I'm Bad

ReplyTo: CustomerService@salliemae.com

Subject: Your Sallie Mae statement is ready to view

Arrghh!

The #1 Daughter has been in South Africa for two months. She's just finished her training for the Peace Corps and now has moved to her permanent village in Zulu land where she will utilize her college degree in Public Health and it's emphasis on Epidemiology (study of infectious diseases.)

She will be there for the next two years and I'm left in charge of her banking account and making sure $$$ are transferred to take care of her concerns here in the States. One of which was paying off her student loan. I did so. Sent them a cashier check from her account which she has put me on as a co-signer. I called Sallie Mae @ the start of March, got the payoff and requested information on interest for the few days the check would be in transit. Thought we had it covered. The Daughter gets an email today w/her new statement. She owes 82 cents.  ????

I call them.  When all is said and done here's the email I just sent her:


Dear Daughter:

Okay, gotta love bureaucrats...not. Sent cashiers check in March, specifically asked for payoff w/grace from postal stamp date or additional interest for mail time whichever they preferred, just tell me what I need to send ... some companies use the posted date as their cutoff, but no. Not Sallie Mae. And the amount I sent ended up not being correct. Anyway instead of paying off 2 of the 3 loans completely they left a little principal on each loan for the few days lag time between when I sent it and when they posted it. Total was about .82. ???? Seriously? So I call and tell my main man Jeremy, I'm going to use my visa cash card to pay it. Today. Instead he wanted to bill me? Huh? "No, let's just do it now, save you postage and me trying to guess how much interest I'm going to have to pay this time and still not get the thing totally paid off." "Well... okay," he says. Doesn't seem to want to do it. He tells me he'll have to charge a minimum of $1 to the card so I'll end up overpaying .18.

Really?

I cheerfully answer, "That's fine. It's a check card which means it's going to cost Sallie Mae .85 cents to process it, you (Sallie Mae) will get .15. So, in the ultimate nod to stupidity, when we're done with all this nonsence we will have wasted your time and I'll have had the satisfaction of doing it. So at this point I'm thinking win-win!"

"Ahhh," he says. Pause. "Is there anything else we can do for you today?"  Me, "No, I'm good."

Anyway a statement is supposed to show up within 30 days in the mail showing that the loan is paid - free & clear and you should be getting an email. Oh, by the way, to save confusion I used your name. He thinks you're a bitch.

Love you.  Bye

Why Would I Lie?

Love the English language. Just wish I had a better command of it...

Last month there was an article from the St. Louis Post-Dispatch talking about a guy who had claimed he was a decorated war hero.

Never happened. So they were trying to pass a law making it illegal to claim you had received awards from the armed services when you actually had not. I understand the concept but that First Amendment is kind of a sticky little thing. You can get into trouble for liable - knowingly saying untrue things about others and defaming their character but lies? I guess everyone has their own perspective, a better question might be what is truth? Following is an excerpt from the article:

The most pathetic lies are protected by the First Amendment.  The First Amendment to the constitution reads, in part, "Congress shall make no law...abridging the freedom of speech."


The notion that anyone falsely would claim to have been decorated is despicable, contemptible, infuriating, outrageous and other adjectives precluded by space and taste.

Okay, I just don't want to deal w/the guy who's lying about being a decorated war hero.
What I want to talk about is that last sentence.

Is that not a great piece of writing? And I love the... other adjectives precluded by space and taste.

How often have you listened to people or read things that absolutely precluded any pretensions to taste, or even demonstrated the ability to utilize the English language proficiently?  (Disclaimer: Can I stomp around in the mosh pit with the best of them?  Well...unfortunately yes.) But I also have a great appreciation for being able to prove oneself semi-literate or at least pretend you have access to a dictionary. Go read some of Winston Churchill's stuff. Especially some of his one line retorts.  My personal favorite is one fired at Lady Astor, (neither of whom apparently cared for the other) She: "Sir, if you were my husband, I would poison your tea!" To which Winston Churchill replied, "Madame, if you were my wife, I would drink it."

What a fabulous come back! Today you seldom hear an outrageous compliment or an extraordinary put down. Most of the time someones displeasure is just expressed with a "f*** you."

Really?  That's it? Guess one doesn't have to worry about a continuing dialog or discussion to resolve any issues. Everyone just walks away with the f-bomb hanging in the air.

So to the guy lying about his war medals. Shame on you. Further discussion of your integrity is indeed prohibited by space and taste. There's a whole movie about "Why would I lie?" It's kinda of funny on an entertainment level...in real life, no.

We have freedom of speech in this country. We have and enjoy many more freedoms that people across the world can only dream about. I wish we all appreciated that fact more.

Boys Are Gross!

Seriously...

The Youngest gets off the Transit Bus, crosses the parking lot and hops in our rig.

"Wow," he says. "Couldn't wait to get out of there. I've had the worse case of gas and have been holding it all the way from Richland."

?????

"Those chicken sandwiches they serve in the cafeteria at school are toxic!"

I look at him in alarm.



Too late.

The fumes almost make my eyes water. I hurriedly roll down the window.

HE just sits there and grins. He thinks he's funny.


And they wonder why people abuse their children....

Private Club

The Youngest has been a naughty boy and has been grounded for the last two weeks. This means, in part, that his driving privileges have been temporarily revoked.

Win, win situation for me. I have to go to Richland to work out anyway, so I can run him to school, he gets his dose of discipline as his buddies see him dropped off by his mommy and then I head for the club. This gets me to a water aerobics class that is just one hour earlier than the one I usually attend. Only difference is that the ladies in class all range in the late 60's to 70's + years old, instead of the 40-50 range in the later class. So, nice women, but most are my mother's age.

One sweet woman, named Leah, belongs to the same church as I, just attends a different ward. She goes out of her way to include me and the past two weeks have been fun getting to know her.

Today, Joan shows up.

Everyone else knows her but it's the first time I've seen her. Been on vacation, maybe? Leah & I are talking, she sees Joan and motions her into our "circle." Leah leans forward conspiratorially and whispers to Joan, "She's one of us."

I look at the rest of the octogenarians. I'm a little concerned. How old does she think I am?????

OH!

She means I'm LDS.

Whew!

That I can live with. Welcome to the club!!!!

Senior Citizen Discounts

When you are in your late 40's, AARP starts a letter campaign offering you membership and regular mailings/magazines.  Most of us aren't feeling it and file the paper trail in the garbage.

With the official retirement age at 65 and threatening to go higher "we" have a hard time dealing with/thinking about aging issues.

Boomers look in the mirror, apply our potions & lotions and blithely go on our way.

Sometimes we get a little reality check.

Like today.

I went into a store and at the check out counter a perky, young clerk informed me that there was a 10% senior citizens discount.

I hemmed & hawed, until she continued by telling me their discount started at age 55.

Damn.

I just turned 55. And allowing myself a private delusion, I was sure I didn't look it.

The $1.34 I saved was not adequate compensation for my deflated ego.

I trudged back to my van w/my bags and as I settled in the cell phone rang. It was Farm Boy. We chatted and I related the incident to him.

I was kinda laughing.

He immediately and cheerfully states, "For what it's worth, I've never been offered a discount."

????

Ha, Ha. It is to laugh. Funny guy.

You know there's an old Arabic curse that goes something like....

May the fleas of a thousand camels infest your (ahem - edit) armpits.

I know, cranky.

Hows About I Just Buy Some Support Hose Instead

Stuff happens.

I know that.

Tonight for instance.

I was asked to do a fireside with another person. I was prepared, but...

We got started a little late. There were a few technical difficulties. Then had an uncomfortable moment when a young person who couldn't read very well struggled through a story. When we switched speakers we kinda lost control of the crowd.

Sigh.

The best part?

At the start The Youngest walked in, followed by Farm Boy. I wasn't quite sure why Farm Boy was there. It was a youth fireside, in a smallish room. Seating was going to be at a premium. I gently mentioned that to him. "I'm here to support you," he staunchly announced, and parked himself.

Umm.  Okay.

Anyway, kids pretty much end up hanging from the ceiling. Second speaker does a slow wrap up. Dessert lady is impatiently demanding to know when we'll be finished.

Well, when all is said and done...better luck next time, eh?

I get home.

Farm Boy informs me that he left at 10 minutes after eight. "You know," he says, "you only have about 45 minutes, then you're thru, you lose their attention."

Really?

He continues, "It was pretty bland...they liked the fan charts tho, but you...blah blah, blah blah, blah, blah and on he goes."

Yes. I know.

It was easier to just get up and leave the room.

I mentioned there were SEVERAL things out of my control? I was well aware what they were as they were happening and in the end, one excuse (or explanation) is just about as good as the other. BUT I'm so glad he stayed to offer his support and provide his constructive critique. One wouldn't want any mushy sympathy or understanding, or...better yet...tactful silence.

He's good like that.

-

Walk the Line

A while ago I started a somewhat sarcastic post along the lines of "how I spent" my summer.  Tried to keep it short but...

Awwww f'getaboutit!

So since May I've had 3 surgeries. During the first one I had a doctor induced infection leading to a ruined knee, 2 additional surgeries including a complete knee replacement. Finally 9 months later, they tell me it's about as good as it's going to get. Still not great but certainly better than being in a wheelchair.
Somewhere along the line I also managed to injure my shoulders. More about that later.

Meanwhile, It's the middle of Feb. and I need some hay for my horse. Finding hay in late winter is not always easy. I usually try not to put myself in the position of doing it but this year...well, all things considered...

So I call a guy, make an appointment, make sure The Youngest is available to help load, 'cause remember - shoulders? I can't. But our intrepid farmer finds himself in Walla Walla when we're supposed to be at his place in Hermiston. He wants me to come out at another time more convenient for him, unfortunately then I'd have no help to load and would soon be out of hay. As I try to explain why that would be difficult for me the guy starts making noise, gets all snitty and wow...it just pulled my plug!  He's not where he's supposed to be, when he's supposed to be and he gives ME static??????

But I was good.

I didn't yell, or anything, I just calmly told him that I guessed we were done then, and discontinued the call.

He thought about it for a minute and called back. I may have pushed the "reject call" button. But it went to voice mail and he left a short apology.

Fine. Whatever.

Two days later he calls again. I didn't look at the number before I answered my cell phone and before I  know it, my favorite jackass farmer was on the line. He doesn't want to lose business and offers some explanations plus tells me about the unfortunate incident a few weeks ago when a few bales fell on his shoulders...so he hurts too. But he does have a loader and wouldn't be doing it by hand anyway soooo...the point of his story about his owies was????

It didn't really matter. I'd already found another hay source and politely told him that. BUT he wanted me to know that I'd just caught him at a awkward moment, he really wasn't a bad guy and would like me to keep him in mind if I needed any hay in the future.

????

Okay. But like, only if I'm totally desperate, yes?

Meanwhile, I wish him well. I hope his injuries heal. Bye-bye.

As for me, well....those shoulders???  After a couple of MRI's, physical therapy and... Gosh, no one (doctors at least) seem to know what happened, however the cartilage in the right shoulder is all torn up. They'll be happy to shoot cortisone in it for as long as I want, and when I simply can't stand the pain anymore - then they'll be happy to do a total shoulder joint replacement. My family doctor tells me shoulder surgery is one of those operations you absolutely want to avoid if at all possible.

WHAT?

I know somethings just "are." That's life, you play the cards you're dealt and deal with it.

But, this voice inside me, still wants to ask: It wasn't that way, at all, last May, before you started to mess with my life. And I'd like to know about the perfect, fingerprint bruises on my right arm after the one surgery, and exactly what you did to my arm.


Ah, but no one's talking, are they? And little things, like reaching behind me, picking up anything heavier than 15 lbs. much less lifting a light, grass hay bale? Probably never going to happen again. It shouldn't be. But...

In the words of someone famous....prove it.