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Saturday, January 15, 2005
That's why they call it "Sprint"
Amazon.com, ladies and gentlemen. I at long last upgraded my cell phone and since the folks at the Radio Shack in the mall across the street from my office didn't seem interested in selling me a phone, much less acknowledging my existence, I bought it online at Amazon. This was Tuesday night. I qualified for free shipping, which experience has taught me means add a week to delivery, but I thought what the hey. So what do you think was waiting for me when I got home from work Friday? My New Phone! Whoo! It beat the DVD I ordered last week as well as a CD I bought through their Marketplace (secondhand stuff) the day before the day before Christmas. Both of those are still AWOL.
Next up: We'll see how both Amazon and Sprint do in following up on their promises of rebates, not to mention how smoothly the transfer of service goes.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
1:51 PM
Tit for Hat
I have a small head. On a big body, I might add. Picture this: a graduating MA candidate wearing an XL robe and an XS cap. That was me. My mom also has a small head (go figure), although her body is more in proportion. Neither of us wears hats well but we both live in places where it is cold enough part of the year to require some sort of head covering. Me, I finally found a beret that worked well, but that after a few years of wear was starting to stretch out a little. I looked long in vain for another at the same kiosk where I bought it, as well as any other likely place. Finally the kiosk had a few in stock just last week. I bought 2, one black and one blue. Meanwhile Mom bought a nifty bowler-style felted knit hat at an art show but found it didn't quite suit. I tried it on while visiting last month, it fit me a little better. I mailed Mom one of the berets and in return she sent me the brown bowler.
Just in time; it had been nippy out. I wore it yesterday for the first time. Wouldn't you know; the temp went up to the 70s.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
7:42 PM
"I'm sorry, I didn't get that"
Voice-activated telephone menus are pretty nifty, yes. Just speak the choice you want in a reasonably clear tone and your chance of success is pretty good. One bit of advice: please notify your cats before attempting to call an organization that uses this technology so they don't jump on your lap and meow loudly while you are just one option away from your desired department.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
9:47 PM
A flip of the wrist
It was time for a new watchband. As reported in these pages, the last replacement band was installed upside-down. I soon became accustomed to it and had even forgotten about it until the current one was installed, the *other* other way around. I always go to the same family-run place and I believe the jeweller guy who installed the new band for me yesterday was the one who did the last one as well. Why the turnaround?
Perhaps last time he had just returned from a vacation in Australia.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
8:19 PM
All right, then.
Posting problems seem to be resolved. This time.
In other breaking news, trash pickup has changed at my condo yet I missed the memo. Well, to be fair, I got the memo, but since it arrived when the usual "here's where you can dump your Christmas tree" memo does, with the same map of the complex dotted with Xs that mark tree-dumping spots, I didn't bother reading it since I don't do the tree thing. Timing, people, timing. I get from seeing direct evidence that trash is now to be left at selected spots on the grounds as opposed to outside each building's front door, but apparently the days for pickup have changed.
That's it. I'm stealing the copy of the new schedule from the bulletin board and copying it.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
10:47 PM
Irony
No sooner do I announce my intention to post more regularly than Blogger
and GoDaddy conspire to make me a liar. Attempts to update posts result
in a "Unknown Host Exception" error. This has happened before and I
have already lodged whiny complaints though channels.
Attempting to send this via e-mail. Will it work? I'd cross my fingers
but then I'd have a hard time hitting "Send".
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
1:47 PM
Fax vobiscum
The zipper replacement on my leather jacket turned out beautifully. Ram Cleaners, ladies and gentlemen.
The second part of the deal has been undertaken: requesting reimbursement for the repair by Lane Bryant, who sold me the jacket but couldn't replace it in a reasonable timeframe. I spoke with their customer service department the other night, and was assured that reimbursement wasn't out of the question. I asked for instructions on getting a copy of the repair receipt to them. Faxing was the only way. I haven't faxed from home in ages. It should go without saying (oops, it didn't) that I don't have a dedicated fax machine, so I set up the fax utility on my XP desktop. Odd -- back in the pre-internet, pre-email days faxing was a daily part of my business life, but now it seemed to me as primitive a method of communication as sending smoke signals. I managed to get the fax document set up and "addressed", only to have the dialing part fail time after time. I remembered about putting in commas to pause the dialer so the phone line could catch up yet I still did not get the fax to get gone. Sigh. So I sent the thing from work the next day, luckily to an 800 number. As far as I could tell from the transmission report, it was sent, but in my cover note I asked for confirmation of receipt by phone or by e-mail. To date I have received nothing. Oh, joy. I get to go through the customer service menu again, speak to someone who it turns out is not in customer service but who will transfer me without filling in the person I am being transferred to on the details of the situation.
Good thing I really really like the jacket.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
5:32 PM
Sans Blog
(Damn, I wish I had thought of that title when I was casting about for a name for this blog. No kidding.)
But the joke of course is that I am still avec blog. Periodic temptation to shut it down aside, I aim to stay here for a while. I'm not one for new year's resolutions but I do hope to be less of an absentee bloglord in the coming months.
Oh, and happy birthday to Stephen Stills, if he's watching. Ok, so he isn't. Happy day all the same.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
10:22 PM
Deli-cious
I've been making the trek to Cleveland every year since 1987 to spend Christmas with my family. Yet it was only this year that I realized there is another reason to brave arctic cold and snowfalls measured in double-digit inches: Corky and Lenny's. For the myriad types of cuisine available in the DC area, *good* deli is lacking. I certainly don't know of any good ones around here, anyway.
As good food and good fortune would have it, Corky and Lenny's is right near the highway that takes me into and out of town. The day I left to come back home I had breakfast there with my mom and dad. I ordered scrambled eggs ("eggies" as the waitress called them) and a bagel with nova lox. Now, bagels you *can* get around here, but this one was far superior, if only because of where I was when I ate it. After bidding farewell to the folks I lingered at the counter and got a few sandwiches' worth of corned beef and a loaf of rye bread to go. I mention this now because as I type this I am finishing the last of both. Goodbye, delicious long-distance takeout, hello mail order!
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
6:52 PM
Hats off to chutzpah
I appreciate that there are those who REALLY get into Christmas, but honestly, it's hard not to look like a total dork wearing a Santa hat with one's street clothes. However, on the elevator at work Friday morning -- a full 5 days after Christmas Day -- there was a guy wearing a Santa hat who proved to be an exception. What redeemed him, apart from his personifying the spirit of "Christmas is NOT over the nanosecond the last gift is unwrapped on Dec. 25", was that the band of his Santa hat was not the usual fluffy white. It was a leopard print.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
8:02 PM
I've got to pick one belief system and stick with it
This afternoon's monsoon brought some flooding into the basement, and with it a small frog. There he was when I went to do a load of laundry, hopping around and no doubt saying to himself "This sure doesn't *look* like the creek!" Once aware of my presence he hid behind some pipes. Each time I went down to transfer loads I fretted over what to do for the poor thing, who would no doubt starve if not returned to his habitat. Should I be a good Samaritan, catching him and escorting him unharmed to the door or should I adopt a Buddhist attitude and leave him to whatever his fate had in store? The Samaritan worried that catching him might be too traumatic (for him) and given his hiding place, physically difficult (for me), while the Buddhist calmly reasoned that Brother Frog would find his own way out -- or not -- but it would be whatever was meant in the end.
The Buddhist prevailed, but the Samaritan feels a little conflicted about it still.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
11:04 PM
Dear e-mail group correspondent
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
11:25 AM
Pad tie
I thought it would be harder to say goodbye to my eggcrate foam mattress pad than it was. I left it out with Monday's trash without so much as a lump in my throat or a backwards glance. It had developed over the years a Sandra-shaped groove that rather defeated its purpose of support, but I held on to it out of inertia. Inertia and nostalgia. The only full night Jim and I ever got to spend together was spent upon it. For the longest time afterward, he would say to me whenever we reminisced, "Your bed is the softest bed I've ever been in." While I know he didn't mean just because of its accoutrements I long gave credit to the pad all the same.
Its replacement has been ordered but not yet delivered. In spite of my allergies, I have selected a down pad, reckoning that it will be covered by covers and I react badly to down pillows only in my eyes. My face won't be on the mattress pad directly. More on this if hives develop.
Jim can never be replaced in my heart but there is ample room there for another love.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
9:42 PM
Somewhere, a purple cow is laughing
In late September I ordered this lined leather jacket, in eggplant. I had had my eye on it for some time, then it went on sale, I had a coupon, my birthday was coming up... what choice did I have? It was even delivered ON my birthday. I tried it on, zipped it up and all seemed well, only it was a little too warm outside for the next 6 weeks or so to wear it more than once or twice, open. This Monday it was crisp enough out to require lined leather, and zipped up at that. I had trouble getting the zipper pull to catch at the bottom at first. After a little futzing I got it zipped, but when I arrived at work and caught my reflection in the elevator button panel I saw that the zipper had split from the bottom. Not properly engaged, not unlike its owner. Phooey.
I called customer service of the catalog I bought it from. They would be glad to exchange it, but that particular jacket in my size and that color is not available until a month from now. Double phooey.
Then a ray of hope: "We will reimburse you for the cost of repair" said Sylvia the customer service rep. Sing hallelujah.
Next, I called a dry cleaning establishment that specializes in leather and is just up the street from my house. I called, only to find they are not open on a Monday. Tuesday I dropped off my pretty purple jacket. The propietor promised either a quick zipper pull replacement for under $15 or else a complete zipper replacement for $40.
Not being a leather expert myself and having bought the jacket based solely on the attached photo, I was heartened that the dry cleaner person admired it, praising the quality of the leather. She went on to compliment my driving, having watched me navigate the narrow alley connecting the street to the parking lot behind the building. Hearing the next day that it would be the more expensive remedy for the jacket made me suspect I might have been buttered up somewhat.
That will be forgiven if the repair goes, well, seamlessly and is delivered as promised in a week.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
10:19 PM
Now is the Winner of our Disc Contest
(Aplogies to Wm. Shakespeare, his heirs, assigns, and anybody else in a position to sue the pantaloons off me.)
With 99% of precincts reporting, and Peter Jennings blathering away incoherently to himself in the corner, we have declared a winner. A laurel and hearty congratulations to J.J. Gertler, for correctly devining which of the following was untrue. Wear that Hernan's Hernit's CD in good health!
Oh, and I must state for the record: only one time in recent memory have I watched a movie for the first time ever in the form of an edited commerical broadcast. I much prefer experiencing something in it's natural state, at least the first time around. Subsequent viewings in bowlderized form, perhaps, but then usually as background noise while I'm curled up on the couch with the laptop, 10 feet away from the desktop PC.
Two further (heh, heh) musical notes: 1) Draggin' the Line has a lyric about being happy "huggin' a tree when you get near it". Origin of the term "tree-hugger" or simple coincidence? Anyone? (Sorry, I'm just asking here. No prize for correct answer, because I don't know what that answer is.) 2) I didn't mention in the contest post, but the same Mitsubishi ad people are responsible for the sale of a T. Rex CD for their use a few years ago of Twentieth Century Boy. But what kind of car did I buy this past summer? A Mazda.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
10:16 PM
Double Vision
So Sandra, you ask, how are those new bifocals working out for you? Fine, and thanks for remembering/asking. Friends had warned of grave danger when looking down at the top of an escalator with the bifocals and of dizziness with the contacts where one lens has been corrected for distance, but neither configuration has proved problematic. It took but one or two wearings to adjust to the glasses and my right eye has always been so much worse than my left that the new contact configuration didn't faze me at all, other than getting used to looking at something with my right eye when I really want to see it, whereas up until now I have used my stronger left eye for same.
You may also recall that I opted for the line-less "progressive" lenses in my glasses. Vanity, schmanity. I believe that is what made the adjustment as smooth as it has been. But I have noticed others' glasses much more of late, noting who has what line and where. Most surprising was when I re-watched a favorite videotape, a 1995 Wizard of Oz concert with an all-star cast, i.e. Jewel as Dorothy, Roger Daltrey as the Tin Man, Jackson Browne as the Scarecrow, And Many More. Among the celebrity musicians is one of my faves, guitarist Ry Cooder. A closeup of him during a rehearsal reveals him wearing bifocals, with visible lines. This made me feel for the very first time the teensiest bit ashamed of my no-lines choice: both of his lenses had the line when in fact it is no secret that he is missing his left eye.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
10:44 PM
Fluff piece
The time came to replace my bed pillows. Faced with a daunting array of firmnesses and fillers in the pillow section at the local Bed, Bath and Beyond, I nonetheless quickly settled on a pair of synthetic down "side-sleeper" pillows. Allergies, don't you know. I spend as much time sleeping on my back as I do on my side, but surprisingly this has neither hindered my sleep nor resulted in my arrest by the Pillow Police.
I expected a period of adustment; after all, I was replacing foam contour pillows that I had used for sevreral years but the very first night with the new synthetic down pillows, I fell in love, not to mention directly to sleep. And I *stayed* asleep. All night, something I hadn't been doing lately.
Next change: replacement of the "egg-crate" foam pad that's been on the bed since... well, let's just say for long enough.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
5:52 PM
This time, it's interactive
Blogging via ESP isn't getting it.
While I attempt to get back in the groove, try this Happy Fun Contest Activity. One of the following DID NOT happen in the period since my last post and is, in fact, fictional. Which one is it? First correct answer to arrive via either the comment or e-mail links below wins a Herman's Hermits Greatest Hits CD. My feline legal advisers tell me I must disclose that upon my first listen to said CD following purchase thereof I felt as if I had bought a watch from a guy on the street only to realize later it was a Ronex, not a Rolex. The songs are familiar but they sound like they were recorded by Hernan's Hernits.
One guess per person, please.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
9:00 PM
Post Natal Day Facts
Fact: Census records show that October 5 is the most common birthday in
the US.
Fact: That's a lot of birthday candles.
Fact: National Fire Prevention Week: October 3 - 9.
You do the math.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
9:55 PM
Eye Vey
Perched atop my nose right now are my new glasses. An ocular irritation accompanied by eyeball swelling forced me to visit the eye doctor several weeks ago. The immediate problem taken care of with antibiotic drops and contact-lens restriction for a week, attention was turned to a general exam and the updating of my prescription. It was then that the doctor dropped the b-word bomb on me. Bifocals! Aaaauuuugggghhhhh!
Since I wear contacts most of the time, my options were reading glasses in addition to the contacts or tweaking the strength in one lens to compensate for distance (compensating which way I can't remember). We took the latter path for now. Because I wear glasses of an evening after a hard day in front of a computer screen and on weekends when my plans don't call for my leaving the house, I also got new frames with (shudder) b-word lenses. I went for the "progressive" kind, partly for the no-lines look and partly because I was told by (older) friends that they would be easier for me to adapt to. Which they were/are.
I'm extremely nearsighted, especially in my right eye, so both the new contacts and the progressive lenses for my glasses had to be special-ordered from the Coke bottling plant, meaning that I took delivery of same late last week, nearly 3 weeks after ordering them. (How nearsighted am I? The last time I went to pick up a new pair of glasses the LensCrafter guy told me before the fitting to take my contacts out. I thanked him for the reminder but then asked how he had known I wore contacts. His response: "I saw you walk into the store. I've never seen anyone with your prescription walk that confidently without ..." he trailed off. "...a dog?" I finished for him. "Without correction" he said.)
Bad enough having to get used to the new prescriptions, let alone dealing with that dread b-word, but the timing was particularly ironic -- my birthday is in a few days. Like I needed reminding.
Signed,
Little Old Lady Hull
(didn't know I could yodel, did you?)
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
5:58 PM
A Hill of Beans
A co-worker returned from a Hawaiian vacation bearing the requisite office gifts of Kona coffee beans and chocolate-covered macadamia nuts. This combination and a sinus-y headache that usually responds well to caffeine and sugar triggered in me an intense craving for chocolate-covered espresso beans. I knew just where to go; the mall across the street from the office has a mom-and-pop gourmet coffee place that is one of the few stores left in the mall that has been there at least since I moved to the area in 1987. I beelined over there mid-morningish. It wasn't until I was walking out of the place with a small bag of chocolatey beans in hand that I realized to get to the mom-and-pop coffee place I had walked right past a Starbucks.
Score one for the little guy.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
5:34 PM
To BeBop or not to BeBop
When my brother and sister-in-law announced they were expecting their first baby -- and also the first baby on this side of the family since my brother himself was one -- they asked us all what we wanted to be called. My response was "my name is Sandra, what's wrong with that?" The subject came up again when I talked to my brother shortly after Sophie's birth. I mentioned that the coolest nickname I ever heard belonged to a girl in my 7th-grade class whose name was Walitha but went by "BeBop". However, I allowed, I doubted I could carry off a name like that. When I walked into the hospital room to meet Sophie a few days later, my sister-in-law said "Wake up, Sophie, your Aunt BeBop is here!"
That may have been revenge on my brother's part. When we were kids he used to say he'd like my kids (if any) to call him "Uncle Stinky". When he married Jo he became an instant uncle to 5-year-old twin girls. After the ceremony I told him he could now be Uncle Stinky if he wanted. His eyes lit up and he went right over to the girls and said "I'm your Uncle Stinky!" When we were talking about it last week he said it was cute to have them call him that when they were five but now that they're 13, not so much.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
9:19 PM