The new customer service techniques, as I experienced today at Officemax, are to blame the customer and make righting a mistake by the business as difficult and humiliating on the customer as is humanly possible.
Officemax has these new techniques down pat. I finally get over there. But I misplaced the receipt in the chaos of the flea market. I had called them from there, to tell them of the extreme mix up they caused me in copying the Christmas book.
Their mistake, in copying one side of one original with another side of a second page of original messed me up very badly and caused me to be up half Saturday night trying to make sense of the mess, then to print off the two double sided pages needed to make some complete copies, during which, my printer broke three times. I was able to fix it twice and gave up finally the last time. It sits now, crumpled and dead.
I too feel as broken as that printer after the treatment I received at Officemax. I did get a $3.20 refund for the 20 double sided copies made of the faulty page, but I didn't even get that pittance, without a fight. I thought they'd be eager to make things right. They were not.
In fact, they claimed I could not get any refund if I didn't sort out the one bad page, from all 20 sets of copies (they had collated them) with that bad page in the middle, and then bring them every one of the 20 bad copies. Then, the woman offered, they'd give me my refund. What the fuck?
I said "I live in Albany, you know that, and am wasting time and gas just coming over here, to straighten it out. Now, you want me to sort through every single colation to find the page you messed up, before you'll even give me a refund on the bad pages?"
"Oh, we'll work with you on getting that done." What the fuck?
These fucking assholes. They should have been jumping through hoops after their mistake put me through. But they don't give a fuck anymore. The customer is always wrong now. Not only that, but they want to mock the customer, roll their eyes, and on and on. Every one of them deserve to lose their job.
I left with my $3.20. I only got it after a noodle limp manager came over. "Have a safe drive home," he offered. "Fuck you," I thought.
That was only part of my day. I tried to find a resolution, by e-mailing the city, over the nasty neighbors and got nothing but more limp noodle responses. I can't build a fence out front because they have ordinances against that. The police can't do anything about them parking there or yelling at me unless they commit a crime, oh but please call them every time.
I am really fed up with limp noodles, limp noodle ordinances and assholes everywhere. There is no place for honesty in the world. There is no place for decent behavior either. All rewards go to assholes.
My neighbor gave me a $20 gift card to Animal Crackers she won in a contest, counting candy, in a Safehaven fundraiser. Animal Crackers is extremely expensive. I wandered its aisles today and could not find anything I could get for under $20 that wouldn't be a complete waste of that precious $20. So I sold the card outside the store to a customer and used the money to buy cat food at Winco.
Seeing how they have rebuilt the store to make a huge adoption room for Heartland animals made me feel even more like an outcaste. I once tried to be included there, with just one cage for my own rescued cats, but was turned down by the owner. That has not stopped employees from giving out my number to people with cat problems, however.
I am stupid. People use me and do nothing in return. I get run over, run down, and I have no supporters locally who donate or volunteer routinely. There is no respect locally for the cat the stuff I've done. I am simply here to use. That's how it feels, to see all this support go elsewhere, but still be called so often for help.
I have been stupid to do so much for so many. Stupid. But I don't regret helping the cats. I see their faces, the desperate faces. When no one else was there, to save some of these kittens and cats, I'm glad I was. I need to remember that. It is all that really matters.
I am beat down right now is all--injuries, money issues, clothes, car failing, the neighbor problem, winter coming, adoptions nonexistent, etc. And I want to leave here more than ever before. I can't seem to find a way out. I continue to try. I want to go where I might have friends to laugh with, do things with, have coffee with.
I have all these cats tying me down. How will I move on?
Tuesday, September 07, 2010
Burn a Quran Day?
I could not care less if some church burns Qurans. Add to the pile most religious books please, like the Book of Mormon, heck add them all.
I'm not into man made religions. Sure, there are good people in some of the churches and good things are done by some churches. But many use a church as a political means or a means to promote their message or as a power pulpit to fuel a preachers desire to lead sheep down his path.
I'm not going to follow anybody. I don't have a pack or fan mentality mindset either.
I sometimes envy those who do. They bond with lots of people, but only do so when willing to take on, usually, those people's same beliefs or glorify in fan pack fashion, the same revered gods. And there are lots of revered gods in our world, some religious, some not.
I stay away from fan packs. Including political pack mentality where the leader of the pack or the pack dogma guides voting, instead of reason. Politics too is composed of religions. Oh yes, the democrats are really a church and so are the Republicans. They are also equivalent to a franchised huge revered sports team, like the Red Socks or the Yankees. All the same to me.
Going to burn Qurans? I don't care. But in doing so, you'll probably kill soldiers.
I don't like the beliefs of Islam. Especially the way they treat women in the more radical fundamentalist sects. But I don't like the way many American and worldwide religions treat women as unequals.
Would I burn books held sacred to another culture or group? No way. Never.
But many people across our globe including in Muslim countries don't care about anybody but themselves. They're burning our flag right now in Afghanistan and feel that's ok. It isn't. Burning something back is sure tempting, get back at those ungrateful shitheads for whom so many of ours have died and where so much taxpayer money has been also burned.
The shitheads and assholes in every country and culture are the loudest you see, and perpetrate the most outrageous disgusting acts. Burning American flags in Afghanistan. Burning Qurans in America. Shitheads and assholes do such things. And there are plenty of shitheads, illiterates, and assholes in every country of the world, in every culture and in every religion. Ignore them all if you can.
Would it do any good to get back by burning Qurans? No. That's just the way it is.
I'm not into man made religions. Sure, there are good people in some of the churches and good things are done by some churches. But many use a church as a political means or a means to promote their message or as a power pulpit to fuel a preachers desire to lead sheep down his path.
I'm not going to follow anybody. I don't have a pack or fan mentality mindset either.
I sometimes envy those who do. They bond with lots of people, but only do so when willing to take on, usually, those people's same beliefs or glorify in fan pack fashion, the same revered gods. And there are lots of revered gods in our world, some religious, some not.
I stay away from fan packs. Including political pack mentality where the leader of the pack or the pack dogma guides voting, instead of reason. Politics too is composed of religions. Oh yes, the democrats are really a church and so are the Republicans. They are also equivalent to a franchised huge revered sports team, like the Red Socks or the Yankees. All the same to me.
Going to burn Qurans? I don't care. But in doing so, you'll probably kill soldiers.
I don't like the beliefs of Islam. Especially the way they treat women in the more radical fundamentalist sects. But I don't like the way many American and worldwide religions treat women as unequals.
Would I burn books held sacred to another culture or group? No way. Never.
But many people across our globe including in Muslim countries don't care about anybody but themselves. They're burning our flag right now in Afghanistan and feel that's ok. It isn't. Burning something back is sure tempting, get back at those ungrateful shitheads for whom so many of ours have died and where so much taxpayer money has been also burned.
The shitheads and assholes in every country and culture are the loudest you see, and perpetrate the most outrageous disgusting acts. Burning American flags in Afghanistan. Burning Qurans in America. Shitheads and assholes do such things. And there are plenty of shitheads, illiterates, and assholes in every country of the world, in every culture and in every religion. Ignore them all if you can.
Would it do any good to get back by burning Qurans? No. That's just the way it is.
Monday, September 06, 2010
The Assholes
The asshole neighbors are parked out front of my bedroom again. No sleep tonight.
The crux of my issue with them is after the incident with them out front of my bedroom in their dark pickup in the night, when I called the police, I went and talked to them, offered them the olive branch. Said I would not call the police if they simply parked there and caused no problems, told them their behavior that night had scared me, all that. They promised to not "store" their vehicle there and that if they parked in front of my place, they would cause no worries.
Then they proceeded to take advantage of my olive branch and even stomp on it. They parked all sorts of cars in front of my place. Then that one night, there was the Jeep type thing with bad muffler coming and going, every twenty minutes or half hour, with all that noise, and the pickup, and later the two guys yelling in through my window, drunk. That's why they're assholes, because they're liars and when someone tries to make peace they stomp on that. That's how assholes behave.
They can't accomodate all their cars at their place so they park them everywhere else, and not only that, harrass the people whose houses they use for parking their excess cars with the noise of them coming and going, and even verbally when drunk. They're selfish. It's like stealing people's peace and space.
The woman was whining about not being accepted in the neighborhood and yet they have chosen to behave like little kids. It's all about them and accomodating their excessive needs with all those cars. They don't care about anyone else.
They speed down the street without regard for anything in their path.
I wish they'd move. They belong out away from other houses, with a field they can use as a parking lot.
The crux of my issue with them is after the incident with them out front of my bedroom in their dark pickup in the night, when I called the police, I went and talked to them, offered them the olive branch. Said I would not call the police if they simply parked there and caused no problems, told them their behavior that night had scared me, all that. They promised to not "store" their vehicle there and that if they parked in front of my place, they would cause no worries.
Then they proceeded to take advantage of my olive branch and even stomp on it. They parked all sorts of cars in front of my place. Then that one night, there was the Jeep type thing with bad muffler coming and going, every twenty minutes or half hour, with all that noise, and the pickup, and later the two guys yelling in through my window, drunk. That's why they're assholes, because they're liars and when someone tries to make peace they stomp on that. That's how assholes behave.
They can't accomodate all their cars at their place so they park them everywhere else, and not only that, harrass the people whose houses they use for parking their excess cars with the noise of them coming and going, and even verbally when drunk. They're selfish. It's like stealing people's peace and space.
The woman was whining about not being accepted in the neighborhood and yet they have chosen to behave like little kids. It's all about them and accomodating their excessive needs with all those cars. They don't care about anyone else.
They speed down the street without regard for anything in their path.
I wish they'd move. They belong out away from other houses, with a field they can use as a parking lot.
Brutus
Brutus is one of four kittens, born unwanted, in a boat in down town Albany to a discarded Lynx Pt. Siamese mom, Laurel, who was then fed by an old woman who moved here from New York. She had, I'm told 9 litters at least, before someone wised up and called me, so she could be caught and fixed.
The old woman kept the only Siamese looking kitten. A low income woman was brought one of the three left by the owner of the boat and she gave him away immediately, despite his tender bottle babe age, to I don't know whom. She was also brought the last two boys, both brown tabbies, and then called and asked me to take them. She lives across the street from the old woman who feeds Laurel their mom and around the block from the people who own the boat where Laurel had her kittens.
One boy has already gone to a home, but Brutus here, was a hisser spitter and had a URI. He's about up to neuter weight and now getting antifungal shampoos, in hope of keeping him fungus free.
This morning, both Nemo and Brutus got antifungal shampoos.
The old woman kept the only Siamese looking kitten. A low income woman was brought one of the three left by the owner of the boat and she gave him away immediately, despite his tender bottle babe age, to I don't know whom. She was also brought the last two boys, both brown tabbies, and then called and asked me to take them. She lives across the street from the old woman who feeds Laurel their mom and around the block from the people who own the boat where Laurel had her kittens.
One boy has already gone to a home, but Brutus here, was a hisser spitter and had a URI. He's about up to neuter weight and now getting antifungal shampoos, in hope of keeping him fungus free.
This morning, both Nemo and Brutus got antifungal shampoos.
Sunday, September 05, 2010
Updated Cats Here Photos
I also had yet another pair of jeans fall apart today. Unfortunately, it occurred while setting up at the Flea Market. They came apart around the pockets on both sides in the butt. Four pairs in two weeks. I had not worn this pair for quite some time, due to their thread bare nature, but with so many other jean failures, I pulled them out to wear again. I know it's because some pairs are used when I get them and then I wash them over and over. This pair, despite being used when I got them, lasted over three years. I didn't want to give up on the Flea Market and all I had to repair jeans for privacy sake was duct tape. So.....duct tape butt.
I wear T shirts until they can no longer be worn in public, then I wear them as nightshirts. This one finally gave up function even as a nightshirt and now will move on to the cat bedding category of use.
The handsome Sam!
And then there is Zack.
Slurpy likes to take it easy, the easier the better.
Slurpy is not afraid to relax.
Absolutely unafraid of unabashed relaxation. Slurpy has moved into the Cush Kitty category also occupied by Deaf Miss Daisy. Such cats dedicate their lives to cushy living. They don't like mice and would never hunt or eat one. They like to lay around in utter comfort and bliss, stretching, yawning, sleeping, playing and enjoying life to its fullest, exhibiting very little initiative. If they were people, they would be scorned (and privately envied) as lazy leeches by talk radio hosts.
Peko buds around with mentor Sam.
Peko shows that spot of ringworm on his cheek. You can see only a couple tiny red spots because his cheek fur color there is desceptively tannish. It's now almost invisible.
Peko on the bed.
Machi, showing off his upper lip fungus. I'm killing it off, and quickly. I experiment you see. Nothing toxic, nothing dangerous.This is not the common green glow under blacklite ringworm. This is the type I've seen that likes the thicker hair on the face, chin and whiskers, but it starts in the nails. But, this type goes away much quicker. I've seen it once before. It even likes to feed on the dead hair cells in whiskers.
Garage Sell Nets $81
Selling stuff, some my neighbor donated that was headed to Goodwill, and some homemade cat toys, some surplus garden things I never used, netted me a good time and $81, which will go on the credit card bill incurred for Hairy's antibiotic shot.
I had a relaxing time talking and joking with people. There was very little traffic most of the time. Very little foot traffic by that parking lot all day. Might have been because it's a Sunday or because it's a holiday weekend.
But, I got it together and got over there. I pushed those rescued kittens, too, looking for homes. I had someone call possibly interested in Echo and Fantasia, but they have not called back. I get wound up excited if I have a potential adoptor but I don't count on it anymore, because I've learned most are shopping around and most will not call back. I had high hopes, however.
It's tough but I keep trying and will keep trying. Zach is such a wonderful cat, if people could just meet him. He's got charisma. He just loves being loved and will follow you around like a dog, would be such a great companion to someone who might be lonely. He refuses to go out into the cat yard even and would be just fine with a disbaled person in a small apartment even. Well, I'll keep at it. I know there is someone out there who would adore Zach. Who wouldn't?
My most adoptable cats are the kittens: Echo, Fantasia, Peko, Nemo, Starry, Slurpy, Machi and Brutus, although Brutus has not quite made weight for neuter. The family who indicated they'd wait for Peko to clear of ringworm changed their mind (husband veto) but now I have someone waiting for Machi, and if they don't pan out, my friends who adopted Machi's sisters, might have someone in mind. So there's hope for Machi's adoption. I can't find any green glow ringworm, except the one spot on Machi's upper lip and that's good news. I continue the bathing and treatment with topical antifungals on all, just as preventive.
Besides the kittens, Zach is my most adoptable adult. Besides him, Poppy and Tugs are highly adoptable. Matilda also, given time to adjust. Teddy is highly adoptable but would have to go with friends. And he loves Peko. He adores Peko. Machi and Brutus are best buddies, too, although now seperated, to try to keep Brutus free of ringworm.
I am going to take out a 30 day ad on the Oregonians' website tomorrow. I once got two kittens homes advertising there. I am focusing on Zach right now, because with the kittens, I have disclose their exposure to ringworm. There are people out there who couldn't care less. I'm one of them. But kids, kittens, older pets and older people are more susceptible.
I had a relaxing time talking and joking with people. There was very little traffic most of the time. Very little foot traffic by that parking lot all day. Might have been because it's a Sunday or because it's a holiday weekend.
But, I got it together and got over there. I pushed those rescued kittens, too, looking for homes. I had someone call possibly interested in Echo and Fantasia, but they have not called back. I get wound up excited if I have a potential adoptor but I don't count on it anymore, because I've learned most are shopping around and most will not call back. I had high hopes, however.
It's tough but I keep trying and will keep trying. Zach is such a wonderful cat, if people could just meet him. He's got charisma. He just loves being loved and will follow you around like a dog, would be such a great companion to someone who might be lonely. He refuses to go out into the cat yard even and would be just fine with a disbaled person in a small apartment even. Well, I'll keep at it. I know there is someone out there who would adore Zach. Who wouldn't?
My most adoptable cats are the kittens: Echo, Fantasia, Peko, Nemo, Starry, Slurpy, Machi and Brutus, although Brutus has not quite made weight for neuter. The family who indicated they'd wait for Peko to clear of ringworm changed their mind (husband veto) but now I have someone waiting for Machi, and if they don't pan out, my friends who adopted Machi's sisters, might have someone in mind. So there's hope for Machi's adoption. I can't find any green glow ringworm, except the one spot on Machi's upper lip and that's good news. I continue the bathing and treatment with topical antifungals on all, just as preventive.
Besides the kittens, Zach is my most adoptable adult. Besides him, Poppy and Tugs are highly adoptable. Matilda also, given time to adjust. Teddy is highly adoptable but would have to go with friends. And he loves Peko. He adores Peko. Machi and Brutus are best buddies, too, although now seperated, to try to keep Brutus free of ringworm.
I am going to take out a 30 day ad on the Oregonians' website tomorrow. I once got two kittens homes advertising there. I am focusing on Zach right now, because with the kittens, I have disclose their exposure to ringworm. There are people out there who couldn't care less. I'm one of them. But kids, kittens, older pets and older people are more susceptible.
Pain and Suffering from OfficeMax
So, I saw an article in the GT about a swap meet held weekly in Corvallis, no charge for a table, and I called to get a table. That was like on Thursday.
I had no stuff to sell. I have nothing that's worth anything here. I didn't let that stop me from signing up. I can be very short sighted.
Last minute, I round a few things up. The neighbor gave me some books and a few other things headed otherwise for Goodwill. I had a few unwanted things. I made a few cat toys, then decided to crank up my old hard drive, that sometimes works, to yank off the Publisher file that holds the Christmas story chapbook I wrote a few years back. I was going to print it up and see if I could sell a few copies.
My latest hard drive won't handle or convert the file since it does not have Publisher, any version, on it, just Word, that's it. I ended up having to connect up the monitor, then mouse and keyboard, to that old hard drive. Back and forth, back and forth, because I have only one mouse and one keyboard. The exclusion room I built to keep the cats away from my computer is tiny.
My life is an assemblage of broken parts. That includea my body and most of my possessions. I'm always trying to fix something, keep it going a little bit longer.
For instance, I like having my windows down when I drive. I love the feel of the wind. But, due to that broken switch, that sometimes works, sometimes doesn't, I had some trouble when I even arrived at OfficeMax. I parked and the switch was in a non working mode. I couldn't roll up the window. I took it apart. AGAIN! Right there, using the screwdrive I keep handy, and manuelly manipulated the lever. It was a go, and I could roll up the window. I left it all apart hanging by the wires to go into the store. I'm fed up with the darn switch.
I print up one copy of the pages plus all the cover pages, because they have color on them, then head to OfficeMax with the nine double sided pages to copy them there. I fumble around and finally ask the copy area clerk's help. She asks how many pages I have, then says she could do the double sided 9 pages cheaper if she did it, instead of if I did so, on the public machine there. She'll even have the machine collate. "Great," I say.
I bring them home and am about to assemble, when I realize something is very very wrong.
There are only 8 double sided pages. There should be nine. They charged me for 20 copies of each page, but did not return my originals. I was mad to discover all these mistakes. But that was only the beginning. She hadn't just not copied one page. One page she had copied, both sides, 20 times, included parts of that page and the missing page. OMG!!!! Took me forever to figure it out because I didn't number the book pages. I will never make that mistake again.
Because of the jumbling of 2 pages by the clerk (or the machine she used), with print on both sides, printing one side of each of the two pages on only one page, it would be two pages, four sides, 20 copies of each, I would need to sort out and redo. Damn you Officemax clerk!
So now it's almost 1:00 a.m. My printer broke repeatedly in trying to make 20 copies of two pages, printing on both sides. In the end, the printer failed and I could only make 8 complete books up. Officemax, you're getting a visit from me tomorrow! Prepare yourselves! And, you better have my originals ready!
My guess is the woman didn't give me back the originals because she realized her mistake in the end, and knew I'd figure it out quicker if I had the originals. But how awful for me. Do I want her fired? Right now, YES!!!!
See, yesterday, I reached into a full sink for a dish and instead, sliced my thumb right on the edge of the nail on a kitchen knife submerged in the water. I bled and bled and now, that cut edge sticks out and catches on everything and it hurts when that happens. It hurts to be typing. And that's not even all. I re-sprained my right index finger. It hurts to move it even slightly. Typing is hurting. I must love pain!
So trying to redo these messed up pages so I'll have something to sell at the swap meet I should have opted out for lack of goods, isn't making me cheerful.
OfficeMax, you better have candy and flowers waiting for me when I arrive tomorrow, to straighten out this big fat old mess. Next time, I will do it myself, have to be on the public machine, because my poor printer is busted!
I have been able to fix it, however, at least three times in the course of this evening and night, in trying to pump out a few of these books despite Officemax.
So there's hope that in a couple days, when my thumb and finger start healing, when I catch on sleep, when I have no more nightmares of Officemax or rather, what I might like to do to Officemax, I bet I can fix it again. Right now, forget about it. I'm going to bed.
Well, not! My stomach started acting up. I also pulled a muscle in my back. See, I set up the tables and canopy inside my garage, which in itself was not bright, since there's barely any room in the one car stall, to arrange everything, and lifting things, like cinder blocks to move out of the way, and catching the canopy cause gosh dang it, it kept falling over this way or that, I puled something down my back, too. So I've got them thumb thing, the finger thing, the back thing and now my stomach too.
My stomach thing is from eating a little too much fiber possibly. I like squash and my garden is still producing copious amounts of that. I like bush beans and I'm still eating those out of my garden. And every day for lunch I pick a bunch of cherry tomatoes off the vine and eat them. Then I"ve been eating blueberries and cantaloupe on top of that. Yup.
I've also had two pair of jeans give up the ghost in the last two weeks with the pair I'm wearing today, needing to head to the trash, because the material on the legs is so thread bare I can stick my finger through them. The first pair split up the back on one side, just worn out. The second pair frayed up the side seam too badly to repair and now this pair.
I really got excited about the swap meet table. I knew they said in the paper there isn't much traffic yet at it. I like interacting with the public. I like selling things, too. But doesn't work if you have nothing to sell. I got no junk really. I thought I could come up with enough, to do it every week, but I can't see how I'll find product to sell, when I have moved enough in my days to not want extra baggage around, in the form of stuff I don't use, in case I have to pack and move again.
A swap meet is just a flea market which is just a gathering of garage sales.
I form no bonds with stuff. I could leave everything here I have and feel no sorrow at all. In fact, the less I have the freer I feel. Except I love the cats of course. Speaking of whom, I bathed more kittens this morning. They don't like the bath so much, but they LOVE the blow dry job afterwards. Peko especially. He's healing up. Machi has one spot but doesn't seem to be spreading.
I'm concerned Miss Daisy might be getting it on her nose. Hard to tell because she gets a redness above her nose if she has congestion at all, with her chronic herpes, from licking drainage. She's really defensive about any sort of medicating at all, as bad as Shady, the drama queen extraordinaire! If I want to put drops in Shady's eyes, because she too has chronic herpes, coming from that awful colony where all the cats had it, she knows somehow, even if I hide the bottle from her sight. She starts in screaming like she's being tortured then, before she can even see the bottle.
Ringworm I swear hits the lighter colored cats easier, the Norwegian descent cats, hahaha. I told Miss Daisy tonight, "You're getting it, aren't ya, and that's because you're Norwegian." She is, you know. I can tell. Peko and Machi are both light colored cats too.
I had no stuff to sell. I have nothing that's worth anything here. I didn't let that stop me from signing up. I can be very short sighted.
Last minute, I round a few things up. The neighbor gave me some books and a few other things headed otherwise for Goodwill. I had a few unwanted things. I made a few cat toys, then decided to crank up my old hard drive, that sometimes works, to yank off the Publisher file that holds the Christmas story chapbook I wrote a few years back. I was going to print it up and see if I could sell a few copies.
My latest hard drive won't handle or convert the file since it does not have Publisher, any version, on it, just Word, that's it. I ended up having to connect up the monitor, then mouse and keyboard, to that old hard drive. Back and forth, back and forth, because I have only one mouse and one keyboard. The exclusion room I built to keep the cats away from my computer is tiny.
My life is an assemblage of broken parts. That includea my body and most of my possessions. I'm always trying to fix something, keep it going a little bit longer.
For instance, I like having my windows down when I drive. I love the feel of the wind. But, due to that broken switch, that sometimes works, sometimes doesn't, I had some trouble when I even arrived at OfficeMax. I parked and the switch was in a non working mode. I couldn't roll up the window. I took it apart. AGAIN! Right there, using the screwdrive I keep handy, and manuelly manipulated the lever. It was a go, and I could roll up the window. I left it all apart hanging by the wires to go into the store. I'm fed up with the darn switch.
I print up one copy of the pages plus all the cover pages, because they have color on them, then head to OfficeMax with the nine double sided pages to copy them there. I fumble around and finally ask the copy area clerk's help. She asks how many pages I have, then says she could do the double sided 9 pages cheaper if she did it, instead of if I did so, on the public machine there. She'll even have the machine collate. "Great," I say.
I bring them home and am about to assemble, when I realize something is very very wrong.
There are only 8 double sided pages. There should be nine. They charged me for 20 copies of each page, but did not return my originals. I was mad to discover all these mistakes. But that was only the beginning. She hadn't just not copied one page. One page she had copied, both sides, 20 times, included parts of that page and the missing page. OMG!!!! Took me forever to figure it out because I didn't number the book pages. I will never make that mistake again.
Because of the jumbling of 2 pages by the clerk (or the machine she used), with print on both sides, printing one side of each of the two pages on only one page, it would be two pages, four sides, 20 copies of each, I would need to sort out and redo. Damn you Officemax clerk!
So now it's almost 1:00 a.m. My printer broke repeatedly in trying to make 20 copies of two pages, printing on both sides. In the end, the printer failed and I could only make 8 complete books up. Officemax, you're getting a visit from me tomorrow! Prepare yourselves! And, you better have my originals ready!
My guess is the woman didn't give me back the originals because she realized her mistake in the end, and knew I'd figure it out quicker if I had the originals. But how awful for me. Do I want her fired? Right now, YES!!!!
See, yesterday, I reached into a full sink for a dish and instead, sliced my thumb right on the edge of the nail on a kitchen knife submerged in the water. I bled and bled and now, that cut edge sticks out and catches on everything and it hurts when that happens. It hurts to be typing. And that's not even all. I re-sprained my right index finger. It hurts to move it even slightly. Typing is hurting. I must love pain!
So trying to redo these messed up pages so I'll have something to sell at the swap meet I should have opted out for lack of goods, isn't making me cheerful.
OfficeMax, you better have candy and flowers waiting for me when I arrive tomorrow, to straighten out this big fat old mess. Next time, I will do it myself, have to be on the public machine, because my poor printer is busted!
I have been able to fix it, however, at least three times in the course of this evening and night, in trying to pump out a few of these books despite Officemax.
So there's hope that in a couple days, when my thumb and finger start healing, when I catch on sleep, when I have no more nightmares of Officemax or rather, what I might like to do to Officemax, I bet I can fix it again. Right now, forget about it. I'm going to bed.
Well, not! My stomach started acting up. I also pulled a muscle in my back. See, I set up the tables and canopy inside my garage, which in itself was not bright, since there's barely any room in the one car stall, to arrange everything, and lifting things, like cinder blocks to move out of the way, and catching the canopy cause gosh dang it, it kept falling over this way or that, I puled something down my back, too. So I've got them thumb thing, the finger thing, the back thing and now my stomach too.
My stomach thing is from eating a little too much fiber possibly. I like squash and my garden is still producing copious amounts of that. I like bush beans and I'm still eating those out of my garden. And every day for lunch I pick a bunch of cherry tomatoes off the vine and eat them. Then I"ve been eating blueberries and cantaloupe on top of that. Yup.
I've also had two pair of jeans give up the ghost in the last two weeks with the pair I'm wearing today, needing to head to the trash, because the material on the legs is so thread bare I can stick my finger through them. The first pair split up the back on one side, just worn out. The second pair frayed up the side seam too badly to repair and now this pair.
I really got excited about the swap meet table. I knew they said in the paper there isn't much traffic yet at it. I like interacting with the public. I like selling things, too. But doesn't work if you have nothing to sell. I got no junk really. I thought I could come up with enough, to do it every week, but I can't see how I'll find product to sell, when I have moved enough in my days to not want extra baggage around, in the form of stuff I don't use, in case I have to pack and move again.
A swap meet is just a flea market which is just a gathering of garage sales.
I form no bonds with stuff. I could leave everything here I have and feel no sorrow at all. In fact, the less I have the freer I feel. Except I love the cats of course. Speaking of whom, I bathed more kittens this morning. They don't like the bath so much, but they LOVE the blow dry job afterwards. Peko especially. He's healing up. Machi has one spot but doesn't seem to be spreading.
I'm concerned Miss Daisy might be getting it on her nose. Hard to tell because she gets a redness above her nose if she has congestion at all, with her chronic herpes, from licking drainage. She's really defensive about any sort of medicating at all, as bad as Shady, the drama queen extraordinaire! If I want to put drops in Shady's eyes, because she too has chronic herpes, coming from that awful colony where all the cats had it, she knows somehow, even if I hide the bottle from her sight. She starts in screaming like she's being tortured then, before she can even see the bottle.
Ringworm I swear hits the lighter colored cats easier, the Norwegian descent cats, hahaha. I told Miss Daisy tonight, "You're getting it, aren't ya, and that's because you're Norwegian." She is, you know. I can tell. Peko and Machi are both light colored cats too.
Friday, September 03, 2010
Calls and E-mails
The only e-mails and calls I've received lately, about cats, have been people wanting me to take a bunch of cats. One from Sweet Home, two from Albany and one from Lebanon. I can't do that, of course. To take all the cats involved in just these situations, probably would have been close to 60 more cats. I try to encourage the caller to get involved, offer help getting the cats fixed immediately, but in none of these situations have the people contacting me actually wanted to do anything to help the cats themselves.
I wish I could help all these cats into safe places because the alternative for them is dire. But I can't.
I don't have money.
And I'm not superwoman.
I wish I could help all these cats into safe places because the alternative for them is dire. But I can't.
I don't have money.
And I'm not superwoman.
Thursday, September 02, 2010
Unsafe
The neighbor situation exploded tonight. A neighbor near me is piping mad about them parking all over the place. It's every night. I think she might have gone and told them off or something.
I came home, in the dark, and one of them, in a pickup, is backing up half on the sidewalk in front of my place, possibly to not be in front of the other neighbors' place. Then some other SUV, old, with bad exhaust, loud, has been coming and going, back and forth.
So I'm trying to go to bed, despite the noise of that one car coming and going, same thing, they're out in the pickup, two guys outside it, and when it leaves, they just stared into my bedroom. Very intimidating and scary stuff. The two of them stood, legs apart, about ten feet apart, like they were about to riddle the house in bullets. I don't have any experience in this sort of intimidation stuff. I did not know how to react.
Very scary. They were dressed like gangsters.
Then one of them, beer can in hand, starts yelling that he can even sleep on the sidewalk if he wants. I yell back to just go home, to leave me alone, and he yells more stuff. I yell I don't want a drunk outside my window, to go home.
He finally goes off, stands angry in the middle of the street, spits some beer, finally goes back to their place. It isn't safe here anymore. They came here and changed everything and it's scary. Very scary.
They move in here, with their zillion cars, into a cul de sac, where they can't park all those cars, and they behave like they are the only ones who matter and can do anything they want to other people's lives. It's really bad. It's not going to end well. I have a really really bad feeling.
Someone who used to live where they used to live thinks they're a group of people who caused multiple problems with the same behavior there. If it is the same people, the woman even has a nickname. If it is the same group, there, it was widely believed they were deep into drugs. I hope it is not the same people. There are more people being dropped off even at this, the wee hours of the morning.
I know this stuff goes on all over but I don't want it in my face. I'm old enough to be their mother, maybe their grandmother and who behaves like that? I know. Lots of people behave like that. They think nothing of it. I want to tell them, "do you know what you'll be like at 40, drinking like that now? You're wasting your lives."
But that's the mother in me.
The rest of me is scared to death of them.
I came home, in the dark, and one of them, in a pickup, is backing up half on the sidewalk in front of my place, possibly to not be in front of the other neighbors' place. Then some other SUV, old, with bad exhaust, loud, has been coming and going, back and forth.
So I'm trying to go to bed, despite the noise of that one car coming and going, same thing, they're out in the pickup, two guys outside it, and when it leaves, they just stared into my bedroom. Very intimidating and scary stuff. The two of them stood, legs apart, about ten feet apart, like they were about to riddle the house in bullets. I don't have any experience in this sort of intimidation stuff. I did not know how to react.
Very scary. They were dressed like gangsters.
Then one of them, beer can in hand, starts yelling that he can even sleep on the sidewalk if he wants. I yell back to just go home, to leave me alone, and he yells more stuff. I yell I don't want a drunk outside my window, to go home.
He finally goes off, stands angry in the middle of the street, spits some beer, finally goes back to their place. It isn't safe here anymore. They came here and changed everything and it's scary. Very scary.
They move in here, with their zillion cars, into a cul de sac, where they can't park all those cars, and they behave like they are the only ones who matter and can do anything they want to other people's lives. It's really bad. It's not going to end well. I have a really really bad feeling.
Someone who used to live where they used to live thinks they're a group of people who caused multiple problems with the same behavior there. If it is the same people, the woman even has a nickname. If it is the same group, there, it was widely believed they were deep into drugs. I hope it is not the same people. There are more people being dropped off even at this, the wee hours of the morning.
I know this stuff goes on all over but I don't want it in my face. I'm old enough to be their mother, maybe their grandmother and who behaves like that? I know. Lots of people behave like that. They think nothing of it. I want to tell them, "do you know what you'll be like at 40, drinking like that now? You're wasting your lives."
But that's the mother in me.
The rest of me is scared to death of them.
Nephew Heads for Haiti
My nephew graduated from the U of O. Afterwards, he could not find a job. Rather than sit on his butt, he signed on for a year long adventure, that starts in Haiti. It's with his church and he'll be doing anything he's told to do. His first Haiti stint lasts three months. He'll be sleeping on a cot in a hospital hallway.
I went to watch him fly off last night, with his parents, out of Eugene.
My nephew is already a world traveller. He went to school here and there, including in Europe and in Australia. He's been more places than I have ever been or could go if I started now and went every month to some place far away and new.
The difference is this time he'll be working and not necessarily in the best of areas. He took his toolbelt, a few extra changes of clothing, not many and then he took food, because he was warned there isn't much food in Haiti.
He will get $500 a month, plus somewhere to sleep, wash his clothes, and one meal a day. That really isn't that bad. Some might think so, but that's not much less than I get a month and more than many in America get per month, especially now.
In other news, another plant shuttered in Millersburg, leaving 70 more people without work. The plant makes a type of product from wood used primarily in house building or other building. Reason cited for closure is the low to nonexistent demand for products used to build anything. Nobodies building in other words.
There have been so many shuttered big businesses in Albany and Millersburg in the last year it's hard to keep track anymore. Still open: convenience stores, grocery stores, liquor stores, and clothing stores.
Wah Chang has scaled back but still employs and so does Frozen Foods, I think. So there are still some businesses going ok, at least.
But to hear of 70 more good wage jobs vanishing leaves a pit in my stomach, a queezy feeling that these closures cannot be ignored, that they are a canary dying and the death should be heeded, because worse things are coming our way.
I went to watch him fly off last night, with his parents, out of Eugene.
My nephew is already a world traveller. He went to school here and there, including in Europe and in Australia. He's been more places than I have ever been or could go if I started now and went every month to some place far away and new.
The difference is this time he'll be working and not necessarily in the best of areas. He took his toolbelt, a few extra changes of clothing, not many and then he took food, because he was warned there isn't much food in Haiti.
He will get $500 a month, plus somewhere to sleep, wash his clothes, and one meal a day. That really isn't that bad. Some might think so, but that's not much less than I get a month and more than many in America get per month, especially now.
In other news, another plant shuttered in Millersburg, leaving 70 more people without work. The plant makes a type of product from wood used primarily in house building or other building. Reason cited for closure is the low to nonexistent demand for products used to build anything. Nobodies building in other words.
There have been so many shuttered big businesses in Albany and Millersburg in the last year it's hard to keep track anymore. Still open: convenience stores, grocery stores, liquor stores, and clothing stores.
Wah Chang has scaled back but still employs and so does Frozen Foods, I think. So there are still some businesses going ok, at least.
But to hear of 70 more good wage jobs vanishing leaves a pit in my stomach, a queezy feeling that these closures cannot be ignored, that they are a canary dying and the death should be heeded, because worse things are coming our way.
Wednesday, September 01, 2010
Kitten Photo Updates
Beautiful Starry, from N. Albany.
Starry again.
Peko, with ringworm in tow.
Nemo, who likes my trendy trap bed.
Nemo took over the trap bed from Buffy. Before that, Gretal had dibs on the trap bed.
Machi, taken shortly after he was returned. He now has one spot of ringworm on his upper lip.
The athletic sisters Echo and Fantasia exhibit their superior athletic and acrobatic skills, to the envy of all the other kittens, at least for the length of kitten attention spans.
The sisters also fight, as all sisters do.
Fantasia now.
Echo now.Nemo has absolutely no signs of ringworm and neither do Starry, Echo or Fantasia. However, Machi has one tiny spot. Because of Peko getting a small spot, followed by Machi, the two kittens who were adopted out to that coast woman who returned them, after finding the one spot on Peko, I don't know what to do about adoptions. I can't guarantee any of them won't get it and won't be able to guarantee that ever. Kittens get things. We live in Oregon. Ringworm is one of those possibilities. I can't decide what to do. I don't want to jeopardize their lives by adopting them to someone who would freak out if one got a spot. Well, I'll just keep bathing them twice weekly. And see what happens I guess.
Hairy
Hairy is very ill with a severe URI. He is currently in a rabbit hutch in my garage. Poor fellow has gone through way too much. He was trapped by a woman out on Country Club Drive because he was fighting her cats for food. He is thin as thin can be.
I'm trying to figure out who he is and where he comes from. He was desperate for food, that's for sure, which earned him a trip to Heartland where his life would have ended had it not been for that eartip he sported.
He's been on his own, without anyone feeding him much of anything, for some time. I don't know of any colonies in that area. I've not trapped any cats in that area for ages on end. The last time I trapped anywhere near there was at a place just off 53rd, woman feeding strays, didn't even have her own cats fixed, lazy as sin, to boot. That was years ago.
I got a bunch fixed, then a cat hater moved into the neighborhood and they began arriving in traps at Heartland, including collared neighbor's owned cats, also targeted by resident area cat hater/control freak.
I used the opportunity to relocate those ferals but to nowhere around here. Too many predators. Otherwise, they would end up dead.
None were long hair black males. I checked my records.
However, I relocated a long hair black male from Division street, just a teenager then, to a rural residence before I found out about the insane noise that goes on around them, in the form of canal boat races, and they build the canals in a farm field just off I5, suck water out of local wells to fill them, then create the most hideious noise you could imagine for a weekend of high speed high noise boat racing. This rural dead road is occupied by only a handful of houses, but the field is owned by some farmer with pull who got permits to inflict this atrocity on the elderly neighbors. And their animals.
It would not surprise me if this cat is the 08 teen I relocated to that hideous rural location before I knew the truth of what goes on, on that road. I would not wish living there on a grasshopper now. The Division street apartment manager had gotten animal control to come start killing the cats (trapping, taking to Heartland) I had gotten fixed. Seven were taken there before I found out and redeemed the last two, both boys, before they were killed. Heartland called me on those two.
Some tenant fed them, and insisted Heartland doesn't kill ferals so it was great animal control was taking these cats, the direct result of her feeding unfixed strays, to Heartland. I told her to call them, ask them, they'll tell her, a feral taken there is a dead feral. I was frustrated by this woman for years. She would also feed raccoons on a second story fire escape, which is dangerous behavior.
Stranger things have occurred, if this cat here now is the Division street boy, who ultimately went to a rural home south of Tangent. How he got across the river, don't know, if it's him, but, like I said, stranger things have occurred.
But the more likely scenario is that this is a cat trapped and taken to be fixed at an FCCO clinic by someone living at nearby apartments who then up and moved leaving him and maybe others, to fend for themselves.
People do this every day. It's tragic and terrible for the cats. People do it to tame cats, to kittens and to ferals they've fed. They move and leave them.
It's wrong.
I'm trying to figure out who he is and where he comes from. He was desperate for food, that's for sure, which earned him a trip to Heartland where his life would have ended had it not been for that eartip he sported.
He's been on his own, without anyone feeding him much of anything, for some time. I don't know of any colonies in that area. I've not trapped any cats in that area for ages on end. The last time I trapped anywhere near there was at a place just off 53rd, woman feeding strays, didn't even have her own cats fixed, lazy as sin, to boot. That was years ago.
I got a bunch fixed, then a cat hater moved into the neighborhood and they began arriving in traps at Heartland, including collared neighbor's owned cats, also targeted by resident area cat hater/control freak.
I used the opportunity to relocate those ferals but to nowhere around here. Too many predators. Otherwise, they would end up dead.
None were long hair black males. I checked my records.
However, I relocated a long hair black male from Division street, just a teenager then, to a rural residence before I found out about the insane noise that goes on around them, in the form of canal boat races, and they build the canals in a farm field just off I5, suck water out of local wells to fill them, then create the most hideious noise you could imagine for a weekend of high speed high noise boat racing. This rural dead road is occupied by only a handful of houses, but the field is owned by some farmer with pull who got permits to inflict this atrocity on the elderly neighbors. And their animals.
It would not surprise me if this cat is the 08 teen I relocated to that hideous rural location before I knew the truth of what goes on, on that road. I would not wish living there on a grasshopper now. The Division street apartment manager had gotten animal control to come start killing the cats (trapping, taking to Heartland) I had gotten fixed. Seven were taken there before I found out and redeemed the last two, both boys, before they were killed. Heartland called me on those two.
Some tenant fed them, and insisted Heartland doesn't kill ferals so it was great animal control was taking these cats, the direct result of her feeding unfixed strays, to Heartland. I told her to call them, ask them, they'll tell her, a feral taken there is a dead feral. I was frustrated by this woman for years. She would also feed raccoons on a second story fire escape, which is dangerous behavior.
Stranger things have occurred, if this cat here now is the Division street boy, who ultimately went to a rural home south of Tangent. How he got across the river, don't know, if it's him, but, like I said, stranger things have occurred.
But the more likely scenario is that this is a cat trapped and taken to be fixed at an FCCO clinic by someone living at nearby apartments who then up and moved leaving him and maybe others, to fend for themselves.
People do this every day. It's tragic and terrible for the cats. People do it to tame cats, to kittens and to ferals they've fed. They move and leave them.
It's wrong.
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