Quick amusing (well, not to him at the moment) story...
I ran out of the house quickly to drop off the trash before my father arrived. Well, Mr. Wiggles who detests whenever I leave the house without him, threw one of his infamous temper tantrums in the span of 3 min. This time, it wasn't dumping the trash, knocking over Shaddy's litter, overturning the laundry and making a bed or going through the trash in my bathroom. The target of his anger - my purse which he dumped the contents of which all over the entryway.
Currently, he's in a timeout but damn, doesn't take him long to show he's annoyed.
Does anyone want a pug with an attitude problem?
Philly is quite *ahem* interesting when it comes to vehicles and drivers' licenses. Last week, I finally headed to the DMV in neighboring Montgomery County to get a Pennsylvania License and a Pennsylvania Car Registration... The one day I was planning on going, well, it was a madhouse because Jon sans Kate was to appear in court and Norristown was crawling with those lovely vermin known as paparazzi... So I decided to table it until the end of the week and went to face the music.
First of all, the DMV requires your Social Security card, birth certificate, two bills to show that you do, indeed, live there and your first born. Well, I'm kidding about the first born but it felt like that - I was about to hand over Wiggy if they asked for anything else. I went through the hoops, brought the requisite paperwork and $28 dollars and one bad photo and I was holding a temporary license with the official one headed my way in 10 days.
Then, off to a "Tag Agency" to get the plates - oy vey. While they tell you to register your car within 20 days of moving to the city, they tell you that you have to get a Pennsylvania license within 60 days after establishing residency. HOWEVER, you can't get Pennsylvania plates WITHOUT having a Pennsylvania license or ID. So, which came first the chicken or the egg?
Well, I had a duplicate title, I was told by the Tag Agent that perhaps I'd have to pay sales tax because the title wasn't 6 mo. or older. HELLO - Florida TAKES the title and I lost it. I understand that but hot damn - it's not rocket science. I finally said "Fine, I'll pay the tax if I have to but seriously, how stupid are the state workers". Then I remembered having to deal with some state workers and it all made sense. Apparently it's the same in all states - laziness abounds when you work for the government. Thankfully, the agent saw my reasoning and highlighted it for the idiot in Harrisburg that would have to process the paperwork so there was no confusion - I bought the car in 2001, move to Florida in 2002 and I was NOT paying sales tax. Period...
Finally, now the piece de resistance - the car inspection. Thankfully, before I moved down here, David Maus Toyota went through the car top to bottom and did a HELL OF A JOB getting it "inspection readY". That will take a whole 'nother post because of the lovely bug issue. Anywho - Rifleman told me to go visit one of his buddies to get the car inspected but I couldn't remember the name for the life of me. Instead, I went to this place down the street and, after 45 minutes of Nick's Auto Body inspecting EVERYTHING, I have new shiny stickers on my car saying I have the right to drive in Pennsylvania for the next year. They even told me that the car was in excellent shape thanks to David Maus Toyota and crew!!!
So, it's official - I'm a Pennsylvania gal and so is the Cougar. However, never again will I move across state lines - too many hoops. And, yes, I've got the car title and the social security card in a safe place.
First of all, can I tell you how red in the face I am - seriously I'm livid. It's my birthday for cryin' out loud and I shouldn't have to wage war AGAIN with Barnes & Noble's inept customer service center for their idiocy.
Some background. I've been a loyal B&N customer for YEARS. I've held the membership faithfully. I buy a TON of books, DVDs, etc. I often enjoy the website's interviews, etc. and make a point to buy all my magazines there. Needless to say they make a good sum of funds off me. I've noticed that recently my orders have been *ahem* shall we say slow. Now one of the perks of buying a certain amount online is "Free Super Saver Shipping" which you could set your clock by - 3 business days or so and *boom* it's in my hands. Which is great like when I want to review Jaden's fabu new cookbook "Steamy Kitchen" and I am looking forward to the UPS guy knocking on the door with that gorgeously shot book (yes I leafed through a copy in the store - I couldn't wait). I also ordered the Foodie Handbook by the one and only Pim. Can we say I'm crazy stoked about both of these books - both of which I put back in anticipation of the order coming to my mailbox.
Well - it's two weeks later and, guess what - not one but TWO orders are "lost in the mail". That's my original order AND the order that they issued as a replacement for the first one that is "M.I.A" from a distribution center in NEW JERSEY - the next flippin' state over.
When I called with concern at the end of the week last week to find out what the heck is going on because well, you just can't get tracking from their inept distributor ARGIX DIRECT, they informed me that there were a few complaints and that the replacement would ship out via UPS to me from now on as I'm a member who has been with them for years. The B&N operator was very understanding and also told me that she was having problems personally with this dumb as rocks (my description - NOT hers) ARGIX DIRECT. She assured me it would ship out post haste and I again waited patiently for the little present to come to the door. Now, mind you my Sephora order came and that I ordered SUNDAY NIGHT via UPS. The UPS here in Philly rocks! Love them (which, if you know me is quite the event because UPS in Orlando and New Hampshire seriously sucked!)
Well, I get an email from B&N which tells me that it reshipped my replacement order and *wait for it* it went via ARGIX DIRECT via US MAIL. AGAIN - from New Jersey - next state over. Shipped out and *boom* guess what - it's lost in the mail again and we can't find ANY tracking info for it because B&N and/or ARGIX dropped the flippin' ball. What happened to "Ms. Lys - we're going to ship it to you ASAP through UPS so you won't have this problem again"
Needless to say, I lost my patience today when I had to talk to this gal "Cecile" or whatever who not only told me my address was wrong (newsflash - I changed it immediately when I moved and it's on all my receipts so check your flippin' screen dummy because the gal prior to you knew the right address) and then told me "ohhh - it's got to be lost". When I told her I just renewed my membership and I wanted it canceled and refunded - no go. She begrudgingly refunded my order cost for both books and I told her that we're having a hell of a breakup. This is no Ross/Rachael Friends Breakup - this is the real deal as in don't call me, don't email me, lose my damn number we are O.V.E.R. Seriously - OVER. Which is sad and hurts me deeply because I really did love going to B&N and browsing the aisles. Now, it's all Borders & Borders.com which is 20 min. out of the way for me but to prove my point, I'll do it.
So Barnes & Noble - I don't believe a word of what you say anymore. Clearly, while I know you are "cutting costs" by using this supposedly cheaper ARGIX DIRECT service, you just lost a very loyal (and profitable) customer. I've put up with your lack of changing magazines, lack of stock in the Plymouth Meeting Store, etc. because to me B&N has been a part of my shopping loyalty since I was in college. I just can't sit by and say "Oh it's okay" because really it's not. What you are doing to customers is disappointing. So, here's where I tell you publicly (and my readers) - do NOT buy the membership - it's not worth it. And, that's money I will never see again but I'm sure you will need that $25 because you will lose more customers than me by year's end if you keep this inept shipping distributor. Clearly, ARGIX has proved itself to be useless in my eyes not once but TWICE. Go figure.
So excuse me while I head over to BORDERS to go buy the Foodie Handbook and Steamy Kitchen at FULL PRICE because, you know what, Borders has NEVER did me wrong like you have Barnes & Noble. And I'm sure they will welcome my business (and wallet) with open arms.
Labels: Cooking in Stilettos, Guilty of Idiocy, Shopping, Wha Da Hell
Living in Philly has taught me the importance of Sunday being a day of rest - specifically for all things Eagles, Phillies and Flyers. The complex is abuzz with activity with football jerseys, high fives and screams of "C'mon - let's GO!" and that's just from the gals trying to get their men out to the sports bar to see the game. One of the unspoken fashion mantras of this town is gals do wear sports jerseys/tshirts and they do come in pink.
I head out to walk the dog and my neighbors are often out at the same time I am - the commercial breaks. When people are screamin' - good or bad, you know it's game related. And if you are in a restaurant or club or even walkin' down the street in the Italian Market when there is a game on, there are TVs everywhere - and people drop what they are doing to find out the score and to talk about how good (or bad) the players are doing. Don't even get me started on the FaceBook crap talkin' that goes on with my Philly/NY/Boston pals.
Yes, the trials of livin' in a sports town. Now if only I could understand football...
Labels: Moving In Stilettos, Philly
This bad blogger that I know *ahem* has decided to sign up for NahBlahBlah with not only this blog but also Cooking in Stilettos...
I guess perhaps I could use some of the writing practice, huh?
So, tomorrow - be prepared for a doozy of a post recounting my trials and tribulations getting reacquainted with a city that I adore as I finally start to settle in...
For now, I'm off to nurse a headache from my Phillies giving it up to the Yanks AGAIN!
One of the joys of moving was the purging I did at the Altamonte apartment. However, part of the purge was the p.o.s. bookshelves that housed my books for years. I figured I'd start fresh here in Philly - plus the bugs love that daggone particle board. That way I wouldn't have any stragglers (more on that later)...
TarJay was having a huge sale and part of the sale were 3 shelf bookshelfs for $16.00 - perfect - I could use that for my cookbooks. Today, after having quite the convo with someone who seemed to think that I was just your typical blonde, I decided to assemble the bookshelf and work out that brainpower (seriously - you want me to take a PAYCUT AND pay city/state tax - I. Don't. Think. So).
I'm convinced that forget waterboarding - these "easy to assemble furniture pieces" are disguised as Chinese torture assembly devices. Put Part A in Part B - use dowels in Part E to attach to Part C - Twist your arm while trying to fit in Part H Blah Blah Blah.
Needless to say I have a third of a daggone shelf built, one screw that was protruding that I had to pull out and no way to attach the side panel to make the shelf complete. P.O.S. I tell you.
I'll be working on this for a bit longer but trust me, I'll be cursing like a sailor during the entire assembly process while Wiggy "supervises" from his perch on the couch.
So NOT how I imagined a Friday...
One of my issues in trying to become a legal responsible resident of Pennsylvania includes getting a proper drivers' license. Granted my Florida one doesn't expire until 2010, however per Commonwealth rules, you must have a new license within 60 days of establishing residency. Easy Peasy - right? WRONG! The Commonwealth of Pennsylvania doesn't make it so simple as turning in your new license and showing your lease/bill/etc. to show you live here - they also demand your Social Security Card be shown. Ummmm... however, much like the title to my car, the SS Card is MISSING! I'm sure I'll find it when I've gotten my replacement but I haven't seen it in years since I moved to Orlando. *sigh*
The only way to get the replacement card is to make a visit to my local SSA Office closest to my address. The one that the SSA sent me to was in the heart of Germantown. For those of you that aren't familiar with the Philly landscape, Germantown is not a favorable area - my gal Suz is a police officer in that district and the stories she tells me "Oh we had a stabbing/There was a shooting/Oh I have to testify at a murder trial" blah blah blah. You get the picture. Suz is in court almost every day and at night she's patrolling the streets of Germantown. Needless to say, when I was looking for an apartment, Suz was the one to yay or nay a place.
So, my dad joked that I should go earlier in the morning because "the riff raff are still sleeping". Sure - not a problem. I figured it would be simple and that would be it. 4 hours later, my viewpoint on society has changed. I'm now convinced that I need to channel my inner Suze Orman and save for my retirement because I am convinced there will be NOTHING for me when I retire. The conversations I heard were such perfect blog fodder that I figured you might enjoy/shake your head or start praying for society as a whole...
I'm convinced that a day at the SSA is like a prison lunchroom with people trading tips on how to best the system. Now, before we get "political", let me just say that I have friends who have been on the system and have used it to help when they were in a tough spot and now they are on their own. That's not the point of this post. I fully support the system for those that need it.
However, I was privy to a conversation to two women who were quite loud and that I have never been so thankful to hear my number called so I could leave them without telling both of them to "grow the eff up". One of the woman, a badly bottled blonde, couldn't have been more than 26. She would only work 15 hours a week so she couldn't lose her SSA benefits. According to her, she's bi-polar and couldn't work more than 15 hours because of that. To make it even more "head shake worthy", she wouldn't accept responsibility for losing her prior job because she was caught SMOKING CRACK when she should have been teaching. She was a headstart teacher in Northeast Philly. Ummmmm.. The other woman is "diabetic" and she couldn't work because she had diabetes therefore she needed a SSA check while her boyfriend who wasn't her husband had a good paying job. Are you effin' kiddin' me? Seriously. There was a woman to the right of me who decided she would just change her baby's diaper in full view of everyone where the baby let out a howl and a half because, well it was COLD. There were people who go there daily and it was like a lunchroom catch up with everyone. There were retired veterans who actually NEEDED benefits that people wouldn't move to let them sit. The sense of entitlement that was around the room just pissed me the hell off. And when my number was called out of order to get my replacement card, I heard people chattering behind me going "That ain't fair. They should call my number." I almost turned around to tell her "Bitch PLEASE - I'm here for a replacement card - NOT TO MILK THE SYSTEM like your funky azz". And the people that work there - there was one woman who needed to be "retrained" as she copped major attitude with everyone, kept taking breaks and I'm convinced she was on the internet or something as she would wait before taking another person - no initiative. There were 4 windows and only two open. Boy was I thankful that after the 3.5 hour that they opened up a third window.
I do believe that there are people who are disabled and need SSA benefits. However, I don't feel that bipolar, depression and diabetes counts as reasons to not work. If you take your meds, there is hope, right? I can say that never again will I ever go to the SSA Germantown office and, quite frankly, I'm now convinced that society has "issues."
Labels: Moving In Stilettos, Philly, Random Mess, Wha Da Hell
One of the stories from the move was a sad one - and one that left me shocked and still, to this day, very annoyed.
My pug, Mr. Wiggles is a character - of that there is no doubt. He does tend to be very hyper and "wiggly" when he sees people initially but that's just how he is.
When I left for Philly, I asked for sedatives for both him and Shadow as it would be a long drive and I wanted them to be calm. Shadow had been sedated for her flight to Florida so I didn't think much of it.
The day of the move, we waited until about half an hour before we left to give the pets their meds. Shadow was prescribed a 1/4 of a 10 mg. tablet of Acepromazine. Wiggy was prescribed a full 25 mg. tablet of Acepromazine. Shadow took her tablet with little incident. However, Wiggy spit his out twice. Finally, with the bribe of cheese, he took it and my dad took him for his last walk. I was told it would take 30 minutes for it to take effect. Well, within minutes, Wiggy promptly convulsed, lost control of bodily function and basically collapsed and couldn't walk.
WHAT THE @*#@*@*@?!?! I called the Altamonte Animal Hospital only be told I could "drop him off". Listen here dummy - I'm leaving to MOVE TO PHILADELPHIA TODAY and you want me to DROP HIM OFF?!?!? ARE YOU NUCKIN' FUTZ?!?!?! Not to mention, after this incident I didn't trust them with a pen, let alone my dog. She told me that it was my option to leave with him sick but I really should just "drop him off." I about lost my mind.
As I sat with Wiggy, I started googling results of Acepromazine with pugs. He kept lookin' at me with the saddest eyes and would try to walk but couldn't move his back legs. Thankfully, he threw up the pill and still would go in and out of sleep.
I texted Rifleman asking him for a vet suggestion in Philly. If they told me to bring him back to the Altamonte vet, I would - but I was far from pleased. He came back immediately with the spot he takes his dog to - Wissahickon Animal Hospital which is right near the new apartment.
Thankfully, Jen from the Wissahickon Animal Hospital talked me off of a ledge, got me calm and told me that he should be fine, especially if he threw up the pill. That was the first step. Secondly, she said that apparently he had a reaction to it but interestingly enough, the vet prescribed him 25 mg. for a 20 lb. dog. That was enough to sedate a 100 lb. dog. Some vets prescribe 1 mg. per pound but considering that they did one quarter of a 10 mg. tablet for my 12 lb. cat, shouldn't they have done the same for my DOG? Jen made an appointment for me to bring in Wiggy after the move and told me it was safe to leave in an hour or so just to keep an eye on him and call if there were any problems. During my phone convo, Wiggy woke up and haltingly started walking over to my dad for comfort. That was the best sign ever!
I tossed their pills in the bag, vowing to never use them again. During the drive, Wiggy had a couple seizures but would quickly snap out of it. Can I tell you the immense amount of guilt I had for even sedating the little guy in the first place???
While I was driving through Georgia, my cell phone rang and on the other line was the Altamonte Animal Clinic's office manager wanting to talk about the incident. I didn't hold my tongue at all - they overdosed my DOG! We went back and forth a bit but she told me that the Vet was at liberty to prescribe a 25 mg. dose for Wiggy since it was his prerogative and Wiggy was so hyper. While I understand that, I felt I should have been consulted first as I would have to drive with him and he had never been sedated with that before. As his parent/owner, in the end, I didn't see how they could prescribe only a quarter of a 10mg. tablet for my 12 lb. cat yet a FULL 25 mg. tablet for my 20 lb. pug. Plus - while they only see the hyper "initial" side of him, they don't see the quasi-calm guy I live with when the excitement of seeing people is over.
It is what is is and thankfully Wiggy was okay during his checkup with Dr. Jacobs at the Wissahickon Animal Hospital and absolutely adores everyone there. HOWEVER, after this drama with Altamonte Animal Clinic and Dr. Hart, I could never recommend Altamonte Animal Hospital again. This one lapse of judgement on their part could have taken him away permanently. And being told to "Drop him off" like he was a rejected piece of luggage, that was just poor taste on their part.
Labels: Guilty of Idiocy, Moving In Stilettos, Mr. Wiggles
Found a few pics from the move that about summed up the chaos...
Shadow "guarding" her territory of boxes...
Momz - where's mah stuff?
The Overpacked Uhaul...
Wiggy and Shaddy "chill out" in the car for a second before we leave Savannah...
Momz - Movin' is Hard Work!
The big "Face Off" at the new apartment...
Inspectin' the truck's progress...
And, of course, he'll take a nap whenever he has the opportunity...
Shadow after a "dose" of catnip...
Our new home... Those stairs give a hell of a workout...
And this pic says it all Just give him a beer and he'd be a happy pug...
Seriously, outside of the chaos of boxes, I have so much to do and I'm at a standstill to do two important things until I unpack EVERYTHING just to find A) My Car Title and B) My Social Security Card. See, I never keep my title in my car and I never keep my SS Card in my wallet - and now I'm regretting both [responsible] decisions.
I can't get my new plates or my license without either item. So, back to unpacking I go. Seriously - will it ever effin' end. Let's hope it's where I think it is - in one of my many "Important papers" expandable files that I start each year and hang on to "just in case". And, those files are in one of the many (remaining) boxes that are in my den just waiting for me to unpack. If I can't find either, I'll be going insane getting duplicates of each. Oy Vey - someone pass the Morgan.
*sigh*
Picture this - we've been driving since 10 a.m. the day prior; it's 6 a.m. on Saturday and I finally arrive at the new abode. Come into the house, the dog promptly christens the new hallway, I lose my mind for a second, then it's off to crash for a few hours.
Once I woke up, it was time to unload the UHaul from hell. However, one [un]pleasant surprise when I awoke - it was CHILLY! And by chilly I mean just straight up cold. Wiggy, we're not in Florida anymore. So, this gal remembers that her new landlord turned on the AC to get the apartment ready. I decide that the only smart thing to do is turn on the heat and warm up the place.
Well, a couple hours into the heat working, I smelled the faint whiff of something burning. I didn't think much of it until it came along again, off and on as I would go in and out of the house, reminding me of the smell of smores on a campfire. I thought, perhaps, it was just the heating system getting some use after being dormant for a while. Maybe it was a crisp new filter in the vent getting broken in. Or, as my over active imagination was racing with the idea that perhaps the wiring was sparking and me, by turning on the heat in the new apartment, I could have started a fire in the vents and now the apartment would burn down.
The toasty marshmallow smell was quite strong in my bedroom by the vent which was next to the window. I finally panicked and called my new landlord K. and told him my fears. Turns out they were leaving early and maintenance had already left for the day. However, K. paged the maintenance supervisor and then the game of phone tag began. See, I have a plethora of radio towers outside my apartment and I wasn't hearing ONE phone call and things were just driving me nuts. The smell kept getting stronger and now my mind went into overdrive. Finally, upon connecting with John from Maintenance, we discussed the situation as I started to wander the apartment to see where the smell was originating from. I had already turned the heat off prior so now the fact that the smell was VERY strong, the panic was starting to surface. The smell was strong in my bedroom and as I went to the back porch to discuss it quietly with John, I noticed the smell was very strong out on the back porch - where there was no vents. Confused, I looked around and then I spotted it - my neighbors in the building next door were using a charcoal grill with some foil packages on it - most likely containing something with marshmallows.
I laughed and told John that the case was solved. You can imagine my shock when he said "Oh - neighbor XYZ. They aren't supposed to have that type of grill - we'll send out a letter on Monday".
Yeah, that's how this gal started off her new life in her new apartment inadvertently ratting out her new neighbor (who has since moved out due to other issues).
I just will never look at smores the same way again...
Labels: Apt, Moving In Stilettos, Philly, Random Mess
Can I say this was the move from hell? Seriously - Move. From. Hell. Y'all know I had that last final work project which continued on and on and on, burning me out to the point of no return. I was exhausted only to have to pack up 7 years of my life in Florida into a 17' UHaul. Thank god for my family and friends who saved my butt and pitched in with helping me pack up the apartment. Looking back, perhaps we should have gotten the 24' however somehow we got everything SQUEEZED into the truck & the Cougar and drove up the east coast to my lovely new neighborhood of Manayunk in my favorite city of Philadelphia.
I know, I've been a horrid blogger as I'm still drained - however, I do have some funny moving stories which I'll try to rehash as I get my feet wet getting back into the blogging world.
To paint a pic of the chaos I'm facing - my kitchen is only 1/2 done. I JUST found my coffee maker and I've been here a week. My clothes are still in boxes - I think I've unpacked 7 boxes of my 13 closet boxes. Go figure. My first meal I could cook here on my schmancy new gas stove - yeah, it was a batch of rice and hamburger for the dog & cat who are having their own issues "adjusting" to the water up here. Quite mortifying to meet my new landlord face to face when I'm looking like a hot mess and my dog has quite the need for a little Pepto. (yeah, I know - TMI!) But I'm relaxed more than I've been in a long time and quite calm in my city. I haven't had the chance to slap Ant or Rifleman upside their heads yet but give me time.
So bear with me and I promise to tell y'all the story of the Toasty Marshmallow on Moving Day and the Vet who Overdosed my Dog... both of which were ummm.. not fun. Thankfully the dog is fine and no marshmallows were harmed. The Vet, however, the jury is still out on that one.
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah - I know I should be packing like a fiend but the day to day has gotten in the way. Working crazy mad hours had me about passin' out yesterday. I just had no idea I was so exhausted. The best thing Friday was seeing Wiggs & Shadow and Wiggy's reaction to me picking him up. It was like he was doubtful that I'd pick him up. Being without those two was a hard adjustment for me when I was traveling. I've gotten use to the furbrats and their snoring.
So Tuesday (or Wednesday) is the last day at the 9to9. I'm sad to be leaving some fabulous people behind but excited to see what is on the horizon. The moving truck is here on Sunday and I should be Philly bound Monday if all goes well.
Ahhh - another milestone - those slimy rat bastid palmetto bugs in the car have been vanquished (or the lone survivor is hiding in fear). I found them in the trunk and just ditched EVERYTHING I could, including some press kits from back in the day. Oh my lord, I was so upset with myself - and even more upset when the slew of them attacked me like "Bitch, how dare you upset our home". Mind you they crawled up through the Fred Flinstone Stiletto hole and just populated in the trunk. I was terrified of going in there but once I started cleaning it out, it was like a madwoman took over and I just pushed on. I know that sometimes I put off the hard stuff and I need to stop doing that and just face it head on.
Thursday, the car goes into the shop for a tune-up, oil change and H.'s uncle is going to make sure it gets detailed. I'm sure I'll get a lecture but I owned up to the drama and I Found out that palmetto car attacks are quite common around here.
Now, I have 30 boxes that I have to get packed before tomorrow afternoon so if you don't mind, Let's just hope Wiggs doesn't try to "mark" the boxes.
