Wow, talk about a surprise. Circuit City is going out of business. Has anyone ever noticed that those stores employ mostly middle-age men of Indian or Pakistani descent? Not that there's anything wrong with it, but it always stuck out in my mind. You go to Best Buy, and there are these young, college-age white kids just standing around, swinging their keys about, in their smurf-blue polo shirts and wrinkled Gap khakis. The music is loud, the lights are bright - it's a happenin' place. Then you go to Circuit City. There are a bunch of sad-looking, middle-aged men who probably have engineering or medical degrees from their homeland, but they're stuck in Circuit City, selling plasma TVs and stocking the large cardboard bin with $5 DVDs. The lights are low, the place is quiet -- it's killjoy for electronics lovers. Still, I'll miss it. I hate Best Buy, and now the alternatives just got drastically reduced.
On the other hand, I will have fun helping my two favorite department stores stay in the black for 2009. Lord knows they need all the help they can get. I just hope they didn't lay off Horace, my favorite shoe guy at the Neiman Marcus in Tysons Galleria. Boy, could he pile on the flattery when I tried on those Pradas. And the one-on-one attention! I wonder if that is how sad, lonely men feel when they go to strip clubs and think that Bambi has the hots for them, and only them.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Which came first, the bunny or the raccoon?
On the way to school this morning, there apparently was a heated argument that ensued between my daughters in the back seat of the car. Over what, I have no clue. But the Tingster, with her infamous temper, promptly began taking her anger out on everything around her. First, an innocent stuffed bunny was tossed over the seats and landed in the front of the car. Next, a raccoon came flying over and landed with a woeful look in its eyes. After that, her shoe was thrown into the front passenger seat. And after that, the big woolly blue sock that goes over her cast. Honestly, if I had not put a stop to the proceedings, underwear would have been tossed my way eventually.
So to all my temperamental, tantrum-prone six-year-old readers out there - Can you please tell me why throwing items of clothing would make one feel assuaged from massive anger brought about by a clueless older sister's meaningless comments? Does fresh air massaging the toes lead to a massaging of one's heart, and thus, one's blood pressure decreases and calm ensues and all is well? Please enlighten me, pray tell, so that I may better understand and communicate with my quick-to-anger daughter. In the meantime, it's two weeks of no DS and no boo-boo for the Tingster, in exchange for having her shoe and sock returned to her so she didn't have to go to school barefooted and thus be mocked by her arch-nemesis, Sindu. Ah, the sacrifices we all have to make.
So to all my temperamental, tantrum-prone six-year-old readers out there - Can you please tell me why throwing items of clothing would make one feel assuaged from massive anger brought about by a clueless older sister's meaningless comments? Does fresh air massaging the toes lead to a massaging of one's heart, and thus, one's blood pressure decreases and calm ensues and all is well? Please enlighten me, pray tell, so that I may better understand and communicate with my quick-to-anger daughter. In the meantime, it's two weeks of no DS and no boo-boo for the Tingster, in exchange for having her shoe and sock returned to her so she didn't have to go to school barefooted and thus be mocked by her arch-nemesis, Sindu. Ah, the sacrifices we all have to make.
Lucy Bow Pumps, Schmucy Bow Pumps
I think I'm in love. These are the most wickedly awesome shoes from D&G this season. The bow is adorable, although I could do without the D&G logo on it. The heel is incredible and the perfect height. And seriously, what girl in her not-so-right mind would turn down a pair of suede pink shoes?
At $495 a pair, it's not as crazy as Louboutins or Pradas. These almost make me want to say "To hell with it" with my New Year's resolution of not buying any shoes for myself during the first six months (at least, none that cost more than a car payment for some people). Almost ...
At $495 a pair, it's not as crazy as Louboutins or Pradas. These almost make me want to say "To hell with it" with my New Year's resolution of not buying any shoes for myself during the first six months (at least, none that cost more than a car payment for some people). Almost ...
Peanuts, Schmeanuts
If I only knew there was such a thing, I would have gone to school and studied to become a "Peanuts scholar." Bad timing, thou is my enemy.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Receptionists, Schmeptionists
What is it with people who work as receptionists in doctors' offices. Why do they all act like they are god's gift to mankind and the rest of us would just wither and die if they were not there to handle such complicated tasks as pull out our file folders, answer the telephone, make copies, and yell at us about the need to have a referral. Oh yeah, and earn a whopping $8 per hour for such intellectual tasks that require a middle school education and the requirement to be alive.
Case in point - I took the Tingster for her second post-op appointment at Dr. Benett's office on Thursday. The waiting room was full of patients, and there were two receptionists behind the front desk - one is an older woman named Constance who is quite brusque with the patients, and the other is a young, blond girl whose facial expression is so sour, she looks like she's got a telephone pole stuck up her ass. Anyway, I walk up to them to check in the Tingster and, without even looking up at me, the blond girl barks out, "Last name!" So I give her our last name, and she then wheels around in her chair, pulls out the Tingster's file, flips through it, and then says (still hasn't looked up at me yet), "You need a referral."
No we don't, I reply. We had gotten a referral right before the surgery in December that ensured we were good for follow-up visits. She sighs, doesn't say anything, and then whips a bunch of paperwork at me on a clipboard. "You need to update your information for the new year. Fill this out." No please, no thank you, no smile, no how-do-you-do. Was she TSA officer at Dulles Airport on the weekends? A United Airlines flight attendant in her previous line of work? A cosmetics salesperson at Macy's as her second job? She's certainly got the holier-than-thou attitude that's required of these positions.
So I fill out the paperwork and return them to her. She still hasn't looked at me, and instead, tells me again that I need a referral. I tell her I was not told I needed a referral for this visit; ergo, I did not have one. She bends her head down low and mutters something to herself that only her second and third chin could hear. I ask her if the doctor is still able to see us, or do I need to get a referral and make an appointment for another visit. She finally looks up at me and proceeds to talk to me slowly, enunciating each word as if I'm a moron: "I. said. I. will. need. to. check. with. the. office. manager. You. need. to. go. sit. down."
I finally had it. So I respond in like, speaking very slowly and loudly, so everyone would hear me: "And. you. need. to. change. your. attitude."
The look of horror on her face was almost comical. Seriously, she had no idea that she was being rude to patients? Did she think she was actually being nice? Polite? Respectful? Because believe me, she was the farthest thing from Miss Manners that I have come across in a long time.
Apparently, I was not the only one who thought so. On my way back to my seat, several people thanked me for speaking up. One old lady was so grateful she came and sat next to me. That was a bit much, since it's not like we're in elementary school and it's lunchtime and if you're sitting next to the cool kid, the bully won't pick on you and steal your Twinkie or your milk money.
Seriously though, people, SPEAK UP the next time someone treats you like shit. This idiot was a bully, and when someone confronted her about it, she backed down. In fact, she pulled a complete 180. After I complained to the office manager (who came out to sort out the mess about the referral - not my fault, in the end), the blond chic was all of a sudden everyone's best friend. To everyone entering, it was "Good afternoon, sir / ma'am." To everyone leaving, it was, "Have a nice day!" The funny thing is that when she said that to someone, he turned around, looked at her, and said, "Oh, are you finally talking to me now?" Ha! That was a better comeback than mine.
Maybe the requirement to be alive is a bit much. At least the deceased won't give us attitude.
Case in point - I took the Tingster for her second post-op appointment at Dr. Benett's office on Thursday. The waiting room was full of patients, and there were two receptionists behind the front desk - one is an older woman named Constance who is quite brusque with the patients, and the other is a young, blond girl whose facial expression is so sour, she looks like she's got a telephone pole stuck up her ass. Anyway, I walk up to them to check in the Tingster and, without even looking up at me, the blond girl barks out, "Last name!" So I give her our last name, and she then wheels around in her chair, pulls out the Tingster's file, flips through it, and then says (still hasn't looked up at me yet), "You need a referral."
No we don't, I reply. We had gotten a referral right before the surgery in December that ensured we were good for follow-up visits. She sighs, doesn't say anything, and then whips a bunch of paperwork at me on a clipboard. "You need to update your information for the new year. Fill this out." No please, no thank you, no smile, no how-do-you-do. Was she TSA officer at Dulles Airport on the weekends? A United Airlines flight attendant in her previous line of work? A cosmetics salesperson at Macy's as her second job? She's certainly got the holier-than-thou attitude that's required of these positions.
So I fill out the paperwork and return them to her. She still hasn't looked at me, and instead, tells me again that I need a referral. I tell her I was not told I needed a referral for this visit; ergo, I did not have one. She bends her head down low and mutters something to herself that only her second and third chin could hear. I ask her if the doctor is still able to see us, or do I need to get a referral and make an appointment for another visit. She finally looks up at me and proceeds to talk to me slowly, enunciating each word as if I'm a moron: "I. said. I. will. need. to. check. with. the. office. manager. You. need. to. go. sit. down."
I finally had it. So I respond in like, speaking very slowly and loudly, so everyone would hear me: "And. you. need. to. change. your. attitude."
The look of horror on her face was almost comical. Seriously, she had no idea that she was being rude to patients? Did she think she was actually being nice? Polite? Respectful? Because believe me, she was the farthest thing from Miss Manners that I have come across in a long time.
Apparently, I was not the only one who thought so. On my way back to my seat, several people thanked me for speaking up. One old lady was so grateful she came and sat next to me. That was a bit much, since it's not like we're in elementary school and it's lunchtime and if you're sitting next to the cool kid, the bully won't pick on you and steal your Twinkie or your milk money.
Seriously though, people, SPEAK UP the next time someone treats you like shit. This idiot was a bully, and when someone confronted her about it, she backed down. In fact, she pulled a complete 180. After I complained to the office manager (who came out to sort out the mess about the referral - not my fault, in the end), the blond chic was all of a sudden everyone's best friend. To everyone entering, it was "Good afternoon, sir / ma'am." To everyone leaving, it was, "Have a nice day!" The funny thing is that when she said that to someone, he turned around, looked at her, and said, "Oh, are you finally talking to me now?" Ha! That was a better comeback than mine.
Maybe the requirement to be alive is a bit much. At least the deceased won't give us attitude.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Medical Degree, Schmedical Degree
Scene: Dr. Benett's office, removing sutures from the Tingster's foot
The Tingster: WHAT THE @#$%^*&^ DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING TO ME???
Dr. Bennett: I went to medical school for THIS?!?!
Sutures, Schmutures
Here are some pics of the Tingsters' sutures. WARNING: These are pretty grotesque-looking (no, I'm not in any of them, haha, very funny), so you may not want to view while eating or considering plastic surgery.
The dressing has all come off, and now we see the results of the surgery ...
YIKES! Is that my daughter or is that Frankenstein?
The heel was opened to loosen up the tendons, while the outer portion of her foot was opened to insert the screw (that will encourage proper development of the talus bone)
The instep was opened up to reshape the foot (notice the arch already present in her foot)
The dressing has all come off, and now we see the results of the surgery ...
YIKES! Is that my daughter or is that Frankenstein?
The heel was opened to loosen up the tendons, while the outer portion of her foot was opened to insert the screw (that will encourage proper development of the talus bone)
The instep was opened up to reshape the foot (notice the arch already present in her foot)
Cast, Schmast
For some bizarre reason, the Tingster, who has always been partial to pink or yellow or red, chose a dark blue cast for her foot. And now she wants her room painted blue as well. Go figure.
BTW, is it just me or are those some long-ass toes she's got on her?
BTW, is it just me or are those some long-ass toes she's got on her?
Post-Op, Schmost-Op
The Tingster had her first post-op appointment with Dr. Bennett on December 18 (yeah, I'm a bit late in posting this, so sue me). All went well ... if you wore your ear plugs. The dressing was removed, sutures were taken out and a case was placed on her foot / leg. Oh yes, along with much screaming and wailing and threats of bodily harm - all from a 6-year-old know-it-all drama queen.
Albino was of no use in quieting the Tingster down, to which Dr. Bennett joked (or maybe he was serious), "Next time, your mom is coming with you." Did he think I would beat her down or something? Maybe sit on her to get her to shut up? Where do people get this impression that I'm this bad-ass of a mother who won't accept any crap from her kids. (Those of you who know me well - you'd do well to keep your fat mouths shut, if you know what's good for you.)
Some pics for your viewing pleasure ...
With Kong-Kong (grandpa) in front of the doctor's office (big smiles all around)
Taking the dressing off (still smiling a bit)
Taking the sutures out (no longer smiling)
Dr. Bennett trying to calm the Tingster down (definitely not smiling any more)
Albino was of no use in quieting the Tingster down, to which Dr. Bennett joked (or maybe he was serious), "Next time, your mom is coming with you." Did he think I would beat her down or something? Maybe sit on her to get her to shut up? Where do people get this impression that I'm this bad-ass of a mother who won't accept any crap from her kids. (Those of you who know me well - you'd do well to keep your fat mouths shut, if you know what's good for you.)
Some pics for your viewing pleasure ...
With Kong-Kong (grandpa) in front of the doctor's office (big smiles all around)
Taking the dressing off (still smiling a bit)
With Dr. Bennett (yup, smile's still there)
Taking the sutures out (no longer smiling)
Dr. Bennett trying to calm the Tingster down (definitely not smiling any more)
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