I'm on time for a change, go me!
Translation: I have a day off so I don't have to slink off to bed, so I'm sitting up to blog about nothing.
My big event for the week is a victory over T-Mobile. See, when I moved to G'ville, I had to get another call plan to cover the lengthy phone calls to Mommy. So I grabbed a plan that seemed reasonable.
Except somewhere, in the teeny tiny print that my failing eyesight can't even decipher, there's a $35.00 fee for selecting that plan. Yup. T-Mobile penalizes its customers for choosing an affordable plan. You have to pay a penalty to save money.
Well, when this fee was levied, I was in a foul mood. Translation: I was pmsing like a mo-fo. So I flipped. Got on their support page for a thrilling text chat with a robot of a customer service rep who refused to stray from script. Only copied and pasted the stock replies.
Which only served to enrage me more. So much so I decided to eff with her. Pulled the 'I'm a published author! I have a following! I shall eviscerate you on Twitter!'
Yeah, I know that wouldn't work. But I wanted to be a bitca about it all and try to fluster her with random statements of ego. Well, I assume it was a her. I think the name was Xceeieastia Jones. Can't tell gender from shite names like that.
Anywho, I got nowhere with Xena, Warrior Customer Service Wench. And the pms was raging, so I decided to really strike out. I reported it to the FCC.
I didn't really expect anything from it. Just wanted to do something annoying. Kinda like way back in the day, when an ex revealed he was a dead-beat dad who only occasionally paid child support for the kid he fathered yet rejected because he'd rather buy crappy computer add ons, well, I decided to update his home state's dead beat dad registry of his new address.
Yeah, I'm evil.
But, I digress. Today I got a call from T-Mobile. Well, the call didn't register, and it went to voice mail, and I got part of a garbled message. Go T-Mobile. Great quality. But the garbled voice informed me I have a forty dollar credit on my account as a 'gesture of good faith'. I thought those things only existed in hostage situations. But I got my money back.
Okay, that wasn't the big event. The real big event was getting nominated for Best Contemporary Romance of 2010 on The Romance Reviews! Yay! Please vote for me. I need an ego-boost. I mean, I'm up against Nora Freaking Roberts. Clearly, I can't win. But I'd love to finish higher up on the list than last place.
But it was an honor just being nominated. Ha. I've always wanted to say that. Now I can!
Now, I have a TMI rant. It is in regards to feminine hygiene products. I will try to be as non-specific as possible, but I have anger over this: A certain product I use, not out of some weird loyalty to images of women frolicking in fields of flowers, but out of necessity (because it's the only particular item that uh... is effective).
Well, this item has been discontinued. There are whispers that it might be returning in May with a 'new design'. Which I am interpreting at 'new box, new ineffective product'.
I'm already in a panic because there's nothing that compares. I need this particular item. I've experimented. Nothing else comes close to the ummm, benefits of said product. This item means I don't hide in my apartment for three days a month. Get the picture??
There is now a black market for this item. For four boxes, you must dish out $150 dollars. Or more! It's on Amazon. I thought it was a typo, until I continued a desperate search, and found $150 was on the cheap end of the highway robbery.
So my rant is this: You price-gougers of feminine products-YOU SUCK. I hope you get hit by an ice cream truck and asphyxiate under a pile of melting fudge pops.
Feminine hygiene product makers, aka clueless men trying to market to women: GET A CLUE. Some of us, a LOT of us need more than neon colored packaging and cute pictures of daisies and brightly colored silhouettes of contorting women. We need EFFECTIVENESS. Stop taking away what works and try to force us to make due with utter crap. K? k.
Of course, who am I kidding? These are the guys who use focus groups and consumer studies and somehow come to the conclusion that women want their naughty bits to smell like fresh rain or blooming hyacinths.
Oh, I have to share this screen capture. I'm a weather geek. I check in on Tornado Videos Dot Net when bad weather abounds, because you can watch live feeds of storm chasers. Well, the other night, I was peeking in at the bad weather in the Dallas area, and there were a couple of chasers in action. The chasers are represented by car icons, and when the car is blinking, it means there is an active video feed. I went to click on Kyle's feed (yes, I know storm chasers' names), and realized his icon was having some issues.
Pay close attention to the little car in the upper right corner of the screen
Never saw that happen before. I mean, sure, I guess it could mean the map updated weird because he was on some back-road or something. But I prefer to think that a big ass tornado came along and flipped Kyle's car so hard that it knocked his icon on its top.
God, I'm easily amused.
Okay, that's about it for this week. Hopefully I'll get some more quality Janie work in, now that I've turned over my reworked first half to my beta-gals. For now, I'm more looking forward to tomorrow's Boom date! Yeehaw!