If This is What it Takes...

I have been trying to sign up for and pay for one class for the last week and a half. ONE CLASS! In the process, I have had to visit the registrar three times, admissions once, and human resources once. I finally got it taken care of today- I think. This letter/rant is dedicated to the jerkface at the registrar's office who is apparently too cool to do his job.

Dear Registrar Jerkface,
You are lucky you did not get a stiletto up your nose today. Yes, I am a girl. Yes, I could kick your ass from here to next Tuesday. Is it really that hard to process my request the first time I come to visit you? I mean, maybe I stuttered but really, how hard is it to hear "my husband is a full time, contracted, tenure track professor. Do you need his ID number?" Really that is all the information you should have needed to process my tuition waiver. Please do not tell me that we are not married. I beg to differ. If we are not married, whose socks have I been picking up off the floor for the last four and a half years?

Also, I know how to tell time. I have known this since I was what...six? Please do not tell me that I have not wasted my life away waited in line for over 30 minutes because, yes, between last week and today I have stood in your stupid line for almost 45 minutes to get the same ONE thing taken care of. I guess you don't think I have better things to do. Well, let us get this straight- I do. The papers will not grade themselves, the student teachers will not observe themselves, the book will not read itself, the grocery shopping will not do itself, and well, you get the picture.

There was also no need to smirk and talk to me like I was three. If you want to judge me for signing up for graduate classes, go right ahead. I am sorry you are living in 1954 where women are expected to stay home with the kiddos while Daddy goes off to work. What a lovely picture, you can go watch it on TV Land as I hear they are still airing The Dick Van Dyke Show. I, for one, don't have any kiddos running around. And that is beside the point anyway. I am a fairly intelligent individual and am pretty confident that I could handle at least one class, work, and kiddos (and I could probably also manage to wrangle said kiddos up in the Wal-Mart parking lot so as they do not get run over). Maybe that is because my husband, the aforementioned tenure track professor, is capable of fixing said future kiddos dinner (even if it is just grilled cheese, or macaroni and cheese, or crackers and cheese, or some other cheese related meal) and entertaining them for a couple hours once a week. But then again, you would probably judge him too. Your snarky tone did nothing but tick me off. It did not discourage me from signing up for a class. I am also fairly confident that I could out-snark you anyday. You would leave in tears, probably pulling a stiletto out of your nose.

I hope you enjoy your work study job sitting in the window at the registrar's office. And I also hope that my little form declaring that I am married to my husband- the man with the SAME last name living at the SAME address as I- gave you a paper cut.

Sincerely,
The girl that wears stilettos in the snow

P.S. It is amazing that, the second I got to speak with her, the real live grownup at the next window was able to take care of this little problem in a fairly expedited way.

Life Lesson #3974- The Peanut Butter Will Not Kill You

I like Peter Pan peanut butter- it is pretty much the only peanut butter that I like. Skippy is gross and JIF will not do. But once again, my peanut butter has been yanked from the shelves due to a supposed poisoning. Some of us remember this unfortunate incident:
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October 7, 2007
I really miss Peter Pan peanut butter :-( For those of you that do not remember, it was recalled in February after an unfortunate incident with a leaky sprinkler and an outbreak of salmonella. Shortly thereafter, they pulled the creamy goodness that was Peter Pan peanut butter from grocery store shelves all over the country. I, like many others, rushed to my pantry to determine whether or not I had any potentially deadly peanut butter and, much to my dismay, discovered that I did. Well, the entire process to claim my three dollar refund seemed way too time consuming at the time and, since I was only losing out on about three bucks, I decided I would just throw it away.....eventually. Well, eventually never came. And then one day.......the rice cakes came calling.....”top me with peanut buttery goodness.” So, now I had a decision to make- eat the diseased peanut butter and risk a horrible stomach ache from salmonella or let my butter popcorn rice cakes go naked. I guess I could have gone to the store and bought some new, non diseased peanut butter but that would mean potentially getting dressed and venturing into the night (this could have been an afternoon episode but it was months ago and I do not remember). Salmonella/Instant Gratification....hmmmm......Instant Gratification!!! So, I ate the peanut butter....in fact, I ate two whole jars of the peanut butter! (Not at the same time, but eventually) I half expected to be making a midnight run to the emergency room to have my stomach pumped, but that didn't happen. In fact, I was fine but little did I know that would be the last Peter Pan peanut butter I would eat, possibly forever :-( For the last seven months I have had to live with second rate peanut butter on my rice cakes. All I have to say is....choosy moms should never choose JIF. It is HORRIBLE!!! I would rather take my chances with salmonella! So, I did the only thing I could think of, I wikipediaed Peter Pan....because we all know that if it is on wikipedia then it MUST be true....and was very happy to see it would be returning in August to a grocery store near me. Well....its October and still no sign of the stuff.

Dear whoever makes Peter Pan peanut butter,
Please give me back my peanut butter with the androgynous little sprite on the front. I miss it and Skippy and JIF are just not the same. I promise I will not sue you if I get salmonella.

Thanks!

Now before anyone gets their panties in a bunch, I would never feed diseased peanut butter to my children. Had I had any, I would have bought them fresh, new, choosy moms peanut butter free of salmonella, e. coli, mad cow, smallpox, scurvy, cholera, and dysentery. But I was pretty confident my immune system could handle it.
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My distress ended when my friend Mona overnighted me some delicious Peter Pan peanut butter thus preventing me from having to stomach the nonsense that is JIF. And then we moved to Utah and apparently they hadn't yet gotten the memo that peanut butter was off the FDA's "Foods That Will Kill You" list and I once again had trouble finding my brand. After about a month of living here, I finally found some at Target of all places. Eventually, it filtered back to the grocery stores and my rice cakes had a cromulent (Wikipedia=true, remember?) companion, until now- damn salmonella. I guess I will have to make another trip to the closest Target- 30 minutes away- and hope they have not yet gotten the memo that Reduced Fat Creamy Peter Pan Peanut Butter is once again deadly!

One movie I guess I won't be seeing

Leave it to Utah to decide for me that I do not want to be morally corrupted. One of the larger movie theater chains in the state has apparently banned the movie "Zack and Miri Make A Porno" from its screens. You can read the story here if you so desire. Following lead, many other movie theaters are also not showing the movie and some TV stations won't advertise it. I find this pretty ridiculous how the movie is not a porno, doesn't show a porno, and is apparently void of any pornographic material. The rationale was the movie was very close to receiving an NC-17 rating. It did not, it is, in fact, rated R- a perfectly respectable film rating. I have been watching R rated movies since I was 10- I haven't turned into a pyschopath, a sex fiend, or a drug adict.

I guess during the showing of High School Musical 3- a neatly packaged, G rated, Disney movie- some movie theater worker guy reeled up the wrong movie and subjected the audience of children to the movie "Sex Drive" for a few minutes. Since then everyone has been in a moral tizzy. Well:

Dear Utah,
The laziness/stupidty/mistake of one theater working high school student is not my fault. Are you meaning to tell me that none of the adults in the room thought something was wrong when the previews were for other R rated movies instead of sugar pop, Disney ones? Maybe the parents of said HSM3 viewing children should have been more aware to the fact that, right before the movie began, a rating flashed on the screen saying the following movie is rated R please remove your impressionable, young children from the theater.

It is really my choice as to what movies I want to watch- whether it be a cute little Disney flick or a movie about two roommates making a porno- yeah, up to me to decide- I am a grownup, thanks! Here is a thought, if you don't want the young and impressionable to wonder into an R rated movie- look at their IDs when they buy the tickets. Not too difficult, I used to do it all the time. Or even better, show the morally lacking films later in the evening when said young and impressionable should be snuggled nicely into their little, sheltered beds.

Isn't it enough that the Salt Lake City NBC station will not carry Saturday Night Live? I guess TV-14 is too scandalous for late night television. I mean, you carry all those daytime soaps. But then again, I guess daytime soaps fall under the realm of fiction. Once again, I am a grownup and I am fully capable of choosing my own television programs. You really must think people in this state are dumb if you think one little late night show is going to indoctrinate them with crazy ideas.

And while we are at it, was it really necessary to ban Mike's Hard Lemonade? Does it really look that much like Sprite? Is the under 21 crowd in Utah that stupid? Can parents not tell the difference? Do they mistakenly give their kids Malt Liquor instead of juice? Again- not my fault. Please do not punish my tailgate party due to the stupidity of others. I mean, I guess I could border jump to Idaho for all my tailgate needs. But then again, I am rarely in the mood for getting arrested for rum running- which I hear you do often.

On the other hand- maybe I should thank you, morally decent Utah, for saving my mind from corruption. Good luck repairing it from the last 27 years.

Sincerely Yours,
The Apparently Morally Deficient

Flashback to the HPT

Dear Kid in Beat Up Honda Prelude,

You may think you are cool pulling up next to girls at stop lights in your beat up old Honda Prelude with your shiny, spinny rims and revving the engine and beeping our horn but in reality you look like an idiot that spent more money on his rims than on his actual car. Seriously, they stopped making Honda Preludes in 2001. A Wikipedia search discovered that yours probably originated somewhere between 1983 and 1987. That means you probably weren't even born when your car was made. How do I know this- well, Wikipedia told me so and we all know that if it is on Wikipedia, it must be true. Besides, your car had that whole boxy thing that was so popular in the 80s going on. I mean, you could maybe sell the thing for $1500- if you are lucky. That is actually being pretty generous considering Kelly Blue Book doesn't even value cars from 1987. The rims alone probably cost you $1000- and that is being conservative. Never mind the super cool racing stripe you had painted down the side. In all actuality, those rims could have cost you way more. I know, I am from the HPT- people rice out Geo Metros...talk about a waste of money. I have seen these POS cars blinged out beyond recognition. Trust me, they don't look cool and neither do you. Your money would have been better spent adopting one of those TV kids who is in need of shoes and toothpaste.

Sincerely,
The Girl Stopped Next to You Who Doesn't Care How Much Your Rims Were

Dear People Who Used to Own Our House,

I realize this letter is a little late in coming but I just wanted to take a moment to publicly thank you for leaving our new house in such a stellar condition when you vacated. Really, it is fun for me to go around with various cleaning implements rubbing your kids grubby finger prints off appliances, cabinets, TVs, and sliding glass doors. I am really curious to know how your kids even got their hands as high as they did to make some of those prints. Oh, you think those prints may have been from Dr. HokieKev and I? I don't think so- are hands aren't that tiny, we aren't Chinese gymnasts. Anyway, wiping up the fingerprints wasn't all that big of a deal I suppose. At least not compared to the nastiness you left in the microwave and oven. Seriously, did you think we weren't going to notice the spaghetti sauce gooked on the top of the microwave or all the gunk in the oven. I mean, I know you have two small kids but honestly, how hard is it to take a paper towel to the microwave or hit the self clean button on the oven. I know from experience that it is not hard as I completed these tasks in the first two minutes of trying to cook dinner for the first time.

And speaking of the first time...what a wonderful surprise it was when our Realtor opened the freezer when she let us in the house only to be greeted by a landslide of ice. I understand removing the ice bucket from the freezer to clean it/dry it out but usually people hit the ice maker's off switch after the bucket is removed. Maybe you thought we would need literally a freezer full of ice when we got into town. Even if I made enough frozen beverages for the whole neighborhood, I would not have used all the ice. Instead it ended up on the hardwood floors. If ice did not melt, I would still be picking it up. Of course, all our towels were en route so we had to improvise that clean-up.

Its also really cool that you never forwarded your mail to wherever you are living now. It doesn't really bother me that much as you are the ones out those Gymboree coupons. I do, however, suggest you get the mail forwarded. We have at least 6 bills for your business. I would think that you would want to make sure these all get paid on time and, while we are happy to rewire the house for our HD viewing pleasure and fix that broken towel bar in the bathroom, we are not paying your business's $600 electric bill. Sorry, that wasn't part of the deal. I would be happy to drop it off at your new house but I don't know where you live and you won't return our calls. Oh well, go into collection, not my problem.

Your 1500 pound gun safe is also not my problem. I know you allegedly had it craned into the house while it was being built. I also know that the movers denied you because it is a huge hazard to move. I also know that, if I try really really hard, I can push the thing all the way to the stairs. From there, I am willing to put an ad on Craigslist saying "You get it up the stairs, it's yours." And yes, I realize you probably paid $1000 for it but it is in my way and I would like it gone. No, we do not want to buy it from you. We do not have anything that needs to be under digital lock and key. If I ever buy a small arsenal, I will give you a call. Possession is 9/10ths of the law buddy and right now, this lovely nuisance is in my possession.

One last thing before I let you go, please cancel your phone service so we can hook ours up. Yeah, did you forget that one too, just like you forgot to cancel Dish Network? Oh, you thought we would want Dish Network...well, that is a nice thought but we certainly would rather get the new service that comes with 4 free months then take over your bill that comes with no free months. But back to the phone. You see, we can't use but a couple specific jacks in the house until you cancel your service or we pay for someone to come out and add a third line to the house. We don't really want to do that and you don't live here anymore.

So that is all and if I find anything else, I will have Dr. HokieKev give you a call. But then again, you probably won't answer.

Thanks Again,
The People that Own Your Old House