Touche, Mary Anne. Touche.

On Monday morning, I was rudely awaken at 9:02 by a phone call for Mary Anne Miller. This would be the start of roughly half a dozen phone calls, all for Miss Mary Anne (actually, during the course of the first phone call, I received a second call, but that was just a recorded message. I thought that was weird, but I didn't realize until later that the recorded message was also for Mary Anne). I finally asked one of the callers where he had gotten this number, and he informed me that Miss Mary Anne had filled out a form requesting information on health insurance and apparently she put down the wrong number on the form. Apparently.

The Mary Anne Miller calls have been problematic for several reasons:

1. I was still asleep at 9:02 am on Monday morning. It was a holiday and although I did not mean to sleep in that late (9:02 became 10:31 suspiciously quickly), I did anyway and a wrong number phone calls is not a desirable way to be woken up on a day off. Or two wrong number phone calls for that matter (I'm glad the second one was a recording because I just yelled "NO" into the phone and hung it up. Hmm, I hope it really was a recording).

2. I don't get very many phone calls and tend to get quite excited when a phone call does present itself and having them all be wrong numbers is rather disheartening.

Okay, I just have two problematic reasons, but they are extensive!

This whole Mary Anne Miller situation has given me pause to consider how it happened that Miss Miller put my phone number on her insurance information form. Here are some possible solutions:

1. Our numbers are just a digit off and she accidentally typed in a 3 instead of a 2.

2. She filled out the form by hand and her 4s look like 9s.

3. There was an incentive for filling out a form, but she didn't want to be hassled by insurance salespeople, so she put down a fake number.

4. Mary Anne Miller is actually an ex-boyfriend of mine or some acquaintance that I've wronged in some way and s/he is enacting some twisted revenge plot by cruelly siccing insurance salespeople on me. If that's the case, then the jokes on shim! All the callers have been very polite once I tell them I am not who they intended to talk to. Except for the recording I yelled at.

In any case, the calls have stopped so maybe word got out that I am not Mary Anne Miller. Good thing, too, because I was about to track down Miss Miller myself so I could give the callers her correct number. Although maybe she is in desperate need of health insurance and will now die because the callers are calling me instead of calling her. Goodness, I hope not.

I Never Said it Would be Easy... I Just Said it Would be Worth it.

And oh boy, was it! Not only worth it, it was downright delicious!




Happy Chocolate Cake Day 2010!

Saturday, January 16th, 2010

7:00 am - wake up, realize that you've only been asleep for six hours and for heaven's sake it's Saturday, go back to sleep.

10:00 - 11:00 am - wake up again, curse yourself for not setting an alarm, take shower, get dressed.

11:15 - 11:45 am - pick up some donuts for breakfast, arrive at mechanic, ask how long an oil change and safety and emissions test will take, thank goodness they say only an hour and a half because you've got places to be, hand over key, walk over to Tanner Building.

12:00 - 1:30 pm - eat donuts, study, study, study, discuss deep findings in education, study some more, wonder why the mechanic hasn't called yet.

1:45 - 3:00 pm - walk back to mechanic, see car in the process of its oil change, believe it's almost done, sit down in mechanic lobby, study some more, read some magazines, start to get antsy about the prospects of the car getting done any time soon, see mechanic drive car over to parking spot, pray that car is almost done because you were planning on being in Park City by now, see woman pull up in her own car, walk over to your car, knock on your car's window, then see mechanic get out of your car and go help entitled woman for 20 more minutes, ask mechanic manager if your car is almost done, see manager tell other mechanic that the owner of the 4runner is here and can see everything you're doing, watch mechanic say a swear, get a discount from the manager for your patience, plus a lame excuse about how social mechanic is, finally get car back.

3:15 - 4:15 pm - go home, pack, leave for Park City, complain about lack of professionalism from mechanic, give thanks for discount, resolve to still go to that mechanic because they are so convenient and actually do good work, albeit slow, but not ever again when you're in a hurry.

The Thrilling Conclusion

Remember the cab driver who tried to stiff us? And then I thought he had gotten a hot, stinking plate of karma stuck under his nose? And then it turns out he did stiff us?

Well, when we discovered the $87 charge, Lewis called the bank who told him to call the cab company and record the conversation if he could. The cab company was really nice and told him that they would investigate the allegation (is that too strong of a word) and give the cab driver a chance to come in and tell his side of the story and then they would get back to us. Well, it's been almost 3 weeks since Lewis talked to them, and we were wondering if we were ever going to hear from them again.

But then yesterday, a check for $42 came in the mail, along with a letter that said:

"Dear Mr. Young;

Than you for letting us know about the problem you experienced. This is how we know that problems exist. It gives us a chance to take steps to correct them and improve the quality of service to our customers. I apologize for the problem you experienced on August 17, 2009. I am mailing you a money order for $42.45.

We look forward to the opportunity to provide service for you in the future.

Sincerely,

Joyce Last Name"

I was touched, really. Especially since the cab driver did give us $20 back in cash when we told him that he had charged us too much in the first place. So that means we paid only $25 for the ride! Boo-ya. (I did feel a little bad about that for a minute, but then I thought about the whole debacle and I stopped. Feeling bad, that is.)

Lewis got really excited for a minute when he looked at the money order because he thought it was signed by the actual cab driver and that made him laugh. But then I looked at the signature and said I thought I said "Joyce" (I hadn't read the letter yet). Lewis said, "Oh. That makes more sense."

In other news, it's the first home game of the season today! Rise and shout, Cougar fans!

Headphones

Dear girl sitting at the table across from me,

You don't bug me, but if I can clearly make out the lyrics to the song you are listening to on your iPod from all the way over here, you might want to reconsider the volume you've selected. Seriously.

Honestly, we'd all win if you did that. No one in this room would be subjected to your annoying teenybopper cheese fest anymore and you would save yourself from going deaf in the next five years. And I'd have one less thing to complain about!

Win-win-win.

Thanks. You're a pal.

-Alyssa

New Year's Resolutions

SO! The new school year has begun. Campus is especially full this week as everyone buys their textbooks, participates in Welcome Week events, and figures out which classes it's okay to skip the rest of the semester. The Wilkinson Student Center (where I am gainfully employed) is particularly full as it is something of a central hub for campus. The Bookstore, Cougareat, and BYUSA office are just some of the many things found in this building, all of which seem to attract an abnormally large amount of students this time of year - especially those bright-eyed and bushy-tailed younglings we all know as freshmen.

With the new school year comes new year's resolutions, the evidence of which can be found all over campus. The past two mornings as we've walked to school, Lewis and I saw dozens of joggers out. Normally we see maybe four or five, but dozens?! Similarly, the Bookstore sold out of salads in record time yesterday, leaving only pizza and fresh baked cookies for those who came seeking lunch later in the day (darn it!). Clearly, there are many who have resolved to live healthier lifestyles this year.

Likewise, I am sure there are many students who've resolved to study harder this year to get even better grades. Have you ever noticed when you purchase a used textbook that the first few chapters are diligently highlighted and marked up, but there is nary a tick mark on the last few chapters? Yeah. That's a harder resolution to keep.

Today, as I was running the gauntlet this afternoon through what is known as the third floor of the Bookstore (textbooks and computer) on my way to work, I found myself getting annoyed. How dare all these people be in my way! Why can't they spend hundreds of dollars on pricey texts and fancy electronics when I am not headed to my office?

Similarly, I found myself inwardly groaning during my first class yesterday. I just started my first semester cohort in the elementary education program. As you may be aware, the elementary education program consists of mostly girls. As in, it's an anomaly to have even one boy in a class. This is particularly problematic for me as I don't get along with girls as well as I probably should seeing as I am, you know, a girl. They tend to bug me with their fashion accessories and their voluminous hair and their general perkiness. Especially at 8 o'clock in the morning. Gosh!

And then I realized... It's easy to be bugged by freshmen boys who stop dead right outside a high-traffic door to put something in their book bag or peeved at the girl who giggles rather shrilly at a lame joke the teacher tells to grab everyone's attention. It's really, really easy. But what's the point? It just makes life harder for me. It's not like they know they're doing anything wrong, even if I do occasionally shoot them a dirty look (I don't).

So I decided to take a leaf out of my jogging and salad-eating and study harding peers. I would make a new year's resolution for myself! Here it is, all official-like:

I, Alyssa Lucille Young, resolve to stop being bugged by the people around me.

Whew.

I once had a religion teacher who told us that a good way to live more like Christ is to say in your head about every person you meet, "I love you." Now, I don't think I'm quite up to that level of appreciation for the people around me, but I think "You don't bug me" is a nice start.

Don't worry, dear readers. Whether you like it or not, I will be updating you on the successfulness of this resolution. Unless I forget.

I Spoke Too Soon

It looks like I jumped to conclusions. Yesterday we checked our bank statement and discovered that $87 had been taken out of our account from the Long Beach Yellow Cab Company. Where the number 87 came from is beyond me. Alls I know is that I am beyond angry about it. Frankly, I'm appalled at how dishonest that little twerp of a taxi driver is. Appalled!

Lewis is working with the bank and the cab company so we can get our money back. Hopefully it'll all work out. Cause for reals, yo. I'm really, really mad.

In other news, we figured out what that mysterious seven dollar charge was, that I had previously attributed to the taxi ride. We got a locker for our stuff on our first day at Disneyland and I didn't write down the charge because I was just keeping track of our food budget. My bad! It was a great moment when I solved the mystery of the seven dollar charge, though. I was ready to run out of the shower, soaking wet and with my hair all shampoo-y to tell Lewis because I was so excited. But then I listened to the reasonable side of my brain.

But seriously! What a jerk of a cab driver. He may have made me lose my hope in humanity for his dishonesty. Okay, not really, but still. I hate to say this but I kind of hope he loses his job over this. Maybe I didn't mean that. Maybe I did, but I would feel a little, tiny bit guilty if that actually happens. More'n likely we'll just be out the money he charged us. For now, I'm just sending bad karma vibes his way. Or angry thoughts anyway. Gosh!

Karma

You may be surprised to find out that we ended up with a surplus after our Disneyland trip. We decided that the best thing to do would be to keep the surplus where it is and start saving for our next grand adventure - wherever that may be. True, it helped that Nancy from Cleveland, Ohio saved us $60, but we actually ended up with a surplus larger than $60. The rest of the surplus came from our food budget and potentially from our transportation budget. Allow me to explain.

As I mentioned in my previous post, our taxi driver tried to stiff us. And, if you recall, I said that the charge for $72 has not gone through yet. Well, last night, we were balancing our checkbook from the trip, and marking off all the charges that had gone through. Everything was checked off the list except for the cab ride, but there was also an unknown charge for $7. All we could tell from the charge was that it came from somewhere in Anaheim and was paid on Monday, August 17th. We googled the name on the description, but nothing came up.

I got just the teeniest bit worried about it because what if someone had stolen our credit card? But then I thought about how absurd that thought was. We were both still in possession of our cards, and I suppose someone could have gotten a hold of the number, but, really, who steals a credit card to spend seven dollars? I mean, if you are hurting that bad for seven bucks, I'll give you seven bucks.

So we called the bank, thinking that maybe they would have more information on who exactly charged our card. They didn't, but they did tell us that the charge went through at 10:54 Utah time, which would be 9:54 California time, which was right about the time we paid the taxi driver.

Intrigue!

I guess that's the best answer we have right now. The cab driver meant to charge us $72, but he only charged us $7, which means we actually made $13 from the transaction because he gave us $20 back in change. I hope that's what happened. It would serve him right for trying to stiff us.

The bank also told us that there are some extra hoops people have to jump through when they try to charge a card more than a week after the card has been swiped, so we'll know if he tries to charge us the full amount. Just in case, though, we'll be sure to always keep at least $72 in that account.

In any case, don't you just love it when karma works in your favor?

This Is Why I Like My Boss

So, a guy (named Jamie James) in my office came walking over wearing a freaking Utah hat. My boss, Jim, who is, like me, a die-hard BYU fan, tried to flip the hat off Jamie's head. A conversation about wearing a freaking Utah hat at BYU ensued. Here are some highlights, for your enjoyment.

Jim: "Wearing that hat at BYU is like wearing Catholic robes to the temple."

Jim: "It's not just that everyone hates it. It's distasteful. And disrespectful."

Jim: "How about you come with me when I go visit football practice in an hour. You can stand right outside the locker room before they all run out. I guarantee at least one of them will punch you in the mouth. Yeah, come with me!"

Jamie then called Jim an instigator, saying he just likes to start fights.
Jim: "You call me an instigator when you're wearing a hat like that? That's like me calling someone fat!"

Jamie explained that his brother is going to play football for Utah, so that's why he was wearing the hat. Jim asked if his brother ever beat up on him.
Jamie: "Please. I'm Jamie James!"

Basically, it was one of the more better conversations I've participated in at my job (this all happened at my desk. Lewis was there too). It's even better if you know who Jim and Jamie James are.

The Tale of the Defrosted Food

Recently, my life has been pretty boring during the day. Summer classes have ended so I spend eight or nine hours at my desk every day just, you know, doing my job. It's good times, but it can get a bit tedious after a while. Basically, I just spend my time counting down until it's time to go home and the excitement can begin. Or whatever.

Usually "the excitement" is a positive thing. Like taking a hike or going out to dinner. Those are positive things we have done in the past when I get off work. But yesterday, "the excitement" was very, very negative. Oh my, was it ever!

First, some background. The last time we went shopping, we got a big, val-u pak of Hot Pockets. We stuck the box in the bottom of our freezer, with the opening out, for easy access to the sandwichy goodness. I have been taking the Hot Pockets with me to work every day, to enjoy for my lunch. Yesterday, I took the last Hot Pocket in the box and, feeling it unwise to leave an empty box in the freezer (why does cardboard need to be frozen?) I took the box out and put it in the trash. Please remember that I said we had placed the box in the bottom of our freezer.

Nine hours later, I have ten minutes left before I get off work and I get a call from Lewis. "Did you get something out of the freezer this morning?" he asks. "Yes..." I say. "Why?"

As it turns out, when I shut the freezer, it didn't close as tightly as it should have. And since I had pulled a big box out of the bottom, the other contents of the freezer had shifted around a bit, and a carton of ice cream had tumbled to the front, pushing the freezer door open further, and making it stay like that. For nine hours.

Crap.

I get home a little while later, and survey the damage. The good news was, most of our stuff was either frozen enough that it stayed frozen all day (like all of our ground beef, thank goodness) or could be refrozen and be just fine (like our butter and pre-cooked hot wings). But there were a few items we had to throw out (like the solitary creamsicle, sitting in the door) and a few we needed to eat ASAP (like our (luckily) almost-empty bag of chicken and our frozen dinner rolls) (there were twenty rolls left).

Awesome.

First thing first, I got the dinner rolls ready. They are supposed to rise a bit before baking, but I was in a bit of a bind. They normally take three or four hours to rise (it was probably 5:30 by now), but there is a quicker method that takes one and a half hour. However, things were complicated by the fact that the rolls were already defrosted. So I decided to do the quick method, but just keep an eye on the rolls so I knew when they would be ready to bake.

The quick method involves preheating the oven to 200 degrees and placing a pan of boiling water on the bottom rack of the oven. Sounds simple, right? Well, after I poured the boiling water from the pot into the pan, I picked up the pan to put it in the oven and the pan slipped, sending boiling water all over my hand and the dish rack of drying cups. Ouch, ouch, ouch. Miraculously, I escaped the incident with only a few small burns on my hand (which don't even hurt any more), and none of the glasses cracked. However, I was already really ticked off at myself for leaving the freezer door open all day and that combined with my seriously overactive tear glands, I started to cry. Luckily, I have a great husband who just gave me a hug while I sniffled and tried not to laugh at me, which was very nice because I'm sure the whole incident was hilarious to watch.

With Lewis' help, the rolls were placed successfully in the oven, and I turned my attention to the chicken. I got a new cookbook last week (Hershey's Recipe Collection. We're going to get so fat), and I hadn't had the chance to try it
yet, so I pulled it out. There were some recipes for dinners that use cocoa, one of which involved boneless, skinless, chicken breasts (what we had), so voila. However, the recipe also involved some ingredients we didn't have. So, I charged Lewis with the task of keeping an eye on the rolls and off to the store I went!

I decided to just go to the Creamery on 9th, because it's closest and if they didn't have everything I needed, I would just have another excuse to continue in my bad mood. Plus parking there sucks, so that's one more point for bad mood Lyssa. Sho 'nuff, none of their six spots were free so I had to park in the lot across the street. Check one for the mood.

Amazingly, they did have everything I needed and it was all relatively inexpensive, so that actually made me pretty happy (although, if anyone is in need of some cilantro, we've got a ton. It was 50 cents for a bunch, and apparently one "bunch" was their entire stock). I also got some chili powder, tomatoes, garlic, an avocado, and green onions. And then I went home and started cooking.

I began to combine ingredients, but when I got to the chili powder, I noticed that there was no safety seal. The seal had been tampered with. And everyone knows you're not supposed to mess with food that has a tampered with safety seal. It could be poisoned.

Every time I've opened a safety-sealed food container, I've thought about how exciting it would be to purchase a food item with a tampered with safety seal. Maybe a hazmat team'll come swooping in and destroy my safety-sealless food item like they destroy the sock in Monsters, Inc.

But it wasn't exciting. It sucked. I had to go back to the store.

As I was driving home again, I got to thinking. The only thing I had purchased that would have a safety seal in the first place was the chili powder. None of the vegetables were safety sealed. Who's to say they're not poisoned? So far, it would appear that they are not, but I'm sure I'll be eating more vegetables in my life.

Anyway, Lewis and I finished making dinner, and it turned out okay, although I have some changes I will be making to that recipe. Nothing needs a whole tablespoon of salt, I don't care if you are a Hershey's recipe.

The rest of the day was good. We went to Sundance with Lewie's parents and took a full moon ski lift ride. And then, when we got home that night, and I was doing my Google Readering, I came across this article, which reminded me that as stupid of a mistake I made with the freezer that day, at least we didn't get scammed by someone in Nigeria. Also, I've never written anything in my educated life that involved spelling a pluralized last name three different ways (if you take a gander a the article, you'll find that KSL spelled the last name of the family involved "Coxes" "Cox's" and "Coxs'," - all when "Coxes" was correct). Way to go KSL. Thanks for making me feel good about myself and the successfulness of my education. I may say things like "sho 'nuff" and "successfulness" but at least I know how to pluralize a proper noun.

All or Nothing

Last week, my nephew Max did something for me. I don't remember what it was, but I do remember that I offered him a dime for doing it.

Tonight, I remembered I owed him that money. But all I had were quarters, so I decided to give him one of those instead. He got really excited when he saw the money and grabbed for it eagerly.

But then his mom said, "That means you have to pay two pennies for tithing."

Max thought it over for a minute, and then handed the quarter back to me and said, "Never mind." If he was going to get money he most certainly did not want to have to give any of it up. I tried to explain to him that he would still have 23 pennies left over, but to no avail. He wanted it all or he wanted none of it.

Basically, I can't wait to have kids. It'll be great. Just great.

The Non-Prank

For the past couple of weeks, I've woken up in what I've thought was the middle of the night to a soft beeping. It sounded like a watch alarm, but it would end really quickly. At first, I thought I was just imagining it.

But if that was true, I was imagining it every night. That's just silly.

Then, I thought it was the alarm of our next-door neighbors, and I remember thinking, man that sucks that they have to get up at such a whacked-out time.

But then I decided that wasn't really logical. If I can't hear anything else from them, why should I be able to hear their alarm?

Next I thought someone was playing a prank on us. Someone had hidden a watch somewhere in our room and set it to go off at a time when they knew we would be asleep.

But that's not as good of a prank as it could be. I mean, the alarm only goes off for a few seconds, and then it stops. I mean, it goes off for long enough for me to hear it and wake up, but not long enough for me to be annoyed enough to get out of bed and actually go find it to shut it off. I'd go right back to sleep, so it's not like the alarmed ruined my beauty rest. Plus, it only would wake me up, and that's only because I'm a light sleeper. Any heavier sleeper (like Lewis) would sleep right through it. I like to think I associate with more devious mastermind types, the likes of which would have thought this out better. Of course, I suppose the fact that it woke me up every night for so long is actually pretty crafty.

Then, on Tuesday morning, I discovered the actual time the alarm went off. I thought it was the middle of the night, but no, no, no. Lewis had work at 6 AM, so he had gotten up to get ready. Right as he was coming in our room to say goodbye, the alarm went off - at 5:50. Just an hour before I get up anyway. Plus, Lewis heard it too, so I knew I wasn't just crazy. I checked the next two mornings and sure enough, it went off at 5:50 both mornings.

By the time we were both up and at 'em and able to do something about the alarm, we would forget, so it stayed hidden for a little while. Until last night, right before we went to bed. We tore apart our bedroom looking for it. When Lewis located the culprit, it was found to be an old watch from his mission. We think that, a few weeks before, Lewis had been playing with that watch and had inadvertently turned the alarm on. Mystery? Solved.

The alarm is off now. Thank goodness.

Tying Up Some Loose Ends

Dear Laura,

Here is the picture of our new table you requested . And also one of the pathetickness of our broken table.

As you might be able to tell from Lewis' body language, it was a really long, tiring, and eventful day. When we have the time/resources/ know-how, we're going to reupholster the seats. I'm thinking a brown and green striped fabric or something to match our towels.

We stored our broken table on our neighbor's doorstep until we got around to moving it (it's heavy!). Luckily, no one lived there, or they would be mad! I know I would, anyway.

Love from,

Alyssa

*************************************************************************************

Dear Holli,

This is the nightie you gave me at that bridal shower. I can't decide if I like this one better, or the one from my previous post. Alls I know is that I need to keep this one in good repair for the next Hirschi relative to wed. So far so good. Actually, I think this picture is the only time I've ever put the nightie on, and it was taken just last night!

Obviously, I am a hottie hot hot. Although it's a shame my hands got cut off. They were jazzy.

Love from,

Alyssa

*************************************************************************************

Dear EFY Boys,

If I can not only smell but be overwhelmed by your cologne from twenty paces behind you, you're wearing too much. Also, Axe? Tag? Acqua Di Gio? Really? Show some originality, please.

No love from,

Alyssa

Blood, Sweat, Tears, and Boogers

This is what nursery was yesterday for Lewis and me.

We had nine kids.

1 cried/screamed like a banshee the whole time. On my lap. She also sneezed in my mouth.

1 clung to his mom like an octopus while I tried to pry him away.

1 pushed/hit/stole toys from everyone in the room. He got about six time-outs with no effect.

1 cried on and off for the rest of the time after she was shoved off the bike by the pusher. She also lost her shoe several times.

1 cried until he fell asleep on my lap and then cried when Lewis tried to lay him down in the corner and then fell asleep on his lap and then slept for real in the corner and then woke up and cried some more.

1 tripped and got a mouthful of shopping cart. Then he bled on Lew's shirt.

1 bawled like the world was ending when her dad left, but then was surprisingly better for the rest of the time.

2 were little angels except when the pusher tried to take their toys. Bless them.

None knew how to take turns during singing time.

Plus it was Fast Sunday.

Basically, what I'm trying to say is, I died yesterday. And so did Lewis.

But we got better.

Celebrité

If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around, does it make a sound?

Similarly, if a celebrity that I've never heard of does something, does that mean they're famous?

Because, obviously, the world of celebrité revolves around me.

But seriously, who is Selena Gomez? Cause her picture is all over my Facebook ads, and I'm at a loss for who she is.

No Good Deed...

We all know the saying: no good deed goes unpunished. The common interpretation is, even if you do something nice, you'll get crap. Like if you bring cookies to the teacher to be a sweetie and all of your classmates make fun of you for being a suck up (note to all of my future students: who cares what your classmates think? I will love you forever for bringing me cookies).

But how's this for another interpretation: Someone does what appears to be a good deed, and the person they are doing the so-called good deed for ends up punished.

Let me offer a couple examples to illustrate my point.

1. Say you get a bottle of root beer from the fridge. And say you need to open said bottle, but your personal strength and tolerance for poky metal does not extend to this task. So you ask your main man, the husband, for assistance. He does so gladly - nay, enthusiastically! And cheerfully hands the bottle to you. And then watches you closely as you put the bottle to your lips. And laughs as you spew cause it was actually a bottle of non-alcoholic beer.

2. Say it's time to take a shower. And say you're really tired, and your personal strength and tolerance for walking all the way down the hall does not want to extend to this task. So you jokingly ask your main man, the husband, to carry you to the shower. And even as you protest saying, "jk!," he carries you anyway, fully clothed, and places you in the shower. And turns on the water. And reaches for the switch to make the water come out of the shower head.

But by now you're hip to the hop and you manage to shut off the water before it soaks your clothes. Luckily you weren't wearing socks and just your feet got wet.

My point is... what is my point? Lewis is going to pay for all this? Yeah. That's it.

Lew, Lu, Luck

On Saturday night, Lewis made a promise that he would be nice to me for the rest of the weekend. If he broke that promise, he would have to be punished. The punishment would be that he has to make me dinner for seven nights.

On Sunday morning, he broke that promise by throwing a pillow at me.

Last night we had linguine with chicken and broccoli and Alfredo sauce. Today the leftovers are my lunch.

You should be jealous of how lucky I am.

A Scintillating Conversation

As she does most Sunday mornings, my mom called. After engaging in a pleasant conversation with her and then with my dad, I asked to talk to my little brother, Joseph. Joseph has his hands in a lot of cookie jars right now, including, but not limited to, piano, Taekwondo, choir, and art. I know what you're thinking. Joseph is awesome.

Anyway, as our conversation progressed, the topic turned to Taekwondo. Joseph twisted his ankle the day before his test to become a blue belt. But, like a real trooper, he pressed forward and passed the test with flying colors. I asked him if he was going to keep going to get his black belt, he said, "No. My mom said I could quit after I got my blue belt. I'm only doing it so I can beat the crap out of [insert name of Joseph's mortal enemy]."

Well, as long as his motives are pure.

I then asked if he was going to take on Lewis when he came out here for a visit. Our conversation went something like this (Lewis was beside me, telling me some of the things to say):

Me: So are you going to try and beat the crap out of Lewis when you come visit us?

Joseph: Yeah.

Me: Are you sure? Lewis is a black belt.

Joseph: Well I already beat a black belt.

Me: But Lewis is also a ninja. A black belt ninja.

Joseph: That's not true. Ninja's don't have belts.

Me: How do you know?

Joseph: I've seen a ninja in real life.

Me: Of course you did, at our wedding! It was Lewis.

Joseph: No, it wasn't Lewis! I saw a real ninja and he wasn't wearing a belt. I also played a ninja video game.

Me: Yeah! That game was based off of Lewis!

Joseph: No it's not. Lewis is not a turtle. Or a rat.

Me: Okay, that's true. Lewis is not a turtle or a rat.

Joseph: I wish he was a rat.

Me: Why?

Joseph: Then I could kill him.

In short, Lewis had better watch his back.

Things I Learned at Lagoon

1. Disney has not yet noticed that Lagoon ripped off one of the lines from Pirates of the Caribbean for their Terroride.
2. If you are bleeding from the head profusely, you should sit down.
3. Teenage girls who leave the line right before getting on the free fall Rocket ride will be made fun of by complete strangers.
4. Funnel cake doesn't really change its shape during digestion. Just its color and viscosity.
5. I don't care if Kanye and Paris wear them. Shutter shades are stupid.
6. When you go to check out the pair of tigers Lagoon has in a cage for your viewing pleasure, they roar at each other in a menacing fashion, and almost get into a real cat fight, you will worry when you come back and they are gone.
7. The first aid station gives out band aids with Taz on them.
8. Lagoon really ought to properly train their employees on the credit card machine before leaving them to man the ice cream shoppe on their own.
9. If you are dumb enough to go on the Rattlesnake Rapids in 40 degree weather, you deserve to be shot by a 25 cent water pistol. Lagoon should understand this and make sure their 25 cent water pistols are in good repair.
10. It's rather pathetic when your hands are so cold that you turn mood rings and necklaces black. I could only get my old mood necklace to go black when I put it in the freezer.

The Rumors Are True!

Remember back a year or two ago when you got an email that said Bill Gates was going to start canceling Hotmail accounts, so you better forward this email on to let him know you were still alive and kicking? Well (apparently) that day has arrived.

The scene: my laptop

The crime: a missing inbox.

Tonight, after getting back home from Comedy Night Done Right (NBC on Thursdays) I pulled out my computer to complete my nightly perusal of the internet. The first site I elected to visit was Hotmail.com. You see, I desired to check my email (shocking, I know). Much to my surprise, however, was when I logged in to Hotmail, instead of taking me to my inbox, I was told I didn't have an inbox...yet:

Really, Hotmail? Huh. That's strange. Then what have I been checking all these years? Cause I thought my inbox was that place where all my received emails were stored until such a time as I elected to delete them.

Trying to solve this conundrum, I followed the link to "Sign up for Windows Live Hotmail." It took me to a screen where I could "Create [my] Windows Live ID" that looked like this:


You'll notice at the top it says, "Already using Hotmail, Messanger, or Xbox LIVE? Sign in now." Okay, I thought. Seems strange that I have to sign in twice, but whatevs. I clicked that link and it took me back to the original sign in page. Something was smelling fishy, but I kept the faith and typed in my password. Again. And you know where it took me? Right back to the "You don't have an inbox...yet" page. If you think I was starting to get annoyed, you would be correct.

After trying to sign in every possible way, and getting steadily angrier, I decided the best thing to do would be to alert Hotmail and MSN to let them know that they were having some issues. So I clicked on help, thinking there would be a simple place to leave some feedback or - even better - a customer service number to call. And wouldn't you know it? There wasn't! Instead, I got to a very user unfriendly help table of contents with topics such as "How do I monitor my child's account?" Numerous searches for a helpful link yielded zero results and their customer support website was down (probably overloaded).

I finally found a place to leave feedback, and although it was for msn.com, rather than Hotmail, I decided it would have to do. I let them know how I was feeling about whatever the heck was going on in a clear and concise manner. Essentially, I cyber yelled at them. Hey! Sometimes the best remedy for a bad situation is nothing more than a swift kick in the pants.

But you know what? You don't have to fix anything. It's all good. I didn't need those pictures of the time I spent working for the Department of Commerce in Romania. I can get by without the contact information for my mom's side of the family. And my tax return? Pffft. It's not like there's a chance the IRS might come audit me or something, right? (In the interest of avoiding an unnecessary comment, don't worry, Mom, I have a paper copy of the return. You may direct your comment to another item in this blog)

The truth is, Hotmail, you've been steadily declining for quite some time now. I don't know if you're trying to be the new black or something, but come on. You're an email provider. Not a social networking site. Stop trying to be one. Every few weeks, the all new Hotmail comes along and the changes bug me every time. I've been with you, Hotmail, since the beginning. Those were happier, simpler times.

So here's the deal: you give me back my emails, I'll collect the information I need from them, and then I'll be on my way. I've slowly been using Gmail more and more anyway. The changes they make are actually improvements and - even better - they're optional.

Don't freak out too much, MSNBC. I'll continue to partake in Comedy Night Done Right.

And to all my beloved blog readers out there, it's aluissa at gmail dot com.