The Day I Almost Died (or, How my elderly neighbor saved my life)

We have to start this story back in very early spring. I hate long, drawn out stories as much as you do, Blogfans, but it needs to start at the beginning.

In one of the last storms of winter, the mesh covering for one of the vents on our soffit fell down, leaving a gaping hole in the underside of my overhang. It was one of those bastard places to get to, where you really have nowhere to put the ladder, so you have to lay on your belly at the edge of the roof and pray to god that you don't tumble off.

Needless to say, we let it go for a while. While we were away for a long weekend, a family of starlings moved into the hole, and started dragging grass and twigs and stuff up there to nest. Upon our return we saw that there was not just a nest up there, but there were also broken egg shells on the ground under the hole. The starlings had started a family.

The Hubbin' was insistent that the birds needed to be evicted ASAP. "But there are babies in there!" I protested. "Just wait until the babies fly away, and then we can scoot the nest out and seal it up."

I want you to go back and read that sentence again, Blogfans. I stuck up for those birds. I am the only reason they are alive right now. Me.

Against The Hubbin's better judgment, he listened to me, and the birds stayed. The weather grew warmer, and the baby birds grew louder. Starting around 4:45am, they start peeping for food. And they do so every 40 minutes or so until the sun sets. It grew so loud that it would wake my five year old up from a sound sleep. She would bang on her window and yell "Moooom!! The birds are too noisy again!"

The Hubbin' again offered to dispose of the nest, but not wanting the babies to be abandoned, I firmly declined.

And that's how life went for a while.

Until today.

I pulled in the driveway, a car loaded with groceries, and two grouchy children. I got the kids out of the car, and then grabbed as many groceries bags as I could carry. We started to walk across the lawn to the front door. A few steps in, a bird landed in front of us.

"Look! A bird!" Sissy squealed. "Peep peep!" the bird replied to her. We looked at the bird for a few seconds. The bird look at us, with it's sweet little bird face. We Oooh'd and Ahh'd, and then stepped around the bird onto the sidewalk.

This is where it went downhill.

The bird flew in front of us and landed on the sidewalk. It flapped its wings and screeched at us. "Get out of here! Shoo!" I said to the bird, showing it I wasn't afraid.

Lucas, still thinking this whole situation was fun, laughed and said "Awwww, cuuuuuute!!! Bird!" The bird responded by hopping forward and pecking Lucas' bare toes several times in rapid succession.

I dropped my grocery bags and picked up my screaming baby, who was tucking himself into turtle pose. I told Sissy to follow me, and we hurried towards the door. But the bird was quick! And clever! He flew past us, landing on our porch, squawking his obscenities at us. I rattled my keys at him. I yelled. I hopped up and down, but the bird wouldn't budge. Finally, I kicked at it, and my flip flop flew off of my foot and scared the bird. "Quick!" I said, unlocking the door, and putting Lucas down inside.

Unfortunately, Sissy, spooked by the whole ordeal had run back towards the car. I stood on my porch, my groceries spilled on the sidewalk, and my daughter crying by the car. I took a step forward, and that sneaky little ninja bird popped up from the step and started pecking at my bare foot. But this time I was prepared. Broom in hand, I bravely started poking towards the bird. The broom didn't have quite the effect I had hoped for. Actually, I think the bird laughed at the broom.

So I hauled back and batted the bird with the broom. It flew far. "Run, Sissy!" I yelled. My girl tore across the lawn and into the house. "That bird was fresh!" she said, peering at me through the screen. I nodded and made my way down the steps to recover my groceries from the walkway.

Just as I happened upon my kaiser rolls, the bird made a kamikaze swoop at me, squawking with a vengeance. I screamed and covered my head, afraid the bird would somehow get stuck in my hair*. The bird landed on the ground, standing firm between me and my groceries.

Alright, Saki, I thought to myself. You're like a billion times bigger than that bird. Get your shit, and go in the house.

The bird must be a legilimens because he knew my plan inside and out, and responded with a resounding bird cry of "Oh heeeeeell naw." The bird went in for the kill, pecking, swooping, bucking and lunging. I screamed, and feebly batted my hands about, all while doing an elaborate dance to save my naked toes.

Through squinted eyes I saw my neighbor, a kind and soft spoken retiree, sauntering across the road, a bag in his hand. He marched up to the bird, and in one fell swoop captured it in a bag.

"Go ahead and get your groceries, Dear. I'll take care of him." he said, offering a kind smile.

"Thank you!" I called to him, as he walked slowly back to his side of the road.

Like a boss.

*Because you know I have luxurious golden curls.

'Tis the season for shopping

Oh Black Friday, how I love your bargains.

We are a family living on a single income. The Hubbin' earns a comfortable living doing his Nerdlyness, but money is never something in abundance in our household. Which is why we make the choice to be those people the day after Thanksgiving.

This year I elected the Hubbin' to take round one, which was standing in line at the place which instills fear in the hearts of parents everywhere: Toys-R-Us. The store opened at 10pm on Thanksgiving Day, which is a cruelty in and of itself. He donned several layers and headed out the door around 9:30, a belly full of turkey and stuffing accompanying him. His list included the coveted zhu zhu pets, a fancy Nancy doll, a tricycle, and a host of other items. He patiently waited almost three hours to enter the store, where he bravely fought off other toy crazed parents jockeying for the same things. He arrived home a little after 2am, arms filled with wondrous toys.

Two hours later my alarm beeped impatiently, signaling my turn to bundle and schlep to the store to continue the gift buying madness. I opened the front door and looked out into the inky darkness, my breath blowing out crystally clouds. Somewhere, something in my body decided "Oh hell no."

I tiptoed in socked feet into my bedroom and pulled out my laptop. With several clicks of my mouse, I loaded my virtual cart with all the goodies on my list. After punching in my billing information (and scoring 15% off and free shipping), I checked out.

I slipped back into bed a moment later, my Black Friday bounty on order. The more I think about it, the more concrete I am in the notion that this is totally the way to go from now on.

An exit to eternal summer slacking

Hello, blogfans, have I got a summer project for you! Flip flops are my favorite shoe, hands down. They're so versatile - the perfect footwear, really. Going to the beach? Wear flip flops. Going shopping? Wear flip flops. Getting married? Wear flip flops with sparkles on them.

We're big fans of Old Navy flip flops here, you can't beat the price, and it's awesome to stock up at the $1 flip flop sale. But they can get a little boring, so the lovely Lauren found a way to jazz them up, thanks to the ingenuity over at the flip flop project.

Grab your crafting supplies, blogfans, we're making flip flops!

Step One: Buy a pair of cheap foam flip flops with plastic straps.

Step Two: Gather your supplies. Aside from the flip flops, you will need fabric cut into strips that are roughly 6" long by 1" wide, embroidery floss, sewing needles, a sewing machine, and some decorative touches, such as fake daisies.

Step Three: Take one of the fabric strips and wrap it around the part that goes in between your toes. You don't want to make it too thick, so don't wrap too many times.

Step Four: Using your embroidery floss, stitch the fabric closed down the center.

Step Five: Sew all of your fabric strips together lengthwise. If you don't want patchwork flip flops, you can use one larger piece of fabric, but I highly recommend patchwork.

Step Six: Wrap your fabric around the strap and sew at the side. You'll want to make the stitches in a place that won't rub against your foot. Experience tells us that it can be a bit abrasive. Repeat on the other straps.

Step Seven: Make sure to make a giant mess while doing this.

Step Eight: Admire your work...

Step Nine: ...from all angles.

Step Ten: Snip two fake flowers from a silk bouquet.

Step Eleven: Glue your flowers over where all your fabric comes together. I suppose you could sew them on, but I happen to be a hot glue aficionado.

Step Twelve: Admire your work from all angles.

Step Thirteen: Kick back, relax, and enjoy your new flip flops

Thank you, Comcast

Ha, bet you never thought you'd hear me say nice things about Comcast sans sarcasm!

After a long phone chat with comcast, the Hubbin' has my internets up and running again. I won't pretend to know how he solved the problem...something about IP, wireless N &G, LMNOP, yaddayadda blardy...but all I know is that I have internets again (horray!) and my dropping of the MacBook had nothing to do with any of my problems (double horray!)

I = Officially off the hook.

Fark.

I have this really awful habit of dropping my laptop.

I don't mean "drop" as in 'Oops, it slid off my lap and onto the couch.'

I mean "drop" as in "Oops I knocked it off of that 5' tall armoir." or "Oh no, there it goes down the steps."

Luckily for me, my husband had the forsight to buy AppleCare with my laptop, and they don't seem to care thar every few months I show up with a cracked case. They just take it and give me a new one the next day. All in all. it's a pretty sweet deal.

Yesterday, though, after falling off my bed for the 1,345,801 time since I've had it, the internets stop working (*gasp* Not the internets! Anything but that!) So, I didn't get in my daily BloMo post, which was probably just as well, since I had nothing to talk about anyway. So now I owe you two days of double posts. Try to contain your enthusiasm. No, really, Blogfans, you're causing a scene.

Not to cut this short, but I'm using the Hubbin's fancypants Macbook Pro, and he gets nervous when I'm using it. I can't imagine why.

Until tomorrow. . .

We don't need no education

I know it's not on my Honey-Do list, but it's my blog, and I'm going to write about what I want to write about, dammit.

I was reading CNN this evening and stumbled across this article.

Los Angeles, California (CNN) -- Angry students staged a sit-in Thursday in an attempt to block university officials from leaving the UCLA campus after the California Board of Regents voted to raise undergraduate tuition 32 percent over the next two years.

Oh. My. God. A 32% increase! That is ludicrous. No wonder they were protesting.

The cost of higher education in this country is absolutely astounding. The average tuition for a private four year college in the US in 2009 is over $26,000. This is not including books, fees, room or board. This is solely the class tuition. The average room and board will run you around $8500, give or take. Just to live on campus, and attend class full time, you're looking at almost $35,000 per year to receive a bachelors degree. (Then I suppose you'll need books. And frivolous things like clothing and shampoo.) If you attend for four years, this makes the total cost almost $140,000. You could buy a house for that. In some places, you could buy two*.

The Hubbin' and I both graduated with student loans to pay for our education. Our combined total at the time of consolidation was a little over 30k. Not too shabby, considering he went to an engineering college, and I was a professional student. But we both had family help, and I had a trust fund, so that significantly offset the cost for us. Still, our payments to the loan company, at a 4% locked rate, are still just shy of $300 per month. I can not even fathom how high they'd be if we had 140k financed. How do you live? How do you afford the basics - food, shelter, transportation to get to the job that you financed your life away to get? I went to school for writing, and teaching, by proxy. The average yearly salary for a new teacher is significantly less than the average cost of college for one year. How does that make sense?

Teachers are taking paycuts, supplies and materials are lacking, but at the same time, enrollment is up, the money from the hefty tuition is coming in. If it's not going to the teachers, and it's not going to the students via supplies and materials, where is all this money going?

If you're not outraged, you're not paying attention.

*If you find those places, let me know, okay?

The Thick Plottens

Yesterday I received the following comment on my Comcast Cable Co. rant:

Hello Saki, 

I apologize for the experience. I knew what you were referring to. We have a small box that you can get or a cable card. I will reach out to my contacts to verify the availability. 

Please provide the telephone number on the account if you are interested in my assistance.

Mark Casem 

Comcast Corp. 

National Customer Operations

We_Can_Help@cable.comcast.com

 

 

My initial reaction, of course, was "Okay, sure, Creepy McCreeperson, would you like my social security number, also?"

 

But then I realized yesterday was April Fool's Day, and began accusing friends (namely Mike and my Hubbin') of concocting the Comcast Hoax.  The Hubbin' suggested googling, which I did, and what I found was several stories from legitimate news sources all discussing Comcasts' new customer service team.  Still not convinced, I called (800) COM-CAST.

 

If you ever want to feel like a total asshole, call your cable company and tell them this:

 

"So, uh yeah...Bear with me here.  I have this blog, on the internet, and uh, I got mad at Comcast, so I um, you know...blogged about it...and then I got this comment on my blog, and it says to send my account phone number to this email address...and I know it's April Fool's Day and stuff, but it is a Comcast account and I was wondering if you could tell me if this is, you know, like...for reals?"

 

Right.  All the while, the Hubbin' was seated beside me, snickering away.  I was put on hold a few times - the person on the other end was probably snickering away, also.  After a few moments, she came back and said "No, this email address certainly has no affiliation with Comcast."  Curious.

 

But, it doesn't end there, kids.  We're just getting warmed up.  

 

The Hubbin' and I went back and forth on it for a while, not wanting to succumb to an identity scam, or worse, the plotted April Fool's trap of one of our friends (O' the humiliation!!).  Eventually, the desire for the tiny cable box overcame our reservation, and we tentatively fired off this email:

 

I received a comment on a post regarding comcast on my blog (www.msnbcasey.blogspot.com) and was asked to email the phone number linked to the account to this email address.  However, when I called (800) COM-CAST, I was told that they could not verify that this is a legitimate part of the comcast customer service team.

While we are intrigued by your offer to help, we are skeptical given the response we received from the comcast (800) number.  Is there any verification that you are actually a part of Comcast?

Thanks! :)

 

Before I knew it - HOLY SHIT!  They emailed me back!!!

 

Hello Casey,

We are indeed a legit team. We are a small team that works out of the corporate office in Philadelphia. If you google ComcastCares you will discover that we have helped many.

Because you have contacted us via your Comcast email address we can locate your account and contact info.

We will have one of our contacts reach out to you tomorrow.

Thanks for reaching out.

Sherri Carson

Digital Media Outreach

National Customer Operations

 

 

 

 

 

 

We emailed back and forth a few times last night.  I was hesitant to give any account information, after the (800) number assured me that it was a scam, But Sherri claimed she could pull account information since I had emailed her via a comcast.net account.

 

This morning, I scoured the internets, looking for the phone number for Comcast Headquarters.  If you ever really want to feel like a huge asshole, call a Corporate office and give them the same sob story you already told the general customer service.

 

The woman who answered the phone assured me Sherri was a legitimate employee and offered me her direct number.  Holy crap, you guys, this shit was for real!

 

Apparently, Comcast really does have people who search the web for people hatin' on Comcast and then they make it right!  

 

And so, between 5-8pm EST* on Friday, I will be the proud new owner of a sleek little cable box.

 

Well played, Comcast.  Well played.

 

 

 

*Just in case, check up on me after 8pm tomorrow, you can never be too certain with people you meet on the internets ;)