week long I talked myself out of it, convinced myself we would be rejected again, and we just weren't meant to own this home. Sadly, the bitterness kept me sane.

And sadly, I got bad news toward the end of the day Wednesday that just made my pessimism in all things overflow. See, on Monday, we took Diesel (my adorably weird little dog for the last 12 years) to the vet to have some lumps looked at. Several months ago, the doctor had said they were nipples. But I was never convinced (seriously...this isn't a hindsight kind of thing) and I got really concerned when a couple of weeks ago, one of them started getting very hard. The doctor said, "Hey, no worries, I'm pretty sure it's just a normal-benign-tumor-thing. But we'll take a cell sample and send it to the lab just to be sure."

My father called me around 3:30 PM on Wednesday and told me I needed to call the vet. "Why, Dad?" "Cause the doctor left a message saying it wasn't the normal-benign-tumor-thing, but a totally-serious-cancer-thing. You need to schedule Diesel's surgery to have them removed immediately before they spread." Ok, I think I put up a pretty decent front when it comes to being an adult. I'm getting married, I'm looking at buying houses. But my dog? MY dog? With cancer? The ugliest, dirtiest C-word of them all? This I could not handle.

I called the vet immediately to schedule an appointment. After a ridiculous run-around (though not by the vet, but by her staff...a story for a different post when I feel like venting), I was finally able to make an appointment so that Diesel could have her surgery immediately the following day.

So here I am, already stressed about putting in an offer on a house that I want but am afraid I won't get, but now over the top stressed cause the dog I've had for half my life has the potential to not make for much longer.* I was devastated. Thank God this happened at the end of the work day, cause I'm pretty sure I would've been fired if anyone saw what I did...or more specifically, what I didn't do...during my last couple of hours of the workday.

My pessimistic output on all things soared as I drove the 50+ miles north to the realtor's office. I just couldn't believe that anything good would happen. I had been crying on and off for the last three hours, and I was almost inconsolable. But we still did what needed to be done for the day. We still put in the offer on our house.

And just shy of 10:00 PM, the Guy got a phone call. We were actually getting into our cars, leaving C & R's house, so I just figured I'd give him his privacy and start driving home. About 5 minutes down the road, my phone rang. I couldn't figure out what the Guy would need to talk to me about since he JUST saw me. "Guess who that was?" he asked. I said, "I don't know, [Your Business Partner]?" "No," he said, "It was [Realtor]. We got it!"

I seriously couldn't believe it. For the first time all day, I had the biggest moment of excitement! I was just so excited that we got the house that I've wanted!

When I got home, we played with my dog, my poor beautiful dog who acted like she was 3, not 12, and who very clearly had no idea she was sick. That's what broke my heart the most. She didn't feel bad. She didn't feel sick. And yet, I had to bring her to her operation in under 12 hours, and she would be scared and not know why I was leaving her there.

Diesel and I spooned all night. Yes, I spoon with my dog. Quite regularly, actually.** And before we fell asleep, I pet her gently and told her, "Now you have to get better. Cause we just got a house with a nice backyard, just for you!"




And for those who might be wondering, Diesel made it through her surgery and according to the vet's staffer who called me yesterday, she's doing "very well." She had to stay overnight for observation, and after I babysit my cute little niece, KE, for a couple of hours this afternoon, I'm immediately getting in my car (work, be damned!), and bringing my pup home!


*A little sidenote for all of you who think I might have overreacted to the knowledge of my dog having low-grade cancer that can totally be surgically removed from her body: I still don't believe that I was being totally irrational. The dog we owned before Diesel had cancer. And we didn't know. Within two days of finding out she had cancer, she died. In retrospect, we were able to catch it a LOT sooner with Diesel than with Freckles. But I still worried, because what if it wasn't as soon as we all thought? To be honest, I still worry about that right now.

**The Guy doesn't want the dog in the bed when we're married. I'm not entirely sure he even wants her in our bedroom. I understand his concern with this, really, I do. But no matter how gently I try to break it to him, I don't think he gets that my dog has a mind of her own and will find her way into our bed with or without his permission. It's going to be a very rude awakening the first day she does it, indeed!

Joel the Douche

I was unaware until recently that my wedding (and really, the planning that goes along with this lovely occasion) seems to be turning into an epic tale. Only instead of being a cool epic tale (What? Do those even exist?), mine is more of the stupidest story on earth, all because there are morons running the reception hall.

I've told this story twice, in two separate e-mails to two different people, and so I think to save us all some time, I will combine these e-mails into one wondrous tale. This is such a long and stupid story (bear with me...I'm not kidding when I say it's long), and strangely, it starts all the way back in January.

Actually, if you want to get technical, it starts back in August. When we found the reception site for our wedding, they informed us that they do tasting on the first Monday of every month (and the only month they don't do tastings is in September, since the first Monday is Labor Day). They also suggested we schedule the tasting approximately 6 months pre-wedding so that we have the most "accurate" decisions for food choices when we go to do our invitations.

So mid-January, my mother calls and schedules our food tasting to Monday, February 4th. Sounds great, right? Except my father tells us two days later that he has to be in NYC on business until 6 PM that day (and the food tasting starts at 6:30). So I called a day or two later to cancel, and reschedule for the March 3rd tasting.

In mid-February, my mother goes to pay the second part of the deposit for our reception (apparently, wedding receptions cost so damn much that you don't pay one deposit...you pay like three or four before the final amount is due). This was approximately Valentine's Day (and I only know this cause the deposit was due on the Guy's birthday, which is three days after V-day, and I know she paid it a couple days before it was due). Well, while my mom is forking over the cost of a bedroom furniture set, she says to them, "I would just like to confirm that we're down for six people to be at the tasting on Monday, March 3rd." "Yes, Mrs. P-------, everything's all set."

So Monday rolls around. We frantically clean because the Guy's parents are coming over to our house (for the first time ever, mind you) prior to the six of us going to the tasting. (Sidenote: My favorite part of this is the fact that we don't have an actual garbage can in our kitchen cause there's no room for one. We just use a giant trash bag, and when it gets full, we bring it to the dumpster in our complex. Apparently, when I told my parents that the Guy called and they were on their way, so they'd be here in 15 minutes, my father panicked. And he threw the trash bag in the trunk of my mother's car, cause the bag wasn't full yet and he didn't want to bring it to the dumpster. But he knew he had to get it out of the way. This was true P-family cleaning at its finest.) The Ts arrive, and we pile into two cars (parents in one, the Guy and I in the other) and drive the 30 minutes to the reception site. The Guy and I get there first cause I took a shortcut (the reception is in the town that I grew up in at a place that's only 1-2 miles down the road from where I took my dance classes, so I know the back roads well since I used to drive them 4-5 days a week). The Guy's father drove the other car and only knew of one very long way to go).

Upon arrival, we realize it's basically pitch black. So I'm thinking "Odd," but then I think, "Well, maybe we just have to go around back to where the office is and then they will escort us to the dining room." In back, there's only about 5 cars in the parking lot. So the Guy and I had been planning to wait for our parents in the car, but I'm feeling very nervous at this point, and I said, "I'm going to go inside and confirm this before our parents get here." I walk in the door, and the Guy follows behind. There's an employee in a suit, sitting with a couple who is clearly planning their wedding. I wait in the lobby, but he sees us, so he says, "Excuse me, can I help you?" I said, "Yes, we're here for the food tasting." And the look he gave me while he said, "Would you mind waiting there for a minute?" completely made me panic. So I told the Guy to go outside and wait for our parents to get out of the car (at this point, I saw their car pull into the lot), because I wanted him to warn them that I didn't think there would be any tasting this evening.

Sure enough, we wait about 5-10 minutes for him to finish up with this couple. As soon as the couple walks out the door, Joel the Douche (this is the official title I've given him, as he has now become my parents' and in-laws' biggest enemy) informs us that the tasting was canceled over the weekend due to an emergency, and every couple received a call. "Well, Joel, we've been home all weekend and we have an answering machine AND voicemail, and we did NOT receive any calls." Sure enough, Joel checks the banquet calendar, and we are not on the list. Why we are not on the list is beyond all of us. But we are not on the list. Anyway, the tasting is rescheduled for the following Monday. There's more BS that came out of Joel the Douche's mouth as I watched my father-in-law's face fill up with annoyance, and as I'm filling up with rage from inside out since I am the one who freaking scheduled it and I knew EXACTLY who I scheduled it with (who, by the way, was the OWNER, and I knew it was him due to his thick Italian accent). Anyway, long story short (for this part of the story, anyway), we had to find our own accommodations for dinner. Although, Joel the Douche was going to comp us dinner at the owner's other non-banquet hall restaurant, but that restaurant was over an hour away and it's already almost 7 PM and we're like "Um, NO! We're hungry now, nor are we going to drive ridiculously far out of our way."

Fine, whatever, it's settled. Or is it? While I was at Starbucks on Wednesday, my father called my work number and left me a voicemail. Apparently, Joel the Douche called my father and left him a voicemail saying that it was being rescheduled AGAIN, only it was being pushed up to this coming Saturday. That's right, the very Saturday I was supposed to be in Albany! So like 10 phone calls later (to determine everyone's schedule and confirm everything), we're settled to go to the reception hall on Saturday night now. And are they even going to comp us anything for all this ridiculousness we're going through? Who the hell knows. When I spoke with Joel the Douche about it, he was like "Well, I can't make any decisions. Tony [the owner] would have to determine that. But I know that Tony has a message to call your father, and I'm sure they'll work that out." I find it interesting that Joel the Douche doesn't have that authority, seeing as how Joel the Douche was going to comp us free meals at Tony's OTHER restaurant on Monday night. Yeah. Totally completely RIDICULOUS. Sidenote: Apparently, in one of the phone calls, my father told Megan, the wedding coordinator at the reception hall, that he was so annoyed and disturbed by this whole thing that if we could find a place, he'd just suck up the money he's already paid and walk away and go to the other place. While I am pissed and also very concerned that they don't have my wedding penciled in for September 27th (do you think they'll call us on September 24th and see if they can reschedule us due to emergency?), I don't think I'm ready to forgo a couple grand.

And this is the epic tale of how Joel the Douche has tried to take down my wedding, one food tasting at a time.

In the Open

S: ...Oh, did you two start going back to Weight Watchers?
AL: Well, I did...
SL: ...And I started to, but I had to stop.
S: Oh, why?
SL: Well, cause I'm pregnant.
S: WHAT?! Congratulations! I'm so happy for you!
SL: Hang on, cause there's more.
S: Ok...
SL: My due date is the day after your wedding. I won't be able to be in the wedding anymore. I'm so sorry!
S; Oh my God, don't even worry about that! You have to do what's right for you and the baby! I just can't wait to meet him or her! Seriously, I'm so excited for you! Don't worry at all!

And that, my friends, is the secret that I've been dying to share!