The Case of the Mysterious Beeping Noise

Today started off like any other Sunday, Friends -- got up, made coffee, lounged about checking all my social media.  And then I heard it for the first time, this weird beeping noise.  It wasn't repetitive, just a single beep.

Alright, where did that come from?  I waited in silence for a few minutes to see if it would happen again.  Nothing. Huh.  Must not be anything very important or it would probably continue beeping.

A short while later I hear it again: one short, loud beep.  What the heck?  What is beeping and where is it coming from?

I easily rule out three things:

It's not the coffee pot -- that beeps four times in a row.

It's definitely not my alarm clock -- I didn't even set it today.

It's not the smoke detector -- I ripped the batteries out of that thing a long time ago when it decided to go off every time I so much as boiled water.

Carbon Monoxide Detector maybe?  I've never heard it go off, so maybe that is it.  Nope.  Status is fine.

I hear another beep, but it's so short I can't figure out what room it is coming from, let alone the source of the beeping.

I'm starting to get annoyed now.  What else could possibly be beeping?

Some weird new notification for something on my phone?  Nope.  No new notifications of any type.

Maybe one of the receivers for the house phone has a dead battery?  No such luck.  Both are on the bases, all charged up.  

What else do I even possess that would be beeping?  This had been going on for a couple of hours at this point.  

My car has the thing to lock and unlock it, that takes a battery...at least I assume it does.  I've only had it a month though, so it shouldn't be beeping or doing anything strange, right?  Car key is normal and working fine, not emitting any noises.

*beep*

Gah!!  Where the hell is the beeping coming from?

You know what?  I give up, at least momentarily.  I'm going to the grocery store. Maybe whatever it is will have stopped with the random beeping by the time I get back.

Friends, you are going to jump to the future a bit here, when I returned home from running errands. So, let's say about 2 hours later.

I wasn't back in the house for five minutes before I heard the infernal beep again. Okay beep, you want to be like that?  I'm going to find you and shut you up if it is the last thing I do. Promise. You are irking the hell out of me.

About an hour later I finally happened to be in the correct room when it beeped.  Ha! Now I've got you, beeping thing!

It's the Verizon box, attached to my wall.  The light to replace the battery is on. Wonderful.

I go to the Verizon website to learn how to make this thing stop.  Do I want to use the online guide and skip calling customer service?  Yes, yes I do.

I start going through the steps, and eventually it tells me to hold in the "alarm silence" button for 10 seconds and that will shut it up.  It will also take out my service for 3-5 minutes.  Okay, it's a deal.

That, dear Friends, was my tragic mistake.  Never make a deal that will interrupt your service when you are relying on said service to bring you answers. Lesson learned.

I wait 10 minutes.  I'm not busy, and I want to make sure it worked.  I click the next button to get to the next step, and Google tells me I have no internet connection.

Say what?

Okay, maybe the router just needs to be reset.  Let's do that and see if it works.

Nope.

Hmm.  I'm running out of ideas now.  Let's try troubleshooting on the computer. None of their solutions work either.

Well, the house phone and television are still working, so there is obviously some sort of connection. 

 

Did I mention the stupid box started beeping again?  Yeah.  Didn't even solve my initial problem, just caused a new one.

God, I really do not want to have to call Verizon and spend half of my natural life on hold.  Maybe I can go into customer service through the television and get it resolved? No dice.  I also discovered that I had no wifi on any devices.

So I call my parents to get a phone number so I can call Verizon.  I'm going to have to suck it up and call for tech support.

I go through Verizon's little menu, and Robo-voice tells me, "Are you calling about the beeping coming from your battery?"  Yes!  That is one of the reasons I am calling you.  I explore that option, and eventually Robo-voice tells me that she can't do anything to help me because I don't know my account number.  I can go online and order a new battery.  Bye!

Motherf........

I don't know my account number because I have everything set up to pay automatically online, and if I could get online we wouldn't be having this problem!  

I took a few deep, calming breaths, and I called Robo-voice back again.  This time I chose "other problem" and "tech support".  Robo-voice tells me she has sent a signal, and now I have to restart my router even if I have already tried that.  Do I want her to walk me through it?  Sure thing, tootsie.  No way am I letting you off this phone until you have solved my problem.

It doesn't work.  I push the correct button to tell Robo-voice, and she says she will connect me to someone who can help.  Finally!  So I hold for a while, and then the phone starts to ring.  I was pleasantly surprised at how short the wait was.  

Then I got a recording telling me the office was closed and to call back again during regular office hours, and it hung up on me.

WTF?  You did not just do that to me, Robo-voice!  

Honestly, I would be fine if it was just the television and/or house phone that wasn't working.  I need my internet though.  I know that sounds like a whiny first-world problem, Friends, but it's true.  My mobile phone doesn't work worth a damn on roaming cellular. It's not just for my personal amusement either.  I need to be able to get to the internet for work, even if it is just to deal with weird last-minute scheduling problems.

So I call Robo-voice back for the third time.  "Oh hi!  You just called about a technical issue!  Is that why you are calling again?"  You bet your computer-generated ass it's why I'm calling again.

Robo-voice puts me on hold, and I actually get a live person this time!  I think his name was Justin -- I honestly don't remember, which is a shame because he was great.

I tell him the whole long story of the beeping -- which was still very much going on at this point -- and how I followed the instructions and pushed the magic "Alarm Silence" button which did not stop the beeping but did take out my internet, and how I had already tried the Robo-voice help with restarting the router.

He ends up having to call me back on my cell phone because we are going to restart the whole system and I will lose the house phone.   Let's do this thing!  I really hope I'm not going to have a huge problem that means scheduling someone to come to my house.

I disconnect the router, unplug the battery box that is attached to my wall, open the box and disconnect the battery, all under the guidance of Justin.  

Then we reattach the wires to the battery, plug the box back into the outlet, and restart the router.

Is everything working now?

No. 

Justin says that we have done all we can do together.  He has to put me on hold to contact a higher level of tech support.  Okay.  Not like I have anything else to do.

As I am waiting for Justin, or a newer higher-level person, to come back everything starts to work again.  Eventually he picks back up and starts to apologize that he hasn't been able to reach anyone, but I tell him that  it's fine.  Everything is back and working again, and it must have been a bit delayed.  I thanked him for his help and we said goodbye.

Yes!  Everything is back and the box has not beeped.  I bring up the television to see if that is working again also.  Everything is fine, the guide is all filled with information.  I bring up the menu and get one of those annoying pop-up boxes that usually means Verizon is trying to get you to upgrade your system, or they really want you to order a new movie on demand.  It tells me that the battery needs to be replaced.  

You don't say.  Fine.  I'll order a new battery.  I tried to do it before, but maybe this time you will let me do it without asking for my account number since I am doing through the television.  

$43.  Apparently my equipment is not under warranty anymore, so it will cost me $43 to get this new battery.  I will only ever need to use this thing if the power goes out.  I thought about not getting one, but with my luck we will get some massive snow storm this winter that knocks out power, and that will be when I fall and break my leg or something and need to call 911, and then I will be screwed because I decided not to get the battery.  So I bought the damn battery.

At least the beeping stopped.

Hours of annoyance and frustration, 3 phone calls, and $43 later....but at least the beeping has stopped.

I Feel Like We Just Did A Complicated Math Problem

Hey, Friends.

Math was never my best subject in school, which is a big part of why I ended up majoring in English. I'm still pretty convinced I only passed Calculus in college because my professor was leaving at the end of the semester and we all reaped the benefit of a wicked curve.

Why are we discussing math?

Remember those word problems you used to get in school:

Train A, traveling 70 miles per hour (mph), leaves Westford heading toward Eastford, 260 miles away. At the same time Train B, traveling 60 mph, leaves Eastford heading toward Westford. When do the two trains meet? How far from each city do they meet? 

(You can read all about that fun problem, if you are denying for the technicalities, here.)

My friend and I are going to see a concert tomorrow night down in New York City.  I feel like we just completed the same type of math problem while trying to figure out which train to take to A) ride together if possible, and/or B) at least reach Grand Central at approximately the same time.

It really shouldn't be that hard, as it is just reading the timetable of the train, but there are a lot of factors that went into it.  

Person A has the easiest part of the schedule.  She took the whole day off from work as soon as she got the tickets.  She rarely calls in to work and has a shit-ton of benefit time to use (assuming she can get it approved in advance -- that's the tricky part), so why not?  Not knowing what the plans would be, she wanted to have the whole day available for fun time --even if that only meant being able to sleep in late.  She literally has nothing to do but drive the 5-10 minutes to the train station, pay for parking, buy the train ticket, and get on the correct train.  She is a slacker. I'm Person A so I can say this.  I wouldn't defame my friends!

Person B is a responsible adult and is going to work all day.  This is one of many reasons why she is allowed to educate your children.  She will be getting on the train at a different station, approximately half-way to the destination.  She does not have to work the next day, so no worries that young minds will be unduly impacted by the concert experience.

What train should Person A take that will work with Person B's schedule and still get them to Grand Central in time to eat before the concert?

Person B has two different times she could potentially leave work, one of which is far more likely than the other.  Person A starts checking the train schedule, and comes up with a train that looks plausible:  it leaves her station and stops at the station where Person B would be boarding the train. They agree that it might just work.

**2 hours later**

Person B reports that the plan is not going to work.  Traffic is going to majorly screw things up.  I will take poor Person B 45 minutes to get near the train station, judging from today's traffic.

Now what train shall they take to get to the concert?

Person B looks at the train schedule and comes up with two possibilities:  one where they ride together part way, and one where they meet in Grand Central.

Person A is still a slacker, and now only needs to get on the train an hour later.  She will sit by the window and save a seat in case Person B is able to catch that train and continue their journey together.

Will Person A and Person B manage to get on the same train?  

Will they end up meeting in Grand Central, taking trains that will arrive approximately 15 minutes apart?

Will there be a problem on the Hudson Line, and Metro-North will make all of their planning irrelevant?

Will they eventually get to see Of Monsters and Men in concert?  

Stay tuned!

And this time Person A is going to make sure she brings her portable charger, complete with all the necessary pieces, so that she does not end up with a dead, phone-shaped paperweight before the day's adventures are over.

Shower of Terror

aka Motherf%*king Spiders in My Motherf%*king Shower

Here's some music to set the mood, as it is all that has been going through my head since this happened.

This was going to be a nice post about the Street Fair I worked at today, but that has now changed.  It changed because the ninja spider from my last post wasn't dead!  Yeah.  Apparently that was just wishful thinking on my part.

At least, I assume it was the same ninja spider. 

It better have been the same one.....No.  We're going to go with it being the same ninja spider from before because I don't even want to think about this being the vanguard of some Giant Spider Army that is coming in through the shower.  

I know this is going to sound like some made-up bullshit, but I swear it just happened, and it freaked me the hell out.  The spiders have upped their game to the next level!  Sneaky bastards.

So, I'm in the shower.  I had left the Croc in there as protection as I still wasn't sure if the ninja spider was dead or regrouping his strength somewhere.  I'd been in there about 15 minutes or so -- already washed the hair, had the conditioner soaking in -- taking care of other shower business.  As you do.

I'd been in there for a while is my point.

I accidentally drop the cap to my conditioner, and it bounces off the Croc.  I bend down to pick it up, face close to the Croc, and I watch in horror as the ninja spider crawls up out of the Croc.

I froze.

Holy shit, the ninja spider is in the shower with me! And it is on the damn Croc! The Croc I am supposed to be killing it with!!

Not gonna lie, I felt very betrayed that the Croc of Protection was, in fact, harboring the enemy.

What am I going to do?  I'm freaking naked, with a head full of conditioner, and my weapon of choice has turned traitor on me.

I'm thinking the shampoo must have gotten to him, or he was very busily trying not to drown, because ninja spider was not on his A-Game tonight.  Oh, he had the element of surprise -- but his moves weren't there after that.

Thankfully, he seemed to need a minute to adjust and just froze, clinging to the top of the Croc.  I seized the moment to pick up my biggest bottle of shampoo and attempt to smash him to bits.

I was pretty sure I got him, but he managed to crawl through a hole back into the Croc, valiantly trying to gain shelter.

I stared him down, looking for any sign of movement while washing the conditioner out of my hair as fast as possible.

Shower time is over!  I am not fighting this spider naked.  I will at least be wearing a towel, thank you very much.

Ninja spider still wasn't moving.  Did I finally manage to kill it?

Clad in my towel and still incredibly freaked out, I ran and grabbed my phone to shoot video.  I know no one is going to believe this shit happened to me.  How many spider confrontations can one person have in their shower?!

**Warning: the following brief video contains some swearing, which really shouldn't be a surprise at this point.  Also some loud breathing as I was in full-on panic mode at that point.  And I kind of forgot what the heck I was washing out of my hair.  I said shampoo, but it was really conditioner.**

Yes, I do have yellow duckies on the bottom of my tub to prevent slipping.  Shush.  Not the point.

He was dead.  Although I did wait a few more minutes before scooping his lifeless body out of the Croc with copious amounts of toilet paper.  He has now been flushed away and can go join his Giant Spider friend in the Great Beyond.

I'm sure I have a lot of conditioner that is still lingering in my hair.  I was all about speed of exiting the Shower of Terror, not about the thoroughness of the hair rinsing. No way I am getting back in that shower tonight.  I'm going to consider it an extra-deep conditioning treatment.

I need to buy more Spray of Death.  Any more Giant, Fast, Ninja Spiders show up I need to take them out in the first round.  No more wondering if the opponent is dead. And definitely no more naked mid-shower rematches.  Croc the Betrayer is now outside on the back steps.  It can dry out there over night and think about what it has done.

I need a drink.

I Just Took a Shower With My Shoe

I know what you're thinking:  two updates in a matter of hours?  Usually we have to wait days for you to get around to posting an entry!

Guilty as charged, Friends.

However, before you get too excited about this, please know that it is only happening because I have once again been traumatized by my nemesis -- the spider.  Click here if you need a refresher on how much I hate spiders.  Well, you can get excited about it, I guess.  I do like the fact that you must enjoy reading my ramblings, even if they are happening in the middle of the night because I have been freaked the hell out.

All I wanted to do was take a shower and relax, maybe try out the new shampoo that they gave me when I got my hair cut.  This should not be an earth-shattering or complicated affair.

I pulled back the shower curtain and started to reach for the tap when I saw it: a spider had set up camp and made a web right by the faucets. It literally did this in the last few hours.  It was absolutely not there the last time I looked at the shower. He's just chilling, dangling his creepy ass right there.

You best believe I did a quick check to make sure it wasn't the big, fast one that I defeated in the last battle.  It couldn't be!  I killed him multiple times over, and flushed him.  No, this one is not as big. This is a new intruder.

Now what?

I left the bathroom.  Retreating is always a good option whilst planning out your strategy, right? Maybe he will get bored and move along, back down to the cellar where he belongs.

Nope.  I left him there for about an hour.  He hadn't budged.  I tried yelling at him, making lots of noise in the near vicinity in the hopes the sound would scare him away.  No dice.

I don't have any more of the Spray of Death.  Shit!  I haven't had any problems with the wasps lately, and I honestly never expected to have to defend the bathroom from another giant spider -- at least not so soon.  I hadn't resupplied on Death Spray.

Time to grab a shoe.

But the creepy thing is in a weird spot.  I need a shoe that is not only going to protect my hand from coming into contact with the spider, but that can bend and flex in weird spaces.  The Sneaker of Victory is not the right tool for the job.

Thank goodness for Crocs!

Yeah, I said it.  I have Crocs, and I love them.  I may love them now more than I ever did before.  Let's just take a moment to consider the finer points of Crocs:

1) They are comfy when you have to be on your feet for several hours every day.
2) They are soft and flexible enough to fit into weird spaces when you need to squash the shit out of a spider.
3) They are totally waterproof.

If nothing else, I think we can all agree that they were the perfect implement to bring to my current battle.

I lined up my shot carefully, trying not to attract the attention of my foe.  I pulled the trigger and slammed the Croc down at that sucker.

I missed!  Well, I may have stunned him a bit, but the toe hit the faucet and spared him most of the pain.  That thing was so fast, scurrying to the left before coming to a halt.

Oohhhh, he is definitely in cahoots with the previous giant spider!  It has the same super-speed the last one displayed when trying to outrun the Spray of Death.  This thing has got to be a friend or relative, come to bring bloody vengeance upon my person on behalf of his fallen comrade.

I struck again!  I think I may have taken out a leg, but the thing was too fast.

This spider has serious ninja moves.  It vanished!  It just fucking vanished!  How is that even possible?!

I did a quick check on the bottom of the Croc.  Had I actually hit it and just thought I missed?  Nope.  No spider body to be seen.  Oh God, is it crawling up the shoe somewhere and headed for my arm?  No.  No, we are okay and spider free.

Where the hell did it go?

It's not in the web, which is pretty much destroyed at this point after being mangled by my shoe.  It's not in the drain, waiting to be sent to a watery grave.  WTF.

Where did the freaking spider go?  No way I can take a shower without knowing where this thing has gone.  It could be anywhere, just waiting to attack!

And then I saw it.  And I couldn't believe it.  It stuck its creepy spider head out from behind the left edge of this:

Behold!  The spider sanctuary!

I don't even know how it is possible, but the spider managed to get in behind that thing.  It's probably got a name, but it's the flippy lever you use to open and close the drain.  It also happens to be screwed tight against the tub.  

How is it even possible for the ninja-spider to have squeezed its way behind there? I still don't know. It's the middle of the night, and my brain cannot fathom how it managed to make itself small enough to get in there.  

It never came out again, either.  It's a smart ninja-spider.

Am I supposed to take a shower with ninja-spider lurking around? I don't really have a choice.

Hey, Crocs are waterproof, right?  I'll just bring my shoe into the shower with me! Fucker pops out again he is going to die.

You know what's not relaxing, Friends?  Trying to take a shower when you are afraid to turn your back on the faucets.  Or close your eyes while washing your hair.  Any moment the ninja-spider could pounce.  Have to be ready so he doesn't get the drop on me.

He didn't come out at all during my shower....as far as I know.  I'm secretly hoping that the hot water pipes created some sort of Hell on Earth and took him out for me. That would be nice, and it's what I am going to tell myself if he fails to reappear before I try to get some sleep.

My new shower buddy

I'm leaving the Croc in the shower.  It needs to dry after it took a shower, and partly because I am hoping it will scare the ninja-spider.  

I'm also shutting the bathroom door.  

Who am I kidding?  I'm not going to get any sleep tonight.  I don't know if ninja-spider is dead or hiding.  I'm going to be nervous and twitchy, sure that every slight movement of the sheets is ninja-spider creeping on me.

I really hate spiders.

The Hair Saga Continues

Hi Friends.

So, you might remember a while back when I I tried a new product out on my hair in an attempt to get back toward my natural hair color.  This is the follow-up to that post, or the next exciting stage in an adventure I like to call Let's Make My Hair All One Color Again.  

Last weekend a couple of girlfriends and I went to get our hair done.  It's always nice to have someone to chat with when you know you are going to be there for a few hours.  Added bonus:  you have people there to talk you down from doing something terribly stupid to your head.

Let's have a bit of a refresher, shall we?  This is the before picture of my hair.  (Do I really have to mention again that I hate taking selfies and kind of suck at it?  It's the truth.  You have no idea how many attempts -- complete with totally dropping the damn phone -- it took to get these gems.)

Totally took it in the bathroom, too!  Way to embrace the cliche!

As you can see, it's not remotely the same color on the ends as on the top.  In fact, there are about 4 or 5 different colors on my head in that picture.  It kind of slowly got darker as it got to the ends, and then there were my roots at the top.  An unintentional reverse-ombre effect, if you will.  It was also fried beyond belief on the ends.  Time to take more drastic measures.

My hairdresser, after seating me in her chair, asked what was going on with my hair, what were we doing.

My answer?  "It's a hot mess."  

I explained my quest to get it back to being all one color, as close to my natural color as possible sans the grey hair.  I told her all about the Color Oops experiment. She had never heard of the product, and understandably did not want to go pouring any other color removal/stripping agents on my head since she didn't know what exactly I had done to myself.  I also told her that my hair takes red really easily, and had given several previous stylists trouble.  I don't want to look like Ronald McDonald.

She also wanted to know what brand of hair dye I had been using when I did my hair.  I told her Garnier.  Turns out Garnier is hella good at locking the color onto your hair, which is awesome when you want your hair color to last.  Not so awesome when you want to remove it.  I also learned that I had been doing my hair wrong for pretty much the entire time.  I always did my roots first, then worked the color out to the ends.  Apparently that is a very bad thing to do to your hair.  I should have just stopped with the roots.  Doing the ends every time means the color builds up (which I thought was the problem when I used the Color Oops), and that is why they are so much darker. Learn from my  mistakes, Friends!  I thought I was being smart and making sure my head would all look the same color, but I was pretty much guaranteeing the opposite.  Just dye your roots!

And then we discussed how much would have to be cut off.  I knew that was coming.  The state my poor hair was in I knew a lot of it would have to take its leave.  She actually asked me how much I was willing to cut off, which was unexpected.  Normally I just get told how much needs to go, or it gets "trimmed" and you deal with it afterward, at least in my experience.  This was a new and refreshing experience.  I told her she could go as short as chin-level: do what you've got to do.

We ended up going with a less drastic approach.  She ended up cutting off about 5 inches in the front, and 9 inches in the back where my hair was longer.  That's a lot of freaking hair, and that brought it back up to about shoulder length.  There is still some of the darker color on the ends, but we decided to take a gradual approach to let it grow out and get trimmed over time until it was totally gone.  It really isn't that noticeable with the rest of my hair, even now that it has been brought back to my natural color on top.

You want to see the fancy finished picture, taken while I was still freshly styled?  I know you do.  Why the hell else would you still be reading at this point?

Finished product!  Allow me to explain the face.

I told you I suck at selfies!  That is literally the only one I took of the hair, and that is the only reason you are seeing it.  You see, it was a very humid and rainy day.  Even with the anti-frizz magic she worked, that shit lasted about 5 minutes after leaving the salon.  My hair has a mind of its own and will not be controlled!

Between ogling my new 'do, trying to take a selfie, and probably running my mouth to my friends....this is what you get. 

It looked very nice with the big soft curls.  It will never look like that again.  Well, not until my next appointment when she can do that again.  I don't own a blow dryer or a curling iron.  (The horror!  Sacrilege!)  I know.  I'm a disappointment to all female members of the human race.  I can't be bothered to spend untold hours of my life trying to get my hair to do things it doesn't want to do, and which it will do its level best to undo as rapidly as possible.  I put in effort to get it looking decent and pulled together -- I'm not a total slob.  I prefer to work with it, rather than against it, when possible.  

I guess this would be the real "after" picture, then, as it is what my hair looks like normally, if I haven't pulled it back.

Taken at the end of the day.  Can you tell it was humid outside? And we are back to the cliche bathroom shot!

Yeah.  Chopping off several inches of hair makes the curls come back a lot more.  Also why I don't own a curling iron.  I don't think the darker color left on the ends is really visible at all.  

In short: I look good. 

You can disagree if you want, but it won't make a difference.  It's my head and I like it.  

One of My Favorites

Friends, I'm not in a happy place.  I got a really depressing phone call earlier today, and it has upset me greatly.  If you don't want to be bummed out, I suggest you skip this.  If you don't mind a little sadness at the moment, then read on and maybe you can give me some advice.

There is a library patron -- we'll call him Stan to protect his identity -- who has been coming in for years.  He is a very sweet older gentleman, and he is in a bit of a rough patch in life right now.

He used to come to the library all of the time.  Even in the warmest summer weather, he would always wear a coat, sometimes with a blanket draped over his shoulders, and a hat.  He would always have a smile when he came up to the circulation desk, and would take his hat off before he started speaking.  Very much a gentleman.  When I would check his books out to him he would touch each one, almost reverently, as I handed them to him.  Often he would pat my hand and thank me for getting his books, or tell me I was a "good girl".  He would leave me little thank you notes under the windshield wiper on my car in the parking lot, telling me how much he had enjoyed a particular book. He's just a sweetheart.

Stan never learned how to use a computer, but they fascinated him.  He favors reading the Romantic poets, or historical fiction.  I don't know that I have ever seen him read a book that was published later than 1960, unless it was non-fiction book about a different country -- he loves those.  He would makes lists of other books he wanted to read, and if we had to search outside our library system he liked to watch the search on the computer.  WorldCat fascinated him.  I think it kind of blew his mind that we could get a book he wanted from another state sent to us.  He always liked to know where the library was that had sent him his books.

A few years back something happened.  I'm not sure if it was an accident or a health issue, but it had to do with his back.  He had to go into rehabilitation at a facility for a while, and he was very depressed about not being able to come to the library. He hated the place, said everyone just sat there in their chairs staring. Eventually he was back home, living on his own, and he had an aide that would come to help him.  That lasted for a while, and then I didn't hear from him for quite a spell.  I was afraid he had passed away.

Apparently he was no longer able to live on his own, and he was moved to a nursing home.  He has never outright admitted it, but I get the distinct impression that it was not his choice, but that of his family.  For a while even that was tenable, as he lived in the library district and could get home delivery service.  A little over a year ago he was moved to a facility outside of our area, so we cannot provide that service to him any more.  I don't know his family dynamics -- just that he relies on his nephews to pick up books and return them for him.  He has never mentioned having children of his own, and we have had a lot of very long conversations.

I didn't hear from him for several months, and then he started calling to request books once again.  I am apparently his go-to library person, as he won't speak to anyone else and requests to speak to me.  He leaves messages when I am not in.

At some point while he was being moved between nursing facilities, two books that he had checked out got lost in the shuffle.  He was very disturbed by this, and tried calling his former residence to track them down.  He did not want to be responsible for someone else missing the opportunity to read them.  He was unable to find them, and eventually he was being billed for the lost items.  They weren't from our library, and I did everything I could to try and get it sorted out.  He would call and ask about it occasionally, as he knew it would keep him from being able to borrow other books.  I didn't want him to keep being so upset and worried about it -- or even worse to get sent a collections notice -- so I paid the bill for the replacement cost of his books.  He doesn't know that, and he doesn't need to.  That wasn't the point of doing it.  His record is clear, he can borrow books again, and that is what is important.

A couple months ago he called to request some items, and he was telling me how much he hated the place where he is now living.  He didn't go into specifics about why (I'm not sure beyond a vague area as to where he is), just that he hates it and that reading is the only thing that brings him any pleasure.  I knew things were starting to take a turn for the worse when he started to get very specific about the books he wanted, and he was so obviously frustrated that he could not just come in to pick them out for himself.  They can't be too big unless they are a paperback, as they are too heavy for him to read.  He doesn't want children's books, as they are not "appropriate" for an adult level, and he doesn't want to take them away from the children.  I do my best, but I know he isn't always happy with what I can get him, and I hate to disappoint him.

A couple weeks ago he called me for help.  He sounded so sad and embarrassed, and said he had no one else to ask.  For whatever reason he had been taken out of his room at the nursing home, and in the time he was gone they had managed to "lose his bottom teeth".  He knew his dentist's name, but he couldn't find where he had written down the phone number so that he could call about getting them replaced.  He wanted to know if I could please get him the phone number to his dentist as he had nobody else that he could ask.  Heartbreaking.  Of course I got the number for him.  He never mentioned it again, so I assume he has his teeth again, or else the matter has been settled in some way.

He called again this afternoon, and we had a long chat while he told me what books he wanted: poetry by Wordsworth and Longfellow, particular titles by Thomas Costain.  Could I get those for him?  Not too big, unless they are paperbacks, or they are too heavy for him to handle and read easily.  He didn't sound too good, and seemed very unhappy.

He told me again how much he loved his books -- how reading was the only thing he had left that gave him pleasure.  He had finished the two he had out, and he wished he still had the paperback Wordsworth I had gotten for him, but his nephew had returned it and he had meant to keep that one longer.  He was out of books and he needed something to read.  He was going crazy without his books.  He said he had even tried reading the bible again, but it wasn't what he wanted to read.  It wasn't holding his interest.

And then he told me that his prayers weren't working.  He said that he had always prayed, but lately it didn't seem to be working out as well as it used to.  He said he was going to stop praying, that it didn't make a difference.  That it didn't matter anymore.  My heart broke, as it sounded like he was just completely giving up.

What was I supposed to say to that?

I'm not an overly religious person, but I told him I didn't think he should give up praying.  Even if it only made him feel better for a little while it would help.  I tried to cheer him up a bit as best I could. Near the end of our call I told him I would get his books and personally look at them all to see if it looked like the kind he wanted, and then call him to let him know they are ready.

He sounded a bit less pessimistic by the end of our conversation, but he still didn't sound good.  Stan almost always ends his calls by saying, "I'll be seeing you," or "Talk to you soon".  He didn't do that today.  He just thanked me for trying to get his books, and for taking the time to listen to him.  I told him we would talk soon, and to take care of himself.  He said he would, but I was left feeling very unsettled.

I don't know what to do, Friends.  I feel like I am his last link left to the outside world, and that I am somehow disappointing him.  I know, realistically, that there isn't much I can do except help him as best I can, even if it is only to listen to him when he calls.  I'm not his family, and I certainly have no place telling his nephew how miserable he is with his current situation -- I am sure he already knows that.  I feel like I am somehow letting him down, and I hate it.  I hate it.

If anyone has any advice or words of wisdom I'd truly appreciate hearing them.  Even a joke would be good right about now.  I've been dwelling on this for the past several hours since he called.  I could use a bit of levity.

Christmas in September? Sort Of, Kinda

You know how every year, right around the end of November/beginning of December you start seeing the posts from your super-organized friends about how all of their holiday shopping is done and wrapped?  How they can't wait to relax and bake cookies and watch the snow fall?  How life is so much better because all of their holiday stress is gone?

Yeah.  I hate those people. (Not really. I still love you, but I question whether you are actually human.)  Their perfection makes me feel like a gigantic, inadequate slacker.  Every triumphant post declaring their shopping complete makes me want to punch an elf want to flick their post off of my screen, and then I stress out more about how behind schedule I am.

I'm not in the Holy-Shit-It's-Christmas-Eve-And-I'm-Shopping-In-A-Convenience-Store crowd, but I am usually wrapping presents right up until the last minute.  I never seem to have an few extra weeks before the holidays to relax.  I'm usually working, and cursing out the snow that I have to shovel to get to work.  Any cookie baking is done late at night.

Friends, you might be wondering why I am posting about this in early September. That's a fair question, and I have an answer for you:  I want to brag.

No, I did not get all of my shopping finished.  That's crazy talk!  Honestly, unless I see something awesome and perfect I probably won't even think about doing any for a couple of months. That's how I roll.  I can't think about Christmas when it's 90-something degrees outside and the air conditioning is running.  I also like to tell myself that I work better under pressure, so procrastinating just brings out my best.

I'm bragging about having started --and finished-- my Christmas shopping for my niece today.

Yes, I realize that it is only one person...
and those gifts have not even been shipped to me yet....
and they still have to be wrapped at some point...
and then shipped to Texas.

I don't care.  I'm counting this as a win. I got them ordered.  The hard part is now done.

I can officially cross one person off of my list.  Let me have my one small moment to bask in the glow of accomplishment.

And it will be a small moment.  I'm not posting the link to this anywhere.  I needed to get the bragging out of my system, so I dumped it here.  

If you're reading this I'd like to thank you.  Yes, you.  You must be a very loyal reader to have come across this.  Either that or you must be really bored to have found your way here.  Whatever the case may be, thanks for spending some time on my drivel.  I appreciate it more than you know.

Out With the Old, In With the New

Friends, you might recall that my car had a few issues.  Along with the Malfunction Indicator Light that had been on for several months, the muffler had also fallen off, it was rusty and dented, the door lock on the driver's side could only unlock the other doors but could no longer lock them automatically, the cassette player was broken -- just to name a few things.  Plus, I was told it probably needed a front-end alignment and at least one new tire.  My baby had some issues, and it was due to be inspected at the end of August.

Seeing as those were going to be some pretty expensive repairs (which is why I had been putting them off), I decided the better move might be to get a new car.  I mean, was the car even going to be worth as much as all of those repairs would cost?

You're still beautiful, Shelly!  Don't listen to any of the bad things.

So I did it.  I went and looked at new cars, feeling as if I was betraying my car the whole time.  We've been together 8 long years, and had some epic adventures. Until very recently Shelly has never had any real problems, and has kept it together even through the last few months.  

What cars did I look at?  There was really only one I wanted to test drive.  I've been eyeballing these since I got hooked by the commercials.  (I also love hamsters.  I secretly got one in college as a pet. My roommate helped me pick Webster out, so it was cool, but was also very much against the rules. Shhh.)

The hidden power of hamsters to market a car.

Last Tuesday I went and drove one, loved it, and bought it.  Just like that.  The people at Romeo Kia in Kingston were awesome!  Bill Martini, my salesman, was great.  I would recommend him to anyone looking to buy a car.  George in financing was really nice too.  Not that I've bought a ton of cars in my life, but it was hands-down the best experience I've ever had at a dealership.  

Wednesday evening was a little sad, cleaning Shelly out and making her as presentable as possible. My baby is still a very good car with low mileage.  A little maintenance love and she would make a kick-ass first car for someone.  She might not sound awesome at the moment, but I wanted her to make a good impression.

I'm sure my neighbors really love this!  And my friend might have had to explain the noise to her HOA as well.  Makes my car memorable!

What fun things did I find in my car?  Lots of stuff.  Eight years worth of stuff, some of which I'm pretty sure belongs to my niece.

We'll start with the boring stuff first, okay?

-- one emergency kit

-- tire changing tools

-- 3 different ice scrapers/snow removal tools

-- various towels for wiping condensation off of the windows.  

-- two sun shades

Now we get more interesting, kids:

-- 2 umbrellas

-- a bottle of body spray that has been under the seat for I don't know how long.  Not sure it's even mine.

-- two books, one of which has to be my niece's

-- a hairbrush, which I believe also belongs to my niece as it was full of blond hair

-- a charm bracelet, also my niece's

-- a little pink, plastic football charm, still in the bubble it came in from one of those 25 cent prize machines...going to assume that belongs to my niece as well

-- a mirror...which might also belong to my niece

-- winter gloves

-- 6 pens

-- sunglasses

-- the head of my Dismember Me zombie doll, which is good as the rest of it is on my desk at work looking really sad without it's head

-- and $14.31 in loose change

Thursday morning I traded Shelly in for my new car.  I was a little sad to part ways with my baby, and worried that she would go on to a glorious new home and not the scrap yard.  Shelly was worth $500 trade-in value. George, the finance guy, said that my car would probably go to Bulgaria.  I thought he was joking and had just picked a random place to say that my car would end up.  No.  He was serious. Apparently they sell a lot of older cars to some place in Bulgaria, as they have lower (or no) emission standards, and the older cars are less computerized and it's easier to bypass the emission systems.  Who knew?  Shelly will be going abroad, and traveling more of the world than I have.  Safe travels, baby!  I hope your new owner loves you!

And then I got my new ride...

They  call this color Inferno.  I'm a speeding ticket just waiting to happen!

It. Is. Awesome.

I went from a car with a broken cassette player to one with Sirius, that can sync to my phone, and can play the music from my phone via blue tooth.  I don't even have to plug the phone in!  My mind is blown.  I'm so high-tech now I don't know how to handle it.  I can call people by pushing a button on my steering wheel and just talking.  I haven't tried calling anyone yet -- but I could!  

Love it!  Although it would be cooler if it had come with a hamster.  Just throwing that out there, Kia. And yes, I did tell Bill the salesman that as well.  

In closing, I shall leave you with the immortal words of Phineas and Ferb.