Thursday, September 29, 2005

I got scammed

The crime scene? At Whole Foods.
The victim/sucker: Michelle
The date: Monday.

So, this guy called while I was working customer service.
Michelle: Whole Foods Market Gateway, this is Michelle, how can I help you?

Rude guy: Uh yes, I talked to Jane in the deli today because my rotesserie chicken was dry and I served it at my dad's funeral. She told me I could get my money back...

Michelle looking for note from Jane. From anybody.

Michelle: Sir, I don't know anything about this-

Jackass: Well, it has been approved through Flash Dixon (a regional guy) ..yayda. yada, static..."

Sucker to be: Sir, may I put you on hold while I try to figure this out?"

Con artist: Sur-

Michelle puts him on hold.

(This next part is the fantasy part on what Michelle should have done)
Michelle calling the store manager.

Manager: What? That guy is smoking the crack. Tell him no. Better yet, transfer the call to me. I will take care of it.

Michelle: Ok! Thanks! You just saved me from getting evil looks from the other Custie Service peeps! I lurve you!








(And now, sadly back to reality):
Michelle calls a lead cashier, who tells Michelle we should probably honor Jane's word (except we had no word from Jane except through the jerkoff on the phone)

Michelle goes on break, man comes in, Jodie gives him about twenty dollars and some change.

Was that worth it to you, Mr. No-Good Rip Off? I hope you feel better now that you got twenty dollars in your pocket because I feel violated and cheated you fucker.
I want you to call again while I am working and I want to tell you to go to hell!
This is for you, Mr.Scam Man.

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

Inspriration

Lately, I have been ignoring politics and current events. I can't take it anymore. The situation at times seems hopeless and I have enough hopelessness feeling in my life right now, thank you very much. But this speech really moved me. And now I share it with you:

Etan Thomas, some player in the NBA, gave this speech at a recent anti-war demonstration. (From CommonDreams.org)

Here is the transcript. Read and pass it along – it has the power to topple tyrants.


“Giving all honor, thanks and praises to God for courage and wisdom, this is a very important rally. I'd like to thank you for allowing me to share my thoughts, feelings and concerns regarding a tremendous problem that we are currently facing. This problem is universal, transcending race, economic background, religion, and culture, and this problem is none other than the current administration which has set up shop in the White House.

In fact, I'd like to take some of these cats on a field trip. I want to get big yellow buses with no air conditioner and no seatbelts and round up Bill O'Reilly, Pat Buchanan, Trent Lott, Sean Hannity, Dick Cheney, Jeb Bush, Bush Jr. and Bush Sr., John Ashcroft, Giuliani, Ed Gillespie, Katherine Harris, that little bow-tied Tucker Carlson and any other right-wing conservative Republicans I can think of, and take them all on a trip to the ‘hood. Not to do no 30-minute documentary. I mean, I want to drop them off and leave them there, let them become one with the other side of the tracks, get them four mouths to feed and no welfare, have scare tactics run through them like a laxative, criticizing them for needing assistance.

I’d show them working families that make too much to receive welfare but not enough to make ends meet. I’d employ them with jobs with little security, let them know how it feels to be an employee at will, able to be fired at the drop of a hat. I’d take away their opportunities, then try their children as adults, sending their 13-year-old babies to life in prison. I’d sell them dreams of hopelessness while spoon-feeding their young with a daily dose of inferior education. I’d tell them no child shall be left behind, then take more money out of their schools, tell them to show and prove themselves on standardized exams testing their knowledge on things that they haven’t been taught, and then I’d call them inferior.

I’d soak into their interior notions of endless possibilities. I’d paint pictures of assisted productivity if they only agreed to be all they can be, dress them up with fatigues and boots with promises of pots of gold at the end of rainbows, free education to waste terrain on those who finish their bid. Then I’d close the lid on that barrel of fool’s gold by starting a war, sending their children into the midst of a hostile situation, and while they're worried about their babies being murdered and slain in foreign lands, I’d grace them with the pain of being sick and unable to get medicine.

Give them health benefits that barely cover the common cold. John Q. would become their reality as HMOs introduce them to the world of inferior care, filling their lungs with inadequate air, penny pinching at the expense of patients, doctors practicing medicine in an intricate web of rationing and regulations. Patients wander the maze of managed bureaucracy, costs rise and quality quickly deteriorates, but they say that managed care is cheaper. They’ll say that free choice in medicine will defeat the overall productivity, and as co-payments are steadily rising, I'll make their grandparents have to choose between buying their medicine and paying their rent.

Then I'd feed them hypocritical lines of being pro-life as the only Christian way to be. Then very contradictingly, I’d fight for the spread of the death penalty, as if thou shall not kill applies to babies but not to criminals.

Then I’d introduce them to those sworn to protect and serve, creating a curb in their trust in the law. I’d show them the nightsticks and plungers, the pepper spray and stun guns, the mace and magnums that they’d soon become acquainted with, the shakedowns and illegal search and seizures, the planted evidence, being stopped for no reason. Harassment ain’t even the half of it. Forty-one shots to two raised hands, cell phones and wallets that are confused with illegal contrabands. I’d introduce them to pigs who love making their guns click like wine glasses. Everlasting targets surrounded by bullets, making them a walking bull's eye, a living piñata, held at the mercy of police brutality, and then we’ll see if they finally weren’t aware of the truth, if their eyes weren’t finally open like a box of Pandora.

I’d show them how the other side of the tracks carries the weight of the world on our shoulders and how society seems to be holding us down with the force of a boulder. The bird of democracy flew the coop back in Florida. See, for some, and justice comes in packs like wolves in sheep's clothing. T.K.O.'d by the right hooks of life, many are left staggering under the weight of the day, leaning against the ropes of hope. When your dreams have fallen on barren ground, it becomes difficult to keep pushing yourself forward like a train, administering pain like a doctor with a needle, their sequels continue more lethal than injections.


They keep telling us all is equal. I’d tell them that instead of giving tax breaks to the rich, financing corporate mergers and leading us into unnecessary wars and under-table dealings with Enron and Halliburton, maybe they can work on making society more peaceful. Instead, they take more and more money out of inner city schools, give up on the idea of rehabilitation and build more prisons for poor people. With unemployment continuing to rise like a deficit, it's no wonder why so many think that crime pays.

Maybe this trip will make them see the error of their ways. Or maybe next time, we'll just all get out and vote. And as far as their stay in the White House, tell them that numbered are their days.”

I heart Neil Gaiman's stories

I love authors. I love good stories that pull me in, love and hate the characters and make me want to meet them in person. I just finished reading Neil Gaiman's newest book called Anansi Boys. Although I don't think it is his best work, I loved it. And since I love his work, I heart him too. There is something about a person who can tell a story that completely enthralls me. Who makes me fall completely in love with specific parts of his/her subconscious. His/her imagination. But of course, if I ever did meet Neil Gaiman, Paul Auster, Barbara Kingsolver...I don't think I would be able to say anything lest I say something silly. Maybe I am just star-struck because I secretly want to have that ability to write so. Damn. Well! Exclamation point! I want to be able to engage people's mind and imaginations. Perhaps that is why I was in theatre for so long. But I can't go back into theatre now, I lack the confidence I once owned. Thanks Poopyhead, Depression and slowed metabolism.

But what the hell do I want to do with my life?

I dunno.



















What I want is to not worry about money. To drink good wine. To workout and it not hurt. To be in shape and run a marathon, maybe do a couple of triathalons, to grow plants, to live somewhere where it does not get 108 in the end of September, to have a good front porch and watch maybe an offspring or two run around in the yard, climbing the pear tree...

Sigh...what a mood I am in.

I hate moods like these...brooding, sighing, complaining and dreaming....

I think it is a gift for some people just to know exactly what they want to do with their lives. It happens, I hear to some people. They know starting in college what they want to do...they go to school until they receive their required degree and then they work, fully and happily.

Dammit. I am tired of going to school and not knowing what I want to do. Of trying to lose weight when I still lack self-esteem. Of falling into these moods when I am depressed. Dammit. Dammit Dammit.

Farewell, I must depart before my brooding mood becomes too contagious.
Michelle

Testing

Let's see if this works...Go to this, register, refer and get a free nanopod. It does sound a little too good to be true...probably is.
http://ipods.freepay.com/?r=22923890


Skeptically yours,
Michelle

Friday, September 23, 2005

Argh!

I just posted a really funny picture and it has the post in my edit posts section but it is not showing up on my blog and this irritateds me so much!! Grrr...

Hermione, you're killin' me

Hermione is my car. I love my car. However, I don't like how much gas I have to feed her and how much poo she lets out into the environment. My car is a spoiled brat who needs to go on a diet and eat some fiber for her gaseous emissions. Here is the Fuel Standards of a mazda tribute:

Mazda Tribute
6 cyl, 3 L, Auto(4), Regular
MPG 19
MPG Highway 24
Annual cost in gas: $1992
EPA Air Pollution emissions 9.1
Score in Air Pollution (10 being best) 2

Yes, TWO! Holy freakin' cow, I am such a hypocrite!


Time to start looking into how to actually trade in my car for something a little more freakin' efficient in both the oil and gas department and my wallet. Geez.

And now for a funny random picture (courtesy of copygodd.blogspot.com):

Thursday, September 22, 2005

Babblin' Blogs Batman!

Oh, y'all. I have found some funny sh@t (what shot? Shat? Shut?) through youcantmakeitup's blogspot. There is this one guy who, I think, works at whole foods during the day and then is a super-comedian by night. Also by day I suspect too because his blog is funny. http://blaggblogg.blogspot.com/

Oh, and I just found out something completely random and interesting: Britney Spears and whatever-her-baby's-daddy-name-is are keeping the paparrazi far away from their baby so they can make an ass-load of money by selling the baby pictures themselves. What? Oh my gawd, give me a freakin' break. Or as my beloved Ann would say, GMAB, guys! Or GMAFB! Or something. Anyways, one site (radar magazine) said something funny: They expressed wishes that the money they make from the photos go to a college fund--for the whole family.




Ha! says Satchel!


Oh geez, that some funny shit. Oops, I mean shi#. (What, shin? Shim? Skim?)
Peace,
Michelle

Is there any water left?

People have been going crazy!

The time: last night
The place: natural/organic grocery store in Austin
The reason: Hurricane Rita

Now, I know this is a serious situation. I know. I know. However, I don't feel that Austin (on higher ground than the coast with hills to our backs) is going to be in any serious threat. Yeah, we will get some rains, maybe some high winds...but I don't feel like it is a life and death situation here. And it is kind of an insult to those who really did/are suffering still from Katrina for these crazies to run out and buy buy buy buy buy all the water, gatorade, canned goods, etc, that they can get their hands on.






Seriously, relax. All we can do now is help our neighbors who need help and read a book while the storm blows by outside. At least we have a roof over our heads, friends and family who love us and food in our pantry.


Some of the bus workers are on strike today and I am now unable to get to class. Hopefully, I can make it into work. I am planning on waiting for a bus and taking it, even if I am four hours early.
Ciao.
Michelle

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Ambling blindly into the fog...

I feel it. It is coming on again. Depression, that is. But at least this time I can smell it from a mile away and not get freaked out. And I think I have analyzed it to death. Or I hope. Here is what I think: over the past three or four years, when things got really stressful at work, school, life, whateva, I tend to freakout and then want to sleep all day which interferes with my life which then leads to constant sleeping and depression.
Well, things are getting slightly stressful again and all I want to do is sleep and I feel like I am in a fog all the time. But this time, instead of giving in to this voice in my head saying "Sleep...sleep.." I am resisting! Ha! Take that depression!

So. If you haven't gone to youcantmakeit.blogspot.com yet, then I declare you a loser. Loser!
You must check out this site because todays entry it was damn funny as was yesterdays. She talks about her and a friend were trying to think up names of pornos named after broadway musicals...like The Sound of Pubic and Bring in Da Boys, Bring in Da Spunk. And those are the tame ones. Anyways, there is an awesome plug for you Michelle Collins! OF course your name is Michelle. All of us cool cats are named Michelle.

(Psst..does posting a picture like that make me un-cool? How you say, dorky?)

Anyways, my oral exam went okay today. I might have mentioned this to some of you already, but my partner for this exam is a native speaker and there were a couple of times I got lost and I couldn't remember how to conjugate pedir into the first person and the prof had to correct me...oops!

OKay....so, i am running out of steam for this blog. Better go while I am ahead...no, no I am really not ahead. But thanks though.
Michelle

Monday, September 19, 2005

How does this happen again?

So...I don't care about the Emmys. I didn't even know they were on last night until I got to the computer this morning. But of course, in the good ol' American girl style, I immediately went to the winner's page and then the best dressed page.
But one thing I don't get: How can a guy this cute lose?

I lurve Arrested Development so much. Too bad I don't have TV...or maybe it is a good thing because then I would let it run my life with taping AD all the damn time.

Anyways...Just thought I would blog that thought today. Ciao!

Thursday, September 15, 2005

And here I go...



That is it. I intentionally kept my comments open to anoynomous as to not make anybody sign up for blogger in order to reach me or leave some feedback.
Well, now I am tired of getting advertisements, pretending to be feedback, on my blogsite. Geez people!! As if we are not saturated enough by your advertisements that children know who Ronald McDonald is over Abe Lincoln (See supersize me, the documentary).
Okay, I will finish this as I getting worked up now and it is only 830. Here is a little something from me to you, only the prez could articulate so well:

Fat lard dinner, come and get some Tina.

How to make a Michelle

Ingredients:

1 part intelligence

5 parts courage

3 parts beauty

Method:
Combine in a tall glass half filled with crushed ice. Add a little cocktail umbrella and a dash of sadness.


Got this from Go-Quiz.com.
So, I was expecting something...a little stupid, or having nothing to do with me. And maybe it is one of those random, every 50th person who enters their name comes up with this one...but a dash of sadness? Wow. What a beautiful description. But I do think that they are weak on the intelligence department. I mean, intelligence 1, beauty 3? Brain and smarts...got myself a fancy pair...(ann, you know what I am talking about!)
Also, according to another "fun" quiz site, I am the Napoleon Dynamite phrase "Tina, you fat lard, come and get some dinner!". HA! says the dog in Get Fuzzy. I am never good at remembering their names. Satchel! That is the dog's name, satchel. Yeah..satchel. Well, I love it when Bucky or Rob says something funny and all satchel does is say "HA!". It is great!

And this...well, I sometimes play both of those roles. Usually, the chill order goes out to customers at work. But then I get home and turn into a satchel.

You know what it is? It is too early in the damn morning, which usually I don't mind, but I only got six hours of sleep and hello! I need my damn beauty sleep! Geez.

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

Proper etiquette? What's that?

So, in the mornings, my husband drops me off at a local coffee shop so I can study before classes begin. It is quiet, it is in the morning and it is really nice. However, there has been an interruption as of late: a man has been coming into the shop and sitting at a table near mine. Not right next to me, mind you, but near me. He gets a large iced mocha and a cinnamon roll (ack, my arteries !).

But that is not where my problem lies with this gentleman (laugh, snort).

No, oh no, gentle reader, my problem is when he bites into his cinnamon roll and proceeds to smack. Let me rephrase that for emphasis: he proceeds to SMACK.

It is so loud it feels as if he is smacking right in my ear even though he is a couple of tables away. It is highly annoying. It is obvious that others are bothered by it as well. I almost got the nerve to go up to him and tell him how annoying the smacking is, but I chickened out at the last moment.

So, if I were to say something to this guy, what would I say? Here is what I imagine the conversation to be:
"Um, excuse me...I apologize for interrupting, but I was wondering if I might ask you a question?"
"Um..brbwha.." (You see, kind reader, that his mouth would be still full from his last bite).
"Yes, I was...well, I will wait while you finish that bite."
"Snort..bbokah...snort, smack" as he proceeds to inhale the bite as loudly as possible.
"Yes, well...I was wondering if you possibly knew how loud you smack. You see, I am trying to study but it makes it impossible if you are louder than the buses that drive by..."

And there is my problem. How do I finish that? OR should I even broach the subject at all.
Oh, the confusion.

Meanwhile, on the home front,
We got around to painting the room! Yay! But it is not the room that we originally wanted, ie the living room. But we did get something done altough it is not entirely completed yet.

This weekend Chris and I are accompanying his family to the Rice/UT game. Should be fun, I love college football in person, of course.

Take care,
Michelle

PS I love this format of using pictures, inspired by Michelle Collins, the unbelievably funny creator of www.youcantmakeitup.blogspot.com.

Sunday, September 11, 2005

It never goes according to plan



This is what I wanted to be doing this weekend.

But this is what ended up happening most of the weekend:


We were going to sand. But you know what? Sanding by hand is a freakin' bitch! It felt like we weren't even making any progress at all. Geez.

So, then we go to Lowe's to get some nasty ass chemical stuff to help us (we were that desperate) in which they didn't have. But while we were there, we added on yet another chore to our to-do list. We decided to paint a room that should be mostly empty by the middle of this week.

Blah.

Got to go, Chris needs the computer to study or something for his GRE.
Ciao,
michelle

Friday, September 09, 2005

Holy Moly, I can't help myself



I...just...can't...help..it!!

It's too good. I shouldn't have to say anymore.

Getting too political,
michelle

Picture thanks to Jellybaby and Michelle Collins of www.youcantmakeitup.blogspot.com

Saturday, September 03, 2005

This is what I feel like today



When I image googled frustrated, there were a lot of really frustrated looking people that came up on my screen. Some looked constipated (Robin Williams) and others looked like they were modeling. But the lady picture above...well, does she really look frustrated? I don't know, but I liked it and decided to post it. So there.

Michelle

Friday, September 02, 2005

The world size reveals itself again

And it is small.

In some ways I love it, in other ways I don't.

Let me preface what I found out this morning with some similiar small world stories.

I am in London, summer 2001, in front of the Tower of London. We had just been given a tour and we were outside awaiting instructions. I am about to snap yet another picture of the view when this woman and her daughter walk in front of my camera. In the very American, Texan, and Gold way I yank down my camera from my face and am about to launch into them...when I realize I know them. They live down the street from where my parents live. No big deal, right? Yes, it is. Because one must understand what street my parents live down. They live in Wimberley, Texas, a small charming Hill Country town, and they live down a dirt road outside of town where only a dozen other people live, almost half of them my family members. So, to see my parent's neighbors in London, halfway across the globe...yes, that is a big deal. What great fun that was discovering them. Not only did I see them, however, I also ran into two other families also from Wimberley. Creepy.

Then a couple of months later I am working at a restaurant with another young woman who went to Girls State and it turns out that we were in the same "city". That was fun too.

Now, another one has happened. I think this might be my most favorite small world discovery of all.

My spanish teacher is very cool. She is petite, feisty, and energetic and with, I noticed, an Italian last name. For those of you who don't know me, I love the Italian language. I studied for three semesters at UT and am very sad that I don't remember it very well (if at all, in some cases).
So, I asked my Spanish teacher today if she did speak Italian (sometimes she speaks spanish with an italian accent, I noticed).
"Yes, I do. Do you know Italian"
"Well, I used to. I studied it for three semesters at UT."
"Really? With whom?"
"With Esmerelda Moscatelli and Carlos Capra."
"And what did you think of them"
"I liked both of them. They were very different from each other; Esmerelda was crazy and ran around a bunch and Capra was quiet with a very slight dry sense of humor but I really loved his class."
"Oh good...he is my husband!"
After some laughter, she says she totally set me up for it. It was a good thing I liked him so much, too!
But I love it! I love instances such as these. I completely miss Italian. When I took her husband's class, the era of my depression was just beginning and I failed all my classes by not going to them, except for his class, which should say a lot, I told my Spanish teacher.

Anyways, I was grinning all the way from Spanish to the computer lab, that I had to blog about it. She says he remembers everybody, especially ones that should have made an A (which was definitely me) and I bet he will remember me and tell her what a good student I was and maybe I can re-learn some of Italian again by speaking to her. Oh the joy of languages! If I had superpowers, that would be one of them; the ability to speak any language. Too bad I am such a visual learner and it takes me so long to understand the audio part of a language. Grrr...something I shall overcome.

Ciao ragazzi, ci vediamo!
Michelle

Hey Maw! Shut yer ears! Michelle is bitchin' again!

Yes. You see it. And you want it to be true. Michelle is finally keeping up with her blog. Now what to write? I only ten minutes before my self-designated studying time.

Let's talk about gas.

I recently received two emails in the same day about the issue of gasoline and its cost, not only to our wallet but to our economy and our dependence on it, which is very, very real. Here are what the two emails were about and below them is my response to them:

1. The first email was a petition to send to Mr. Bush. It talked about him doing something, stepping in or intervening on behalf of the US citizen to lower gas prices and that oil companies are making too much of a profit.

2. The second email was one I had received before; this one declared a certain day to be a day of boycotting gasoline, which is fine. It stated that if the majority of people didn't buy gas for that day, then the market would suffer serious losses and have to lower prices.

Response:

1. An internet petition seems sketchy. One just types their name and where they live into the email. I was under the impression that for a valid petition to go through, it had to contain a signature or something a little more valid than just a name. ALSO, I believe since Bush has major and extremely close ties in the oil business, he really isn't going to be moved by a petition unless you get some very big deal names onto a valid petition. It's great that people are trying to get Bush to lower prices, but they need to do it for another reason besides just being tired of how much it costs to fill up their huge SUVs.

2. The second email...sigh...here is my beef with that. If we pick just one day to boycott, everyone who participates but needs gas, will just fill up the day before or immediately after. SO....we are still buying the product, just not on that day. So, say you get everyone in the freakin US to participate, then there will be a run on gas the day before and therefore the market making the same amount of money they would without the boycott.

My solution: Don't use your freakin car so much! Seriously. Combine errands or even carpool with neighbors to the store or offer to pick things up for them so they won't have to drive. Ride your freakin bike! I know some of us live in rural areas and it is impossible to do (I know, I grew up in a small hill country town and it was next to impossible to just ride the bike on the road, are you kidding, I would have been run over!). BUT, if you live in a city or even a medium size town, it is possible to do.

Live where you work and work where you live. We should return to how we lived before cars. Near the things you visit most. Whether that is near family, the store, your job...Stop moving out of town. Stop commuting in or carpool to work. Better yet, write your congressperson, legislature or even local officials and advocate for better public transportation. It doesn't state you are poor if you ride the bus. Really. People won't look at you and think "Oh, what a poor person to be riding the bus."
Screw that.

We are too dependent on our cars, especially here in the southwest. Our towns were built when land was cheap and unappreciated, and when they grew, they just grew out and they are spread so far out it is ridiculous. Houston for example. The worst city for pollution. You know why? Because it takes an hour to drive across the city. An hour!? Just to get across the city. Damn. If there was a train following IH35, I could be in San Antonio in a hour and reading a book in the meantime.

As far as the boycott, we would need to boycott for an entire week to actually make an impact. To boycott for a week would mean that we have dramatically changed the way we commute and then, only then, would the oil market feel it in their pockets.

If we don't start using alternative sources, then our whole lives will be affected. For example, produce. The cost of produce and food will go up as fuel prices keep rising. Another solution to that is to buy local or grow your own. The best produce is produce that is grown in your area and didn't travel 3000 miles just to go into your mouth and it is healthier. Why is it healthier you ask? Well, because then the growers don't have to spray everything just so the produce can survive the 3000 mile journey to your door. Plus, it is cheaper to buy in season produce. And herre we come around in a circle. It is just cheaper and better for one to buy produce regionally or locally.

So, I have gone way over my ten minute limit and I am tired of being such an activist in the morning. It is too early. But I guess I never really stop being progressive. Who knows?

Peace for all, yo.

Michelle

Thursday, September 01, 2005

Ci vediamo, buen amica.

Tuesday was the day I found out. She leaned over the ice and staring dead fish and told me.
I didn't react.
I couldn't react.
What? was all I could muster.
She repeated herself.
"My transfer went through. I am moving to DC in a week or so."
One of my best friends, and I don't have many, is leaving. It is a very hard situation as I know the move is better for her. But this is the girl who showed me how wonderful and important it is to have girlfriends. This is the girl who got me addicted to biking. This is the girl who has dance moves that make me stare in awe at her. This is my best friend. And she is leaving.But she must. There is nothing for her here in texas as she has a wildlife major and wants to be on the ocean all the time. And I know this and am excited for her. I am, truly. Also sad. Not just for me, but for my other friends who have her as a best friend. But it is what it is.

I missed my Botany class this morning. I didn't mean to. I overslept and I am riding my bike full time now, so I couldn't just arrive late. I would be so late that class would be over. I feel bad as I really like this class. But I am also nervous because today was our lab-safety course day and I might not be able to take the class now. Crap. Now I am even more nervous haven written it. I will keep you updated. Never fear, kind reader.

ciao,
michelle