Let's Ban Caps Lock!

One of my biggest pet peeves is when people write with the Caps Lock key on. I'm not talking about the occasional word written in all caps for emphasis. I'm talking about whole sentences and paragraphs. (I realize this is petty in the grand scheme of things, but as a writer, it offends my eyeballs.)

I would rather see people use all lowercase letters - a la e.e. cummings, than all caps. It's just hard to read. And don't even get me started on people who write without using commas, periods or paragraphs. We all learned how to write properly in elementary school.

Every once in awhile, I press my caps lock key by mistake. However, it's pretty obvious when that happens so I delete the letters and start again using proper capitalization.

This morning, I was reading the comments on one of my favorite blogs. Someone wrote a comment in all caps - and then apologized for it. If you don't want to write in all caps, then don't! It's not like they make keyboards that only write in capital letters. Grr!

I realize I sound like a giant cow. However, I write for a living, so things like this bug me. I'm sure supermodels are offended by people who eat too many cheeseburgers, accountants are bothered by people who can't do math and fashion designers are offended by people who wear crocs.

Plus, this is my blog so I can be a giant cow if I want to be.

Three Beefs

I'm frantically getting ready for my trip to San Pedro, CA with Simon. (I'm meeting the family for the first time - yikes! I hope they like me!)

Even though I have lots to do, there's always time to complain about annoying crap. Actually, there's probably more than enough time seeing as how running around like a crazy woman makes me cranky!

Here are today's top three beefs:

1. Phone Solicitations: If you call and ask me to make a donation over the phone, I will tell you I do not give money over the phone but would be more than happy to look at a website or any literature that you mail me. It's nothing personal...I just don't trust random people who call me on the phone asking for money.
   
   Arguing with me is not going to make me any more likely to give you money, no matter how much I support your cause. In fact, arguing with me makes me LESS likely to support you. Just say "Thank you! I'll get information in the mail as soon as possible."
   
   
2. Snotty Caribou Coffee Employees: I got to the bank a few minutes before it opened this morning so I decided to walk over to Caribou Coffee to get a caffeine boost. One of their posters advertised a Dark Chocolate Latte. I like dark chocolate. I like lattes. Sounds good to me!
   
   I asked the barista for a Dark Chocolate Latte with skim milk. She looked startled and said "Do you mean a Dark Chocolate Mocha? There's no such thing as a Dark Chocolate Latte." I said, "Well, your sign says latte." She says "Mochas and lattes are the same thing, one has chocolate. I'll ring you up for a Dark Chocolate Mocha." I pointed at the sign and said "OK - but your sign says latte, just to let you know." I swear she rolled her eyes at me.
   
   I wasn't trying to be a snot, but if Dark Chocolate Lattes don't exist, maybe they shouldn't appear on one of the advertisements. When I got my coffee, she said "Here's your Dark Chocolate Mocha" and I wanted to dump it on her head.
   
   
3. The Fact That There Is a Health Care Debate -- If it were your family or your friends, you would want them to be able to get treated for medical conditions without being afraid of going bankrupt or losing their homes or deciding to die because treatment was too expensive. Yet, if it's a perfect stranger, it seems like people are more concerned about their pocketbooks.
   
   No one in this country should be unable to afford medical treatment. Period. Maybe this new health bill isn't perfect, but it's a start. At least President Obama and the Democrats are TRYING. All Republicans do is complain without offering any alternative ideas.
   
   And the whole abortion issue...seriously? That's what people are going to focus on. If I want to use my own personal money to have a LEGAL medical procedure done, that's MY business. It doesn't matter if I'm getting my insurance through the government. It's MY money, MY body, MY business, MY choice, MY decision to make with my doctor. It's none of YOUR beeswax. You're not paying for it. It doesn't affect you in any way, shape or form. Why do you even care?

And that's it for today's beefs! If I feel more pleasant later, I'll post something else!

I Am Not a Jiffy Lube Fan

Sadly, I couldn't get into my regular oil change place yesterday. Since I'm about 2,000 miles overdue, I figured I should get my oil changed before driving 6 hours to visit friends in Roanoke, Virginia. This meant I had to go to my neighborhood Jiffy Lube.

I HATE Jiffy Lube.

At my regular oil change place, they never, ever try to sell me ANYTHING unless it's absolutely necessary. For instance, they'll tell me I'll die if I keep driving my car with bad brakes. (No Dad, my brakes are fine. That was just an example.)

At Jiffy Lube, they make me look under the hood with them and point out things that I need fixed. For instance, they'll say some engine part is really dirty. Riddle me this...what engine parts are clean? It's a car engine. I'm not going to be cooking eggs on it.

Today, they tried to get me to buy the expensive oil, which was $30 more. They also tried to get me to have something done to my transmission fluid, which started at $105. They did manage to talk me into having a light bulb changed and my air filter replaced. However, had I listened to them, I would have spent over $200 instead of the $50 I spent. Ugh.

To paraphrase Sarah Palin, I think Jiffy Lube is sexist. I bet they don't try to talk big burly dudes into things - especially overpriced things.

Do They Think We're Stupid?

Yes, I'm still worried about my grandmother, but I can't think about it anymore or I'll drive myself nuts.

So on to new topics...

Edy's has shrunk their ice cream containers, but they're keeping the price the same. So now I'm paying more to get less. Um...methinks the Giant Eagle brand of ice cream is going to have to be good enough for me.

I'm so sick of everything being so expensive. Clothes, food, gas - it's insanely annoying.

Now I've Seen Everything

A Florida-based plastic surgeon has written a children's book called My Beautiful Mommy to help kids understand why their mother had plastic surgery.

I can just imagine how the conversation would go....

Mom: Well dear. I just couldn't imagine having Aunt Hortense's dreadful bumpy nose anymore. And while the doc was re-doing my face, I had him add a little pizazz to my lips. They look just like Angelina Jolie's!

Baby Gertrude: Don't I have Great-Aunt Hortense's dreadful bumpy nose too? It's ugly. I'm ugly. When can I have plastic surgery?

Mom: Oh no honey. You're beautiful just the way you are. The bumpy nose looks good on you. (But just in case, we're saving up for a nose job when you turn 18.)

I hate the idea that this book even exists - and I hate even more that people consider plastic surgery a normal thing to have. Just be happy with who you are - no matter how many lumps, bumps and wrinkles you've got.

I think it's amazing when you can look at old pictures of your relatives and find someone with your nose or chin. Instead of appreciating that shared history, it feels like we're sanitizing our culture. People would prefer to be bland instead of having quirks.

Eeek! They've Turned Strawberry Shortcake Into a Bratz Doll

When I was 5, I had a pimped-out Strawberry Shortcake room. Plus, I had all the dolls. (Although sadly, Lemon Meringue with her yellow boing-boing curls never smelled the same after I dropped her on the bus.) I even had one of those large soft Strawberry Shortcake dolls that blew strawberry kisses.

Of course, MY Strawberry Shortcake was wholesome and sweet - like the picture to the right! She was very Little House on the Prairie-esque - the perfect toy for a 5-year-old girl.

Meet the new Strawberry Shortcake. Like the Wakefield twins, she's gotten an unnecessary makeover to turn her into a strawberry-scented Bratz doll.

I actually think this makeover happened awhile ago and I'm just now finding out about it. In my day-to-day life, I have very little reason to even think about Strawberry Shortcake dolls. But now that I've seen it, I'm definitely thinking about it. I wish they would've left her alone.

They've turned Holly Hobbie into a hooch too. (Click here for a picture.) No more gingham for her! Say hello to tasseled bras. (Oh wait, that's me!)

Actually, it seems the sexed-up Holly is Hollie Hobbie's great granddaughter. (Click here to see.) What's weird is the original Holly Hobbie was a little girl when I was a little girl. I guess I could be a great grandmother if I had been knocked up at 10 and my daughter was knocked up at 10 and my daughter's daughter was knocked up at 10. Yep, pretty unlikely!

Size 6? You Heifer!

As a youngster, I was quite fond of Sweet Valley High books. In the 5th grade, I read them in my bathroom so my mom wouldn't catch me. (Although if one of the worst things I did was sneak the innocuous Sweet Valley High books, my parents had very little to complain about.)

For those who don't know, Jessica and Elizabeth (Liz) Wakefield were beautiful blonde twin sisters from California. Jessica was the wild, slutty one (although the books were relatively chaste, if I remember correctly) and Liz was the responsible, bookish one with the steady boyfriend.

Jessica the harlot is featured on this scandalous 'All Night Long' cover - not sure why she's with Tom Selleck. This was the book where she went out with a college guy - and I believe it was one of my favorites.

Sweet Valley High (or SVH as I like to call it) is being re-released for the masses. They've updated the series to make it more modern. I'm not a fan. Click here for the complete scoop. By the way, the 'Double Love' cover below is the revamped version.

Here's my beef: the twins were always 'the perfect size 6,' which was unattainable to my (at-the-time) not-so-perfect size 14 self.

Apparently size 6 is obese by modern standards. The Wakefield twins are now a 'perfect size 4,' which means even at my smallest, I will never, ever catch up to that Wakefield perfection.

Would modern teen readers even notice? "Oh - they're size 6? What cows! This book must be from the 80s. I think my mom read it when she was little. Where's the latest Gossip Girl?"

Want more awesomeness, click here for the opening credits of Sweet Valley High the TV series, which my roommates and I watched religiously my freshman year of college.

OK - your turn. What was your fondest SVH memory? Am I the only one who read this trash?

My Beef With Sprint

My cell phone broke. More specifically, the LCD screen is completely white with black squiggles so I can't see my friend's phone numbers, any text messages or the number I'm dialing. Annoying!

Part 1: Searching for a Repair Shop

On Thursday, I go to Sprint's website, find the closest repair shop to me and go out on my lunch hour to get my phone fixed. After driving around for my entire lunch hour, I determine the shop doesn't exist. Last night, I go to the second closest repair shop to me according to Sprint's website. I map it out, make it all the way there...and they've moved. They have a map on their door so I head to the next location. Surprise, surprise - they put the wrong map on the door. Apparently I spent an hour driving around the wrong side of Sawmill Road.

Part 2: The Manufacturer's Warranty

Completely peeved, I call customer service. The rep tells me the closest repair shop is in Grove City, which is about 40 minutes from me. My other option is to make an insurance claim and pay $50. I told her I didn't want to pay $50 to fix a phone I've only had for four months. "Oh!" she exclaims. "You're covered by the manufacturer's warranty. Just go to any Sprint store and swap it out."

I drive to the nearest Sprint store, where it turns out I AM covered by the manufacturer's warranty, but I'd have to mail my phone to directly to Samsung and I'd get it back in 3-4 weeks. That seems like an annoying option - and at this point, I'm about ready to cry - so she tells me there's a repair store at Easton open until 9 p.m. I drive 20 minutes to Easton and got there about an hour before it closed.

Part 3: The Repair Shop

The checkout guy examines my phone and says "Your LCD screen is cracked. Did you drop it?" I explain I was charging my phone and then went to use it and the screen was all messed up. "No...you must've dropped it. Do you keep it in your purse?" Obviously I do, because where the hell else are you supposed to keep your phone? "Well that's it - it must've broken in your purse."

He says it'll take 15-20 minutes to fix and that in 30 minutes I should go to the front of the store and tell the guy working there that I've come to pick up my phone. This doesn't make a lot of sense as someone would have to pass me in order to talk to the guy at the front of the store but apparently that's the process.

The store is filled with the most scary, ghetto people on earth - a couple of high school or college girls wearing track pants that said 'Apple Bottom' on the butt. What the hell does that even mean? They were flirting in an overly sexual manner with the gross checkout boys so I decide to go to Panera to get away from the insanity About 15 minutes later, I come back and sit down. The checkout guy says "Did you go tell the guy you're here to pick-up your phone?" I explained it hadn't been 30 minutes so I was just going to hang out. "No! Go tell him." So I did, and surprise, surprise, my phone isn't ready.

While I'm waiting, I ask the guy what car charger works with my phone. He gives me one and I buy it. The check-out guy rings me up, and throws the box and all the packaging away. Finally, the guy from the front of the store brings me my phone and explains that he's sorry, but they're going to have to replace it so I'll have to come back on Monday or Tuesday to pick it up.

Part 4: The Finale

He goes on to explain that they don't even carry parts for that model in the shop so the only way they can fix it is to replace it. At this point, I'm pissed. If they didn't carry that model, couldn't they have told me at the very beginning so I didn't have to wait 30 minutes? Don't they know what they can fix and what they can't?

I ask the dude this and he looks at me like I'm crazy. Then he says, "Well, we have to check for water damage." I'm going to show him water damage. (I don't really know what that means, but it felt good to type.) It would've even been better had they said, "We're going to have to replace it, but first we'll have to check it for water damage so we know if it's covered by your insurance."

To top it off, the charger they gave me doesn't fit my phone. I have no packaging, so I hope my receipt will be good enough. I hope I get the same model of phone back. Otherwise, I'm going to open up a can of whoop ass. And if my phone isn't red, I'm going to open up a second can of whoop ass. Argh.