Foreign businessmen

I returned the video cameras I'd purchased and was going to place outside my house to spy on potential criminals with, like my neighbors.  The instructions were written in broken English.  I couldn't understand what the hell I was supposed to be doing with those cameras and, while reading the instruction manual and having flashbacks of my last unfavorable dealings with the Chinese over a pair of fake Ugg boots, I suddenly wanted my $205 dollars back, immediately.  I submitted my request for a refund through Amazon and, as expected, I got an email wanting to know why I wanted my money back:

 Sorry for the inconvenience caused by this.
>    Did you feel difficult to setup it up? Here have a video of how to setup and set the remote viewing for your information:

Also, we can arrange our tech-support to contact to help you solve the problem you meet. Did you need our tech-support to help you ?

Yeah, no. I can't do business with a business that sends emails like this. If I can't understand you, we cannot communicate properly. And if we cannot communicate properly, someone will be misunderstood.  And if one of us misunderstands the other, then I have no faith that my needs will be met, therefore, you aren't getting my money.  Furthermore, if I suspect that you are operating in another country, I will assume that you can and will run off with my money leaving me high and dry with no legal leg to stand on. How can I force someone in China to give me my money back? Psht, I won't be waiting around for that answer, sorry.
If I happen to change my mind about installing surveillance cameras around my house I'll go buy them from Costco, instead.  So my neighbors are safe from my wrath...for now.

Ass, ass, ass, make that ass clap. Drop it to the floor, make that ass shake

Just about every day I’ve been making a lunch time hike all the way across campus to the cafeteria hoping to run into a guy who clearly isn’t interested in me.  Haha. He’s just so good to look at.  I have no idea if he’s gay, straight, or married.  Nor do I know whether he’s a doctor, nurse, or technician.  I just spotted his magnificent ass (literally, his posterior) slightly bent over a hot tray of green beans one day when I was perusing the cafeteria, hungry as hell, looking for something edible. *ahem.  He was wearing light blue scrubs that day so, just like pajamas, the fabric left little to my imagination.  Firm, perfectly shaped and absolutely poppable, it was. Later I noticed that he is also tall with a nice chest and arms.  So either he is a gym rat or he comes from the loins of Adonis. Either way, I’m thankful.  I was on my cellphone that day and when I’d finally gotten in line to pay for my food, I saw him standing at the cutlery dispenser machine, facing me.  He must’ve felt my eyes all over him because he looked up and for just a moment, we locked eyes.  I was staring, he glanced and turned away.  No worries, though. I don’t know enough about him to take offense or be bothered by it.  All I know is that he is a feast for my eyeballs and I’d like to see him again. Yum. 

Much ado about nothing

I did nothing I set out to do yesterday afternoon. I’d written a list of things to do before leaving work yesterday. It was my only free afternoon/evening until Friday of this week so I wanted to be productive. Yet I got home and did none of what I’d planned to do. Well, I cooked dinner, that’s about the only thing from my list that got done. Sad, aint it? My dog distracts me, he’s just SO CUDDLY! © Little girl from Despicable Me. Plus the 2nd Presidential debate was on TV and I wanted to see it since I’d missed 75% of the first one. I have to get a strong hold of my time. All I seem to be doing is wasting it nowadays and that’s not good for all these plans I have. Granted, I don’t want to run myself ragged – going to work every day and then filling my evenings every night with things other than eating and resting – but I’ve got to do something. I can’t sit around waiting for things to happen to me. I want way too much. My supplemental property tax bill arrived in the mail yesterday, too, and even though I have my mortgage company take out a little with my monthly payment all year long, that high number on the bill still sank my stomach. I hate that I have to pay damn near 5k a year on property taxes on my little old house. So, of course, I checked to see if property values had declined in my area so that maybe I could be reassessed for a smaller amount, but no dice. It seems real estate is making a major rebound here. Dah well. I hear that interest rates are the lowest they’ve been in YEARS but I don’t know enough about refinancing to feel confident doing so. Too much to do and learn, and there’s no room at the top of my list for learning how to refinance right now, unfortunately. But no complaints here. I’m alive and well and moving and shaking. Life is good.

I think I'm coming down with something.  Either that or I am majorly exhausted.  My eyes burn and ache deep in their sockets.  That can't be good.  Today I drove all the way out to Thousand Oaks to visit a friend and hang out with a few other women.  One hour driving 70 mph in one direction.  It was indeed a trek.  But she's worth it.  It just sucks that the best of my friends are always so far away in this stretched out city. The drive back at 6 p.m. was beautiful, watching the sunlight leave its final streaks across hills, valley's and mountains. We sat outside by the pool, sipping various drinks, eating Thai food, watching her two bunnies hop around, and talking for hours.  I'm hoping that's why my eyes hurt and it's not because I'm coming down with something. I have too much to do to be sick right now.  No time to be out of commission.
I'm thinking about cutting all of my hair off and starting over.  I haven't lost my mind just yet, lol. I'm just trying to go natural and since I've been straightening my curls w/ a flat iron or some other type of heating device for the past 20 years, my hair is no longer as healthy as it used to be.  I've almost destroyed it so the curl pattern is not so much curly anymore.  It's wavy and straight and all out of whack.  In addition to having a healthy head of hair, I'd also like a healthier body so I'm going to slowly start to change my diet, which means I'm cutting out fast food first and foremost.  Eliminating sugar will undoubtedly be the hardest but I aim to do it.  I've gotten so out of shape and unhealthy, and I'd really rather not live my last days aching and paining or about to die of a heart attack.  I need my stamina and my waistline back.  I don't want to be a whale.
It's 10:30.  I can't fight it any longer; I'm going to bed.

My mom called at 10 am to say they'd be over by noon. I'd just sat up in bed at 10 am. It's a Sunday, I really dont feel like entertaining. I have too much to do today. Stuff that I didnt get done yesterday because they threw me off, calling me up at 8am to say that they'd be over by 10am so that I could help rent a car. I'm slightly annoyed and dont want to be bothered. So I called my mom back and asked if they could come by at 4pm instead, I have too much to do. She said okay. Now I'm on the gotdamn clock and have to make sure I'm done with everything I need to do by 4 friggin o'clock. Ugh. I hate being rushed, especially on my weekends. I spend all week rushing around until I finally go to bed; the last thing I want to do is spend my weekends rushing around. I havent been to the farmers market snce we got our dog in June. I havent been on a leisurely walk around my neighborhood by myself, without a dog pulling me since June. I'm tired of this shit. Yesterday I spent $101 dollars at Petco. All I bought was dog food and snacks for one dog. Clearly, I need to be in the dog business. My house never stays clean now that my son has graduated and hasnt found a job but adopted a needy dog, instead. I feel like I've started parenting all over again. I'm fantasizing about the day when they both move out and I can redecorate without them messing stuff up. I might even be able to buy a light colored sofa. I love everyone I'm complaining about but whats love got to do with it? Love is why I'm frustrated. If it werent for love, I wouldnt be $101 dollars lighter and complaining about it, I'd have a light colored sofa, and I'd have my weekends and farmers market runs back. I'd better get up, shower, wash blow dry and flat iron my hair, so that I can run to Target, Ralph's, Marshall's, Ross, the ATM, and the UPS store before 4 o'clock. Next weekend, I'm taking my life back.

I used to have a neighbor whose husband beat her almost daily.  Her name was Nicky and this was back when I lived in an apartment with my mom during my teens.  Nicky and her husband’s bedroom was directly below mines so I could often hear him punching and kicking her, yelling and berating her, even calling her mother on the phone to tell her what an awful daughter she had, all while Nicky cried and moaned.  Some days she wouldn’t come outside. I think it was because he didn’t want people to see her bruises.  But then, when she did emerge from their dirty apartment she was usually giggly, jovial, and all smiles.  And she had a really wide mouth so those smiles were huge, even despite her missing a few teeth.  She and I had become friends probably because we were somewhat close in age – she was 21 and I was going on 16. I remember she once told me that she loved sucking her husband’s breasts and found him to be incredibly sexy.  He looked like a gross, potbellied, stinky ogre to me, hair always unkempt and t-shirt always dingy.  She had two small children at the time, both under 24months old, and the four of them lived in that apartment with her mother-in-law, who never said a word about her son beating Nicky.  In fact, no one did until one day word on the block was that the neighborhood gang members were planning to catch Tom, her husband, and beat him. Tom heard about this so he stayed locked inside their apartment for weeks.  I can’t remember if I had ever asked Nicky why she stayed with him.  I probably didn’t at age 15/almost 16, but I think I might now, at age 37.  I just came to believe that there was something about their toxic relationship that she loved.  Maybe it was the passion of the beatings, all of her senses fully engaged, that made it a drug for her.  Adrenaline is addictive, isn’t it?  They’d usually end up having sex afterwards.  Or maybe she had never known love any other way.  I figured it wasn’t for me to understand.  After they moved away I often wondered about her, hoping he hadn’t killed her or put her in the hospital, hoping that their children were safe and happy.  Clearly, I still wonder.