When It Rains It Pours...

Why exactly must it be true that when it rains it pours? Figuratively speaking of course. Because when it really does rain, it doesn't always pour. Sometimes, its just a mist, or even a drizzle. Often its just a brief shower. Rarely though, does it actually pour. At least not here, not lately.

Except figuratively. When it rains in this figurative world, it most always drowns me like a sewer rat.

For example, how BGE goes up 70% the same year we have a heat wave.

Or the day you decide to actually utilize your sunroof happens to be the day you leave for vacation without your car. It's also the same day they are calling for, ironically, a thunderstorm...and you get a phone call when you're halfway to Myrtle Beach advising you that you forgot to close it.

Or, like this...

Last Tuesday (I think), I overslept. I woke up just before 8:30 (that's right, almost an hour after I usually get to work.) My alarm, which I had incorporated as background noise in my dream on this morning, had gone off promptly at 6:27 am, as it has for the past 2 years.

Once I finally got in the car, I noticed, huh, empty gas tank. Fantastic. Well, this just so happened to be the same morning that everyone else in the Owings Mills metropolitan area also needed gas AND decided to use the BP on the corner of Greenspring Valley and Reisterstown Road.

Three years later, I was able to restart my venture to work. 12 years later, after travelling approximately 10 mph down 83 south, I parked in my parking lot. This lot is one where you sometimes have to double park and leave your keys with the attendant. Today is one of those sometimes. So, like a master, I back in, lock my doors, and venture toward the attendant hut.

Then I noticed the slowly building line of people. Of course! The attendant was not there. A "will return in 5 minutes sign" was there in his place though. Fantastic. So, myself, and the two nice girls I made friends with that morning chatted as we waited 20 ridiculous minutes for his non-arrival.

We waited until an older, wiser woman parked her car, pulled back the locked door just enough to drop her keys inside, looked at us as if to say "Suckers, how long have you been waiting here!" and then headed off to her daily routine. Exchanging glances, we took turns holding back the door, dropped our keys inside, and silently prayed that the man would not only eventually return, but also find and safely store away our keys.

This, clearly, is the same day that I'm at work until after 7:00. And so obviously, upon return to the parking lot, the attendant had decided to take his next break, and coincidentally, leave a "will return in 5 minutes" sign on the locked door where my keys may or may not be hanging just 2 feet away, inside.

And then it started to rain.

Are You My Mommy?

July 30, 2007

Right on schedule, my mini-girls dinner group met up at CPK (again) this past Friday. Clearly, we are creatures of habit.

Conversations were all over the place...from houses to jobs to tales of our recent vacations. And eventually they led into a land I have not yet crossed into...marriage. As a bystander during an "in-laws" conversation, I felt the need to propose the question, "So when do you start calling your in-laws Mom & Dad?"

This is when I found out (again) that my family is abnormal. I immediately received the response "Never" in unison from both.

In my family, my grandparents are known as Mom & Dad to all daughter and son in-laws. I don't remember it ever being any differently. And then I wondered, what if my aunt had married someone who didn't feel comfortable doing that...would it be looked down upon that "Mom & Dad" were only Carole & Arnold to him?

And as if there aren't enough other things to worry about when thinking about marriage, I now have to worry about what to call the in-laws, and what my non-existent husband will call my parents? Will they even want to be called Mom & Dad? What if my Dad, after being referred to as Nas, says "Call me Dad." And what if invisible husband says, "Nah, you're not my dad."

Oh boy oh boy...I'm furthering my research into this topic...

These sites are pro first name...

weddingideas.com

http://ths.gardenweb.com/forums/load/marriage/msg0822265816809.html

The consensus here was, "I already have a Mom & Dad...and these strange people are not my parents!"

I'm happy to say that Fox News did a story on this...and I quote Daniel Altiere..."Traditionally, "Mom" and "Dad" were what you called your new parents-in-law. This was determined through solid scientific research; I asked my parents."

To my surprise, I think I'd still have to conclude (based on a panel of people questioned today) that it is more common to call the in-laws Frank and Jane (assuming these were their names) than it is to call them Mom & Dad.

There must be other families besides mine and Daniel Altiere's that go with the latter! After all, in Father of the Bride, Brian goes from calling Annie's father George, to Dad, right after the engagement, so it can't be that strange...

Livin' On the Edge

One day back at work after a week long vacation with the fam has me yearning for yet, another vacation. Frankly, my vacation itself had me needing a vacation from my vacation, but that's besides the point. With the stress of life in the real world kicking back in full swing after only a matter of minutes, I couldn't help but realize...

While at the beach, I watched as my uncle and cousins gallivanted between activity a through z in a days time. I remember being younger and feeling the need to be occupied every moment of the day during my days off of school. Isn't it funny how only a few years later, I find activities on vacation a hassle? My favorite part of the day (as shared by my mom and aunt) is waking up after 10 to a full pot of coffee and a repeat of Ellen. Sad but true, one of the days, we remained in lounge pants and t-shirts until it was time to shower and go to dinner. I think this was my favoritist day of all.

Don't get me wrong...I would have been more than happy to attend the Dixie Stampede, or Edwin McCain at House of Blues if I'd had any takers. Other than those two things, I was good. Well, those two and outlet shopping, which I did leave the place for on a few separate occasions...
Another thing I wondered...

Who had such an uninteresting, unstressful, inactive and easy life that they felt the need to create crazy dangerous "activities" like para sailing, skydiving and bungee jumping?

In case you are wondering as much as I was:

Para sailing: In the early 60's, a man by the name of Pierre Lamoigne attached a parachute to his moving car and invented para sailing. It was the 1970s when Mark McCulloh made history by using this method at sea.

Sky diving: Began with a descent from a balloon by André-Jacques Garnerin in 1797. Skydiving was used by the military since the early 1900s. It became an official "sport" in 1951, but Lew Sanborn and Jacques Istel started the first non military drop zone and training center in 1959.

Bungee Jumping: Bungee jumping as we know it today actually started on April Fools' Day 1979 when group of people from the Oxford U's Dangerous Sport Club jumped from 245-Clifton Suspension Bridge in Bristol, England. But it wasn't until 1988 when AJ Hackett, a New Zealand adventurer pioneered the sport and opened the first jump site. And, as if that wasn't scary enough for this carefree crazy, he's now planning a 4,920 foot fall from a helicopter.

Yeah, that DOES sound fun! About as fun as laying down in the center lane of I-95, just to see what happens...

As if a regular work day, or weekend full of errands and bill paying isn't enough to make your stomach churn, these guys needed more? I can't be sure, but perhaps someone should have looked into the mental wellness of said hobby inventors to find out what exactly drove them to crave potential death by parachute.

Just Call Me Mrs. Fix It

There are a ton of things in the world I haven't done. I've never jumped out of a plane, never been camping, and I've never been mountain climbing. I've never even been to Las Vegas, or even really anywhere off the East Coast.

Recently, though, my eyes were opened to some other things I've never done that are right here in my hometown. Things I might not consider doing, but with a push, and a little bit of naivety, I did it...

This weekend, I went on a mystery outing. Here are some clues...can you guess where I went?

It costs money.
It's manual labor.
It does not involve animals, water, or safety equipment.
It does involve other equipment.
It is not a sport.
There are several places located in the surrounding Baltimore area.
You do not dress nicely, and you will get dirty.
Ooh, and, here's a kicker...its a sin in some countries.

Well, I was baffled too. But early Saturday afternoon, when it was finally time to reveal the mystery, we pulled up to a little place called Crazy Ray's.

Whoever he was, Crazy Ray was one smart man. I never would have imagined that this was as popular of an activity as it was. Crazy Ray's was a crowded, full of people ready to do what I was about to do. And no...Crazy Ray's is not a strip club.

People line up at the cashier to go in ($1 a person to look) and even longer at the cashier to leave (you pick it, you pay it.) It's a mechanics dream, a giant area neatly piled with other peoples vehicular trash. Crazy Ray's is a junk yard.

So, with hands full of tools, we ventured into the sea of transportation. The cars are semi-sorted by make, but you work your way through the maze careful not to have the tow truck unload its new addition directly onto your head.

I followed quickly behind until reaching the 1995 Buick Le Sabre. Goal: driver side rear passenger small window, and passenger side rear regular window. How on earth were we going to get a window out of a door? Yeah, not sure.

Luckily (for me) the mini window had already been removed and placed carefully in the back seat, as if a gift was left there just for us. The other window, not so simple. Please allow for uneducated terms as I explain the process of removing a window from a door.

First, we (he) took off the door panel. You pull it off and reveal enough of the nuts/bolts/screw/wired area to disconnect further. Now I was having fun! I got to literally tear apart a car! And, as you may know, I have a tendency to be semi-destructive at times.

Then it was kind of trial and error. The trick was to figure out how the window connected to the door, which was tricky since there was no power to the car. Once we (he) found that, we'd be set...or so we thought. The window wouldn't go down far enough to remove by the door, and wouldn't come up far enough because of the size of the opening and the shape of the window. Ohhh noo.

Then, I actually made my first real contribution to the outing...I had an idea. What if we removed the side window to clear up extra space in the window frame? From there, we should technically be able to pull it straight out. And guess what, we were! Must be my amazing ability to calculate dimension in my head. I suppose I'm a math person after all! Too bad this didn't kick in back in Mrs. Roth's Geometry class...you know, the one I almost didn't make it out of, even with a tutor.

Forget I said that. Let's remember how I'm now a mathematical whiz. So, after the window was removed and all the tools were put away, we headed towards the hefty little line at the cashier. Two windows came to $40 dollars (ish) which, as priced by Safelite online later that day, would have come to over $1000 brand new. Talk about a deal! Bargain shopping at its best. Who knew you could bargain shop for things other than clothes and fashion jewelry!

I felt accomplished at the sight of my dirty hands and 5 year old tennis shoes that I dug out of my closet for the experience. What's next?! Bring it on! The day of handiness had only just begun! That's right people...it doesn't stop here. Later that afternoon, I assisted in the assembly of a propane gas grill. Which, by the way, worked upon completion, and so far, has not blown up.

I never would have guessed that my talents continued past makeup artistry and blogging. Now, suddenly, I'm practically a natural mechanic! They say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, so it must be in the genes...thanks Dad!

Safety First?

After sincere hesitation, I accompanied a friend to a car dealership yesterday as she attempted to buy her first car new car. If you know me, you know the car dealership is no stranger to me. Already on my 5th, I decided it was my duty to apply my haggling expertise to her purchase.

Let me preface by saying that this car purchasing virgin was completely unaware of what goes on during the process. She thought that buying a car was just like buying a radio. You pick a model, a color, find a salesperson to pull it around for you, and voila! Proud owner. And because she already knew what she wanted (without test driving may I add) she was convinced that this had to be the way it was. I tried my hardest to assure her that this was not the case.

We walked in to R&H Toyota around 5:30pm. In about 4.3 seconds, we had a salesman whose name for the life of me I can't remember right now. Except that his last name was Yingling. Kinda sounds like a beer, doesn't it?

Anyway, I had been named the vocalist for the majority of the sale. Wanting nothing to do with the sale except for receiving the keys in the end, my friend passed the torch on to me. So, I spoke the words I'd practiced (not really) in the car. "Hi, my friend wants to buy a Scion xA. Neutral color of some kind, base model, automatic transmission. She already got a price at Russell. If you can match it, she wants to buy it here, today."

Yingling took us outside and showed us her dream car. Except. Stick. When Ying asked what the problem with stick was, my friend replied with "Nothing, except I don't want to drive one where there are any other cars around." Clever. I liked it. Yingling, however, looked puzzled.

Once we explained that she meant "NO" we ended up at his desk. Because the manual was the only Scion xA on the lot, we went back to play with pricing, and decided to worry about the actual car later. This being Yingling's brilliant idea.

With Toyota's pure pricing (similar to Saturn's no haggling) the pricing seemed easy. So from here you'd think, "YES! This IS like buying a radio!." But no. At just past 6, we were no where near finished.

Producing a list of cars available was the next step. While he was doing this, I had a moment of deja vu and realized it was because I had briefly worked at R&H Toyota myself. And by briefly, I mean maybe one month, and I'm pretty sure I just stopped showing up after I tried to call out sick one day and they told me no. I decided not to mention this part to Yingling.

There were 5 cars available. 3 white, standard, no side airbags. One silver, standard, no side airbags. One black, standard, with side airbags...for for $650 more. As salesmen always do, he tried an upsell. Side airbags perhaps? Well, yes we thought. Of course. Upsell accepted!

This turned out to be a very bad idea on Mr. Yingling's part...

After literally making the sale, running the credit card for the additional amount over the check that had already been prepared (courtesy of eloans.com) he THEN decides to call the dealer that had the black car available to get the remaining details and vin # to secure the sale.

To everyone's disappointment (Jessie's, because she wanted it, me because I was ready to move on to sushi, and Yingling's because he's the money hungry salesman) the car was not actually the price he quoted. Said dealer had added quite a few aftermarket parts that they were unwilling to negotiate on and/or remove. The perfect car had vanished right before our eyes.

And, my non-picky friend was a little pickier than anticipated. Now she wanted the side airbags. And she did NOT want white. And in a 500 mile radius, the only cars with the exact options were all, surprisingly, white.

Now she had to decide...safety before color, or vice versa? Knowing that I chose a sunroof over side airbags 3 years ago (sorry back seat passengers) I told her she shouldn't buy a car that's a color she hates. She shook her head, glared at Ying, and said "But he convinced me that side airbags were a good idea, and now I want them."

Playing devil's advocate, and as a lover of white cars myself, I tried to assist Yingling in the sale of the white car. But, no luck. She doesn't want white. Sigh.

At 8:45 (that's right, more than three hours later) we left so she could sleep on it.

That said, I don't understand why buying a car ISN'T like buying a radio. Why are car salesman so shady? Every time they say they're going to talk to their sales manager, I am tempted to follow them on the smoke break I know they're taking so I can catch them in a lie. I bet I'd have some prime haggling opportunities there!

And isn't it sad that I can spend three hours with someone and not even remember their name after? Maybe it was all the Yingling...

Mr. Clean Meets Mr. Mouse

While I'm on my usual and latest kick on how its expensive to survive...have you ever noticed how pricey it is to stay clean?

On a recent shopping trip to Target, I thought I'd stock up on some necessary household items. I was feeling a little crazy because a friend made me believe I had a mouse living under my refrigerator. Immediately turning into my mother, I decided a spring cleaning session was in order, thus my voyage to obtain some Mr. Clean.

I darted to the back of the store. Among aisles and aisles of disinfecting products, I felt like a maid in heaven. Who knew there were 4 different scents of the bald man's product? He also makes a mop, a sponge, and a wonderful little invention called the Magic Eraser. Feeling no need for this though, I picked up the original blue stuff you pour into the bucket, a spongy mop like situation, and carried on to my next venture.

In aisle two, I grabbed some colorful drop ins to make my toilet water pretty, refills for my disposable toilet scrubber, and a new dustpan. I know! How fun does this all sound?!

Then, while grabbing some last minute paper towels, an air freshener, and Electrasol dish washing fluid, I came across them...the mouse traps. The thought of a mouse had overtaken my brain and forced me to buy poison, glue traps, and a fancy little box cage contraption. Suddenly, I was no longer catching just a mouse...no...I was out to catch the entire mouse population, and the dirty rat grandparents too.

So far though, I have no mouse. Oh, and no rats either. I just know they heard me coming with my battle equipment and so they scurried for the less prepared.

I think I'll call it the unavoidable cost of cleanliness...

Trip to Target...$100.13
Pest free environment with blue toilet bowl water...Priceless.

It's a Good Thing I Like Ramen...

I did it. I've figured out the reason that so many people are unhealthy in the United States. Why Shauna, you ask? It's too freaking expensive. Fit isn't free. Have a looksie...

Other than the occasional deals by using my Giant Bonus Card, it's practically impossible to shop on a budget. And by practically impossible, I mean not a chance in hell. But, every time I complain about being low on the dough, I get the typical response of "Why don't you stop eating out?" And I say...

A. I don't eat out much.

B. It is far from cheaper to grocery shop..

and 3. I do not know how, nor can I afford the utilities needed, to roll a proper sushi roll.

Now, to clarify "B" just a bit...If it costs me $5 for a 6 inch sub at subway, 5 days a week, that's $25. But to buy a weeks worth of bread ($4...because I cannot just buy what's on sale, I have to take into consideration the calories, fat, protein, and fiber of each bread, and let me tell you, the right ones don't get discounted EVER), 2 packages of Healthy Choice Oven Roasted Turkey, $7. Add in cucumber, lettuce, tomato, and all the other fancy fixin's I might want to make my sandwich taste better than wheat fiber and dry turkey, then there you have it. Add in breakfast and dinner, fruits, etc, for the rest of the week, and its merely a dream to walk into the grocery store without spending less than $100 a week. And I am only one person.

My mother would insert this here: "You should buy your fruits and vegetables at the fruit market Shauna. It's cheaper. And you should shop where the sales are. Did I mention that toilet paper is on sale at Food Lion in Reisterstown this week...you should go there!"

Well, other than the fact that Food Lion is practically in Pennsylvania, if I drive to market A for fruit, market B for perishables, and market C for toiletries, I have now just wasted an entire tank of gas, nearly $50, that I guarantee you I did not save on the double roll special on toilet paper at the far from local Food Lion.

Now let's consider the above when trying to follow a slightly stricter diet. Let's say, as I mentioned with the bread, that you are focused on certain daily intakes. And let's also say, just for fun, that said diet insists on 5 meals a day. Well, add this to your bills.

$54...2 cases of high protein bars
$108...3 cases of nutritional supplement beverages
$1.29...the additional cost to your $10 omelet for egg beaters or whites.

Throw in a $40 monthly gym membership fee while we're at it and I think I just may have proven my very insightful, if I do say so myself, point.

Now this may come as a surprise, but I have been wrong on occasion...so I challenge you. If anyone has figured out a way to live on a less than superfluous salary, while maintaining a healthy balanced diet combined with routine exercise and a full tank of gas, please advise. Otherwise, I may have to forfeit the healthy lifestyle I am trying to adopt in exchange for $1 packages of Ramen Noodles, that last week, I would have gotten a two-for with my fancy bonus card keychain at my actually local grocery store...