Bastard Ass Mega-Stores...and lawyers

From today's New Jersey Lawyer, Daily Briefing (an email based newsletter):

As if Wal-Mart doesn’t have enough revenue, it recently sued in Oregon state court and was awarded $175 from a retired couple who forgot to pay a $10 bill for 10 bags of steer manure. Charles and Cheryl Gastorf say that after they forgot to add the manure tab in a hectic shopping spree, the giant retailer sued under a state law that allows retailers to pursue civil penalties regardless of whether a person is found guilty of theft. Mr. Gastorf said the couple did not fight the claim, but denied guilt, noting, “We wouldn’t want to embark on a life of crime at our ages and become manure thieves.” Wal-Mart has said it plans to refund the money. 8-23-05

Now I love a bargain probably even more than the nexy guy, and when living in VA where WalMart ruled the land, I spent a lot of my money in that place, and I of course realize keeping prices low probably ain't easy, but goddamn this pisses me off! What I'd like to know is how much the fucking a-holes paid their lawyers to go after a retired couple for a few bucks. And what fucking lawyer thought this was a worthwhile case? God, lawyers are assholes. Or at least some of us are. I like to think I'm not quite that bad. But then again, I still new to this so I guess the jury is still out.

Here we go again...

My bitchiness over (for this month at least)...I feel I can write again wthout scaring anyone :)

SO.............


Goooo Giants!!!!!!! We went to our first home game on Saturday night and had a blast watching the G-man slam Carolina. Granted, it was only pre-season, but it is always fun watching the Giants win, even if it doesn't count for shit. Of course I spent all day Sunday with no voice, but that happens the day after every home game. And we go to them all!! At least last year we did - we didn't miss a single one, not even when it was cold or raining. We're like freaking mailmen when it comes to our boys (FYI -- we are lucky enough to have season tickets thanks to my awesome Uncle Joe who moved too far away to take advantage of his tickets). In fact, I actually passed up a day at the beach to go to Saturday's game -- when I got up on Saturday morning, it was so dreary and the weather man said it was gonna rain, (plus I had a bit of a hangover), so I figured, fuck it -- there are still a few more weekends left to hit the beach. And if not, well, I'll just have to take another vacation. I already am gonna miss the next home pre-season game (unless I want to buy an extra ticket: DH has a deal with a Jets fan friend of his and they always bring each other to the pre-season Giants-Jets game). Not that I'm against having the house to myself for the night -- that almost never happens. Plus, I'm not in full obsession-mode yet (that won't start for a few more weeks yet) but I still may buy a ticket.

Anywho - not a whole hell of a lot has happened since I last chimed in. Friends are getting divorced; other friends are getting married; amd still yet other friends are having kids. Same shit, different day. I did get some Maui pics printed - OMG they are so fan-fuckin-tastic, they look like postcards. Seriously. I can't wait to have them framed. Oh - and to post some here. I still have more to tell about my vacay to end all vacays. But that will have to wait for another day. After I've had time to transfer the pics to disc. Or something. Or whatever. I'll get to it eventually. Really. I promise.

Today sucks

Sometimes I really hate being a girl. I'm crampy and bloated and bitchy and just plain sick & tired. You males have no idea how easy you have it.

Oh and if you don't want to hear about it, then don't listen. Or read. Or whatever the fuck you call it.

Did I mention I'm feeling a little bitchy?

I'm melting...

I think I may have lost about 10 pounds this weekend. I believe I actually sweat it all off. In a matter of hours. Indoors. And I was not at the gym.

Saturday night was the long awaited housewarming of a good friend and former colleague of mine. This poor guy had been through hell and back buying his top-floor-sweet-ass-apartment in NYC and after finally closing and moving and setttling in, he invited a bunch of folks over for a pre-clubbing houswarming event. Well warming is not exactly the word I would use. Housesweltering is more like it. It seems my friend had landed himself back in hell.

I know - it sounds kinda bitchy, but it was fucking hot. I mean like seriously uber hot. Who throws parties - in August - when the AC doesn't work and the windows don't open? Even Satan himself would have been like, What the hell is wrong with the AC up in here? It was actually hotter in his place than it was outside. And that's saying alot because Saturday in the City was about as nasty as it could get without people actually dropping dead in the street from heat exhaustion. And that may have actually happened - I can't be sure cause I don't watch the news.

In any case, we eventually learned that the reason it was so hot was because the little slats on the AC would not point in any direction except straight up so we took turns standing directly in front of the AC unit. Of course that meant that I spent Sunday with a miserable AC cold. But even with the heat, it was still a good party - mostly because apparently my friend can cook his ass off (which obviously did not help with the heat issue). There was tons of booze too but it was my turn to be the designated driver so that wasn't helping me any. And we didn't make it out after -- I was feeling a little ill from losing 50% of the water in my bod. Plus the Giants were playing - there is no clubbing when Big Blue is on.

Don't Stand Behind the Gripman

As promised, I am finally going to tell some stories from my vacation.

We arrived in San Fran on a Friday night. Our plane had been delayed on the way out but they made up the time in the air. The flight still sucked. Coach always sucks.

We arrived late on a Friday night, grabbed our luggage and went outside to find our ride -- one of those vans that charges per person. We ended up being the only people in the van so that was cool - it was like a really comfortable cab ride, but cost way less. We got to our hotel and were pleasantly surprised. We had found it on Hotwire.com and knew nothing about the place til we got there. The room was kind of small but we didn't plan on spending much time there so that wasn't a problem. In fact, as soon as we checked in and dropped off our stuff, we headed right out. We went to some bar called Whiskey & Thieves near the hotel. Cool place: good crowd, good music, cheap beer and you could smoke. Having been used to NYC bars, that was a nice change. I know, I know - smoking is a disgusting habit, but whatever. I like it and it was nice being able to do it indoors over a cold one. We stayed at the bar til it closed and stumbled back to our hotel.

The next day, we made a plan to see as much of the City as we could without getting on one of those stupid tour buses. I hate those stupid buses. Instead, we rode the cable car from Union Square to Fisherman's Wharf and laughed our asses off at the tourists who kept standing behind the gripman - in obvious disregard of the blatant language on the man's vest. And yes, I realize I was a tourist too, but we were not nearly as ignorant as most. Again, having lived in NYC, hating tourists, and knowing how not to act like one, was second nature to us. And yes, I realize the Wharf is a tourist trap, but like I already said, we were tourists, just not assholes.

Anyway, we hopped off the cable car at the top of the crookedest street in the world. While walking down to the Wharf we spotted this thing called a "Go Car" -- after realizing it wasn't too pricey, we rented one, hopped in, got our picture taken, and took off for a GPS guided tour of San Fran. And no - I didn't put the picture of us in the Go Car here because, well, I look like a dork 'cause they make you wear a helmet. So off we go, zipping around the city at a top speed of...30 miles per hour. Not Indy, but in these things, fast enough. We got to see a good part of the city, including the Golden Gate shrouded in fog, but while we were turning into Golden Gate Park, our GPS stoppped working. After several seriously aggravating calls to the rental place, we learned it wasn't coming back on and had to find our own way back to the Wharf. Which we eventually did, after giving up trying to climb the hill to Twin Peaks -- the Go Car just didn't have the muscle for it. Needless to say, we got back to the rental place safe & sound - having thoroughly enjoyed our tour. We even got a discount due to the defective GPS. But later that night was when the real San Fran experience happened...

After checking out the Wharf area, and eating at Joe's, we stopped at the hotel to shower and change and then off we went to Haight-Ashbury for the night. By the way - if you are ever traveling to San Fran in July, bring a sweater. And some jeans. And maybe even a scarf. Because it is fucking cold there at night. And nobody warned us. Not even our friend who used to live there. Thanks, dickhead. (fyi - that's not an insult, its a nickname).

Anyway, we grabbed a cab to the Haight and hit some bar with a sweet backyard. Before long, we had made friends with some locals, mostly thanks to DH who can strike up a convo with just about anyone. The folks we met were uber-friendly (uber - that's my new San Fran word) and we decided we loved this city. As the bar was closing, our new friend Patrick invited us to his place for more drinks. Who were we to say no. By 2AM, this is the best part, we found ourselves drinking beers (and partaking of other party substances - wink, wink) while looking out Patrick's living room window over the corner of Haight & Ashbury. That's right - the actual corner of Haight & Ashbury. In a apartment. With big picture windows. I know, it sounds unbelievable -- we get to the city not knowing a soul and in about 24 hours we're hanging out, literally, at Haight-Ashbury--unbelievable, but its true. Of course I don't have pictures to prove it. Despite my usually being a picture taking freak, I didn't bring the camera that night. But we were there - until almost dawn!! - and it was fucking awesome. I think maybe it was karma's way of paying us back for the GPS debacle. Of course the Haight ain't what it used to be (or so I've been told). Staring out over the corner of Haight & Ashbury, besides us, was a Gap, a Ben & Jerrys, and some other corporate outlet. DH thinks it was Starbucks, but I can't remember and their website doesn't show one there. Whatever...Starbucks, WiIlliams Sonoma, it was some neighborhood culture sucking monster. But is was still too cool for words. Even if you don't believe me. I went to bed that night (well actually, the next morning) with dreams of flower children and the astonishing looks my friends would give me when I told them this story.

The next day, Sunday, we were a little spent. Staying out partying til 5 or 6AM is not exactly our usual M.O. But since it was our last day, we forced ourselves out of bed and intothe city. We rode one of the antique streetcars to p[cik up some tees at the San Fran Harley shop and then headed to Chinatown. Mostly we wandered the shops and had a fucking fantastic meal at Empress of China (if you like Chinese and are ever in San Fran, you have to eat there. Try the Walnut Prawns. I can only describe the dish as orgasmic). My favorite part of the day, however, was the "Wake Up America" man (see pic). I know you can't really read his signs in the pic, but this was a man after my own heart. His signs basically say Bush is a liar , that the neo-con-Christians who are trying to run this country know nothing of God's love (otherwise they wouldn't support war or Bush the liar), and that Amerca should be ashamed of it all. Goddess bless that man!

So that's our San Fran trip in as few words as I can manage (if you're reading this and know me well, you know I am not exactly a person of few words). We didn't go out that last night - the night before had wiped us out. Plus, we had to catch an early flight to Maui the next morn. Which we did. And which I will ramble on about another time. Until then, remember, don't stand behind the gripman or people will laugh at you.

Oh - and if anyone knows how to get rid of date stamps on pics, please comment here and let me know. I included them by accident and they really piss me off.

More hours in the day please

As much as I really, really want to brag about my vaca, and tell stories about the wonders I saw and the adventures I had, I just haven't had the time to get online. I don't even really have the time to do this entry. But after missing nearly 3 weeks, I feel I should at least say something every few days or so; not like anyone really reads this thing (except maybe D-bud) but what the hell, ya never know. :)

Anyway - I figured if I could just find an extra hour or so each day (without, of course, giving up any sleep) I would have the time to get things done. Well, maybe not everything - but most things. I at least would have a chance to look at the gazillions of pictures I took in Maui. I'd cut my work hours but (1) I think my bosses might frown on that, and (2) I already have barely enough time to get everything done I need to get done while I'm here. It seems everyday I come into the office, my "to do" pile has grown exponentially -- they gave me 5 new cases in just the last couple of days. I really have no room to complain - I did after all just come back from an extended vaca, and also did only start my job 6 weeks before taking that vaca, but still...What ever happened to easing back into things? So - my point - I need an extra hour which I can't take from work, and won't take from sleep, so whoever the powers that be are that rule time, hook me up. Kay? Because, if I didn't have a nasty 'to do' pile staring at me right now, maybe I'd have time to tell the story about me and DH having drinks in an apartment on the corner of Haight & Ashbury...but that pile won't go anywhere on its own, so that story will just have to wait for another time.

Back to the real world...

And I don't mean the series on MTV.

Yesterday, I got back from a 15 day vacation. Today, I had to come back to work, and I was none too happy about it. My head is still reeling from the beauty of Maui, my heart is still a little broken at having had to come home (and back to work), and it appears that jet lag has taken hold of my ability to stay awake or concentrate on anything more complex than this post. Plus, my new tat is starting to aggravate me -- if only I could have stayed on a permanent vacation, I could be wearing shorts instead of slacks and flip-flops instead of whatever you call these stupid fancy shoes they make me wear. I need to either (1) win the lottery, (2) have some long-lost relative leave me a ton of bucks, or (3) find a sugar daddy for me and a sugar mama for my DH, because I have come to the realization that it is highly unlikely that I will ever to be able to afford the lifestyle we want without one of those things happening. Sure, I could work my whole life and hope to have a cool retirement, but I'd much prefer to begin my retirement while I'm young enough to enjoy it. People say to do what you love and then the money will follow. But that's crap -- you need at least some financial backing (parental or otherwise) to take the time to figure out what it is that makes you happy in the first place. For folks like me who have always had to have a job in order to have things such as food and a roof, figuring out what makes you happy is tougher. In my case, I still don't know.

Anyway, in the days to come, I will recap my vacation adventures, and even include pictures if I can manage to stay awake long enough to review the hundreds of shots I took while away and upload the best ones.