Supermarket Stupidity

This post was prompted from my reading of this article this morning over coffee.

There’s a local grocery chain here called Basha’s. I think it’s the last remaining locally owned one. Hmmm… envisions the neighborhood… Fry’s, Fry’s, Albertsons, Fry’s… and Fry’s, which used to be local, got bought out years ago and in its current form, is a Kroger affiliate… Alpha Beta/ABCO’s been long gone for decades, so has Smitty’s (which was Canadian anyway), and Safeway’s the same ol’ California company. Yep, Basha’s is the only local one left.

I also can’t recall the last time I set foot in one. I got tired of their inflated prices. I got tired of their shelves never being restocked in a timely manner, and then from there, their selection on said shelves went downhill. I got tired of the stores having that heavy reek of the fryer that has been theirs since I was a kid; it slaps you in the face as soon as you walk in the door. I got tired of their meat section, just awful (and it used to be pretty decent). I got tired of their crummy bakery with tasteless cakes and foul little doughnuts, and a nasty produce section with poor quality fruits and vegetables. What I got REALLY tired of were their cranky, indifferent employees. For those reasons and others, I stopped going to their stores a long time ago. I think it’s been about three years. The last time I was there, I returned some Mother’s cookies that had – wait for it – some sort of spider webs or whatever inside the package. Ew.

I prefer having my wallet raped at Safeway over walking into a nasty Basha’s store.

Shift of Gears

At one point in my elation yesterday, I realized that when one blogs about an adoption journey, one should not have in the title “fail” or “failboat.” So, after much consideration, I decided that further discussions on this topic will be held in this venue. When I write there, I’ll notate it here, and vice versa.  Here’s where I’ll blather about the other topics of lesser gravity than this all-important journey.

Go to Meant to Be to see what happened yesterday.

~~

President Obama  is in town today. Big whoop. He’s going to Dobson High School–a stupid place for such a high profile visitor, since its fields are right off of a major thoroughfare. Someone didn’t think their cunning plan all the way through.

Instead of traipsing around here, why isn’t he in Washington, doing his job? What good does an expensive visit to the armpit of the valley really do?

GBTW, sir.

~~

The reservations I’d had in accepting my SIL’s offer for the Ireland trip are starting to rise to the top of the simmering cauldron. She’s given a directive that everyone shall only bring one carry-on, and when her mother said she was checking her bags in, SIL said something to the effect of  ‘then you’ll have to find your own way to the hotel’ because she isn’t going to wait for anyone who checks bags.

I shook my head when this exchange reached my ears. I’m usually the last one to defend my MIL (she drives me insane), but this is ridiculous and rude. SIL is determined to make everyone miserable before any of us steps on the plane.

I’ll bring it up at the dinner this weekend, in front of everyone. That way I have witnesses and she’ll have to control herself. Someone has to.

Why make it miserable? It’s going to be a make-or-break trip as it is.

~~

Back to work. More later.

Hell Hath Frozen Over

The Cardinals–referred to as the “Tards” in this neck of the woods–have made it to the Super Bowl. Satan needs a goose-down quilted jacket.

No, I am not thrilled. I despise that organization. Although I like Kurt Warner and Larry Fitzgerald personally, the franchise is a joke. I mean, jeez! They got kicked out of St Louis, fer crissakes. Then they come to Phoenix, butter up the idiots at Tempe City Hall and at ASU, and foist themselves on this town. The untold amounts of money the city of Tempe has dumped into the Bidwells’ flights of fancy was rewarded by yanking the Tards from the city. The only thing the city could hold on to and enforce was that the team may NOT leave the multi-million dollar practice facility at the southern end of town–so yeah, listen to this: they practice at the facility that is off of I-10 and Warner Road, but they play at the stadium that is at a minimum 45 minutes away. I wonder if the players get mileage reimbursement.

The location for the new stadium was a study in idiocy: one site was to be right in the flight path of Sky Harbor (you can’t have the blimps and other aircraft or fireworks in the flight paths, you morons), then they were going to put it at the junction of the 101 and 202 in Mesa. The problem with that was it was right in the river bottom, and the high water table there would have pumps running 24/7. See what kind of idiots they are? In the end, they brokered a deal in the west valley. The next folly was when the Bidwells bamboozled the taxpayers into paying for that monstrosity. Then they gave the bid for the stadium name to the worst and most screwed up for-profit education institution in the nation. What a comedy of errors.

At least with my team, the franchise paid for the new stadium. Jeezum Criminy, the Cards didn’t even have a) a winning team, b) a consistent fan base and/or c) enough attendees to ensure games get played locally–they didn’t need or deserve a new stadium. Hell, before last week’s playoffs, the franchise still had to beg the public to buy tickets so they wouldn’t be blacked out. That is a fact, ladies and gentlemen.

Despite the happy bleatings of the Repulsive and other media in the Valley (who have swung back and forth between blistering insults and rapturous praise all season like manic-depressives), there is quite a lot of indifference regarding the Tards despite their accomplishments these last couple of weeks. Really: look around the Phoenix metro area. When the Suns (hoops) or the D-Backs (baseball) are kicking ass, the valley is inundated with team colors and painted messages on car windows, and the team is on everyone’s tongue. Especially for the Suns–the town just gets slathered with purple and orange.

But for the Cards? The occasional window-held team flag, the runner at the top of the buses, the billboard on I-10 below the Buttes. People who don’t have a favorite team are just generally happy they’re in the Super Bowl. Anyone who is ecstatic–other than the dozen or so true-blue fans in town– haven’t attended a single game this season (I’m betting that the majority of the people at the stadium last night had not been there at all this season, if ever). People indifferent to football are happy because the team’s appearance in the SB is good exposure for Phoenix. However, the bottom line is that this town is not painted red and white for them. There is not that level of excitement here, and that’s a fact.

I know–Shut up! The forty millionaires watching the game at home joke refers to your Cowboys, too, pal–but the Cards in the SB is some kind of cosmic joke. I actually said once the game was over, “Hell hath frozen over.”

~~

The Pittsburgh/Baltimore game was definitely more to my liking. That was some freaking brutal football. There is a debate whether Clark initiated illegal and/or intentional helmet-to-helmet contact on Willis McGahee, and I don’t think so. Watch the replays: Clark dropped his shoulder to knock McGahee back–McGahee tried to get the lower position in reaction… I honestly think it was an unfortunate combination of split-second decisions by each of the players. There should be no fine, no suspensions. This is football, after all.

Best wishes for a speedy recovery to Mr. McGahee.

GO STEELERS!!

Quandary!

Since the day MIL pulled her guilt trip, I have had a hard time being civil to her. Not happy with the FIL, either, since he was her running dog. I’m fervently praying that Ma Nature thwarts her crap by sending a nice snowstorm to Denver on Christmas Day so it delays our flight home. That would just be delicious.

 

~~

 

There was a day, about six months ago, where my SIL and I were discussing Ireland. It evolved into a talk about a trip to Ireland, and then it became a trip for me and SIL to Ireland.  In the ensuing months, it became SIL, Princess Entitlement and me, then SIL, Princess Entitlement, MIL and me, and in its final form is now SIL, Princess Entitlement, MIL, Honorary Aunt, and me.

 

Oh boy.

 

Okay, I’m Back from Cloud Nine…

On Tuesday morning at about nine thirty, the phone at work rings. “Good morning, law office.”

“Hi babe.”

“Hey baby, how are you?”

“The eagle has landed.” Cryptic talk like this means that walls have ears.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. They want me to start on the twenty-ninth.”

Excitement was building. He was deadly calm, but being married to him, I know suppressed excitement when I hear it. “Oh, that’s wonderful. How much?”

He told me how much.

“WHAT?!” I screeched in surprise.

“Yeah.”

I think my eyes were blown right out of their sockets. I know that I spent the rest of the day trying to locate them and place them back into their orbits. Without advertising numbers, let’s just say that a) we’re hardly starving, but he was initially underpaid for his position where he is now, and hasn’t had a raise in two years because nobody there has any idea how to run a business and the business probably won’t exist by this time next year; and b) he not only jumps substantially to six figues in this new job, but also he has the potential of doubling our current income.

O. M. F. G.!!!

After about two minutes of fractured sentences punctated with “WOW,” and oblique references to benefits, my sweet husband says, “and now we can go forward with the adoption stuff because we can afford it now.” I melted.

After the phone call ended, I screeched with glee and clapped my hands. Then I sat in my chair, stunned, for about five minutes. After that, I maniacally stalked the office for about two minutes (good thing Boss was at court and I was alone). Finally, I had to share the great, wonderful, miraculous news; I called my friend in Indiana because he had kept me sane throughout this stressful period. Called his work, it went to voice mail; called his cell, went to voice mail, and I left a message. Then I emailed him. He finally popped up on Facebook’s chat and typed, “?” He was wonderful and I thanked him three different times for being there through the crisis.

I went to lunch, but I didn’t know initially where I was going. Didn’t matter; I was thanking God aloud repeatedly, tears streaming down my cheeks, as I tried to drive. The relief is that profound. Talk about depths to the heights!

I wound up at Sonora Brewery, the first person there. I entered, stopped, stared, and I said to Cindy and Liz, “A miracle has happened.” Then I did something I never have done before: I had a lovely hefeweisen with my lunch in celebration. I texted the husband and said I was having a beer with lunch; he texted back, “a day to celebrate indeed!” We went to Chinese for dinner in celebration.

Oh, praise God. Thank God! It’s only this evening, Thursday, that I have come down from the high enough to type a thing. Granted, the next six weeks or so we’ll still have to mind the pennies, but God, it’ll be so nice to not have to freak out at the end of every pay period.

~~

Naturally, the first thing we discussed once the first excitement wore off was the agreement that our spending habits can’t change. Let’s get the car paid off, then my student loan paid down, and we can go from there. Of course, we can pick up where we left off on the adoption application.

The relief for both of us is huge, financially and stress-wise, we can relax. We can enjoy the hell out of Vail, and not have to watch every single penny spent. We can enjoy and know we can pay the Visa down by the end of January when the statement comes.

I love it. The feeling is wonderful. It’s a miracle indeed.

I Really Was Going Somewhere With Yesterday’s Post

Honest.

On and off headaches for four straight days kinda kills the thought processes, eh? I’ll finish the thought here before the next onslaught.

~~

Where I was going to go as I talked about flowers and vegetables and gardening before the headache hit full stride is that lately I’ve been intrigued with the idea of straw bale gardening (also referred to as “no dig“). If you do a Google search, many sites will pop up and there are several ways to prep the bales. It’s apparently wonderful for those with bad knees (me) or bad backs, and once the bale is exhausted it can be used for mulch. It’s a wonderful alternative to messing around and digging in the soil. It’s supposed to be good for lettuces, beans, zucchini, cucumbers, tomatoes… but I wonder if I could do strawberries? I haven’t seen anything where I can. That would be freaking awesome. Herbs would be phenomenal–just clip whatever I need, instead of paying the usurious prices for a wilted bunch of thyme or whatnot.

But I wonder, would it not really do well in this climate?

I know I can do it in NC. Yippee! Here are some blogs to read. Completely intriguing.

 I think I’ll buy a bale after the new year, weather it, and play around with it. I’ll start with herbs and go from there. I can’t wait to have all the parsley I want.

~~

On the political front, people are up in arms about Obama picking all these Clintonites. The source’s response is that people who served for Carter are too old now; what a line of bullshit. The answer is simple, really: it’s time for Obama to pay the piper, so he has to hand out the goodies to the greedies. And the crowd is pushy and greedy for the spoils of his victory–how high is too high of a price to pay for his election? We’ll find out.

I’m sorry folks… but change, my ass. Boy, has he bamboozled people. Change stopped as soon as he picked Biden, that nominal Catholic, as veep. Nobody should be surprised. Politics as usual.

Two potential picks for his cabinet I consider a joke: the gauche and waspish Hillary Clinton as Secretary of State, and do-nothing Janet Napolitano as DHS chief? The former already has the lawyers out to pressure Obama–I wonder what the agreement before the nomination really said? Hmmm. And she’s already suspect by other countries, and by her husband’s conflicts of interest.

The latter has had me chuckling ruefully for the last couple of days–oh, he’ll be sorry about that one. Janet has sought to either ignore or overturn the voter initiatives re illegal immigration–this is the LAST person we need in this office. She has been a terrible governor of this state, a border state no less, that has huge problems with the flood of illegals. Other than that, the Repulsive runs an article about Janet and how much she loves her daddy for the feel good effect every few months. Janet has otherwise been a bust as governor.

Oh, it’s going to be a wild ride, folks: hold on to your seats.

Not Terribly Verbose Today

This is the time of year that I’m getting a blizzard of offers for seeds and bulbs, plants and rosebushes via the sites I’ve subscribed to. I would die to plant coleus and hollyhock, acres of roses, lavender, tulips, veggies and herbs, amaryllis, hydrangea, callas and cannas, helleborus, clematis and peonies.

Not bloody fucking likely in this climate.

That’s part of the excitement of the eventual relocation to northern North Carolina. Hell, anywhere that has freaking cold temps in November would be great–it was 89 degrees here yesterday. No, that’s not an exaggeration. On November 18, it was 89 officially in Phoenix, a record high.

So my roses muddle through the stultifying heat of the summers, and once the summer goes away, I’m limited to things that can survive wacky temps like we’re having right now. You know… like lantana and alyssum. Lobelia likes the cooler temps but can deal with the spike. Snapdragons have their issues once it gets too hot. And so on.

~~

Not in the mood for writing much. Four weeks left of school. Still nothing resolved re DH’s job, and therefore nothing resolved with adoption. I’m beginning to despise how my boss disappears for four hours, and then complains that X isn’t getting done. That’s not my problem.

Grumpy and still hanging on tenterhooks.

More later when I feel like it.

Salted Slug, That’s Me

My response to stress is not like others’ response: many people become manic. They go nuts, can’t sit still, work out more, walk more, talk more, etc.

I become a salted slug.

I get depressed. I stop all activity. I stop hiking, walking, working out. I sit on the compy or read interminably to get my brain off of the topic. I ignore my body. I mindlessly eat a shitload of cheddar Goldfish. This time around, I’m back on Warcraft, which actually still bores the hell out of me, but I’m back in touch with old pals, which makes the boredom tolerable (my saving grace is that I’m not getting the expansion pack). I ignore my homework until the day before it’s due, instead of the good habit of doing my homework on a quiet Sunday.

With any luck, all of that is going to change. Last night, I was typing back and forth with a pal on WoW when DH calls out, “Baby!”

The tone broke me out of my trance. “Yeah?”

“Come here!”

The one night that he leaves his cell in the car is the one day there’s an important message on it. The one company he was hoping to go to had their recruiter contact DH and say, “They want to hire you ASAP.” The problem was that it was already nine, so it has to wait until today.

So last night, and this morning before I left the house, we’re cautiously happy. It depends on the offer they make. Dan’s condition is that it’s contract to hire–and the guy who interviewed him was having difficulties getting his boss to give him the green light. The downside to the contract deal is that we’ll have to do COBRA for three months–not cheap–but you just cannot be without health insurance these days.

So things are looking up.

~

The preliminary offer means that once an appropriate offer is made, we can go forward with the adoption process. For obvious reasons (see previous posts), it was on hold. Assuming it’s an appropriate offer, we’ll sit down, complete it, and send it in to the agency. Then we’ll have to wait anyway for the application and the fingerprints to crawl through their process.

Cross your fingers, please.

~~

Yesterday, the media was all panicky over the ’skinhead plot’ on Obama’s and 102 other people’s lives. Funny, by this morning, it’s been diffused to a couple of idiotic wanna-bes spouting off with racist bullshit.

Nice little piece of fearmongering.

~~

I can’t wait until November 5. Since I truly believe that neither candidate is appropriate for the highest office, it won’t be with a sense of relief in that regard. Rather, it will be a release from all of the ridiculous media bullcrap.

I am wary of Barack Obama because after all of this time, nobody still really knows who he is; he’s been cleansed of any real past (his flighty mother has been elevated to sainthood and his absentee father is not spoken of at all). I’m not an ignorant fool–I know he’s no Arab or Muslim, or any of that ridiculous rumor mill bullshit–but really, who is this first-term senator from Illinois? Why are people so hysterical over him? That kind of mindless hysteria bothers me, and I don’t care who is the object of the hysteria. Old biddys who are vehemently anti- many liberal stances are voting for him, but can’t explain why to save their souls. It’s a weird phenomenon. And where in the hell did he come from that he has this insane rise?  Nobody heard of him until about a year and a half ago.  

I’m no fan of John McCain, either; he represents my congressional district, and as far as senators go, he’s been relatively steady and all of that; certainly he’s no Ted Stevens. For me, the only thing going for him is that he is a known quantity compared to Mr. Obama.  I’m not worried about his age–look at his ass-kicking mother–but I do wonder about his legendary rages, his irrationality, his vindictiveness. I do not believe he’s Bush, Continued–people who are saying that could never then vote for many people, as for the majority of the time, a candidate of a particular party will vote for the party line the vast majority of the time. Duh. But McCain has many weaknesses that makes him equally undesirable as a potential president.

DH has wished often that we were voting for the Veep candidates–both of them are more desirable than their running mates. You want change? Let’s aim for Sarah Palin: she’s a charmer and a half, smart, witty, and has actually held her own in the ghastly mud-slinging from the media and everyone else. Talk about a woman with guts! Have you noticed that every single thing they try to pin on her has pretty much slid off, much like egg off teflon? Not that I’m naive enough to think that she’s faultless–not like my boss, who has been useless since her nomination, praising her to the skies every chance she can–but then none of the four represent the lily of a blameless life.

Eh, that’s just dreaming. Don’t fool yourselves, folks: we’re screwed either way this election cycle.

~~

The paint is done and the tile is in. It’s beautiful. I like the fact that I can Swiffer the place. I’ll post on that later–it’s phenomenal.

~~

I don’t care what is written about me as long as it isn’t true.  –Katharine Hepburn

Hold Your Horses, Bucko

Without going into detail, let’s just say that hubs got wind of an email he wasn’t supposed to see.

Let’s also just say that his fingers are worn to stubs with firing off resumes all weekend.

Let’s also add that the company he works for is run by complete imbeciles who have made decisions where I, no business major, was going WTF?

Add to this a warning from Hubs’ friend, who said, essentially, that he couldn’t tell Hubs anything in an email, but GTFO, now. No really, get out, run… and he’ll tell Hubs in person when he gets a chance.

This is not good.

Naturally, this puts everything on hold. I’m on tenterhooks, praying that the blizzard of resumes he’s been sending out get nibbles and then a hook.

So much for hoping that we were finally ahead and stable. Fuckity fuck fuck.

Weekend Roundup

Ahhh… *sits down for the first time all day*

I think summer’s back is broken… not that the temps are out of the hundreds yet, but because the early mornings are now back in the mid-80s. It was 80 this morning at a 6:40a, and it was WONDERFUL. I would have gone for a hike, except that I had weeds and overgrown vines screaming for attention in the front yard. So I went for coffee at the aforementioned hour, went to Wally World before all of Guadalupe woke up, and not only sprayed the weeds and clipped some of the stuff in the front, but I also washed and waxed my car.

I am all kinds of awesome today.

~~

Progress is as progress does: I started out so well in the gym, and then Boss went into a week’s worth of conniptions that shot all plans, before and after work, to hell. Then school started, throwing me off even more. I have been skating at CSC on Wednesdays, and catch the occasional Pima Canyon hike now that the weather’s nicer. I haven’t been to the gym in about three weeks, and if I get through other stuff today, I’ll head up the street.

~~

I do not understand why a set of inline bearings are upwards of $40. I say “40″ because generally I’ve seen them between $35 and $43. So let’s take my rough average: 40/16=2.5. So $2.50 per bearing? Seriously? When it costs maybe $.50 to make them? What a fucking racket.

I’m looking for bearings so that I have dedicated indoor bearings vs. outdoor. I have the stock bearings in my new wheels to mess around on the Sport Court, and the dirt from the outdoor skating have trashed them. I have to get new ones for indoor.

And Dave wonders why I won’t commit to a league right now… I bought my hockey ‘girdle’ for $60 a couple of weeks ago. I got a stick and a puck last week to play around with. I have to parcel out the spending, and then league fees, too? Not yet. January, I promise.

~~

After five years in our house, we’re finally getting rid of the fuschia carpeting. I told the lady from the flooring place about it, and she didn’t believe me until I told her. When she came to measure, she walked in the door and stopped. She blinked and said, “Wow.” So we’re getting a mix of tile and carpet, and running the same carpet up the stairs and through the upstairs hallway. We’ll do the bedrooms at our leisure.

Better Half was thinking that we could do ~1200sf for under three grand. He’s on crack, especially since we have chosen some better materials than one might actually choose for a house that will be sold in the next couple of years.

Oh, I can’t wait–I have hated this carpet since the moment we first saw this house, but events conspired against us to change it. I’ll post before and after pics, perhaps make its own page. You will understand my joyous backflips when you see.

~~

All right, off to homework land. See ya later.