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Telemarketing to Telemarketers

We work from home. We get sales calls all the time for one thing or another. They never care that we’re working and that they are interrupting us.

Today Steve answered the phone to one…wanting to sell us an extended warranty on a car wehaven’t owned in awhile. Here’s what happened:

Steve: “OMG! I am so glad you called!”
SalesGuy: “Um, yeah? Me too!”
Steve: “I really think I’m going to be able to help you out today!”

And then he proceeded to give the guy a sales pitch on ExtraHelp.US, our web solution company. The guy kept trying to get a word in, but Steve kept on, telling him all the wonderful things we could do for their company, building them a customized database, a custom web design, logo creation, etc. Finally the guy said,

“Sir! I…this…well, I’m on my employer’s business line and I’m not supposed to talk about other business on it.”
Steve: “Oh, I’m sorry…it’s an inconvenient time for you?”
SalesGuy: “Yes, Sir.”
Steve: “And I bet it’s not something you need, since you didn’t ask me to call you.”
SalesGuy: “Um, well, no, Sir.”
Steve: “Huh. Now you know how I feel when guys like you call me for things I never requested while I’m trying to work.”
SalesGuy: “Uh…I…uh…I’ll take you off the list.”
Steve: “Thanks.” *click*

He said it was the most fun he’s had since he did this: Telemarketer 2005. I have to agree…it made me laugh.

Sleep Twister

Or…not so much sleep, but the game Twister instead…Bed Twister, maybe, but not like a porn film…well, not exactly.

I know you remember this game. The board, or plastic sheet actually, has big colored dots on it and the object was to put a body part on the colored dot and then other people did and…well, I don’t know who won, or how, or what the actual point was, but it was generally understood that there would be a mess of parts all over the floor. I imagine in today’s heightened sense of being offended at every damn thing, Twister has been outlawed.  I imagine some folks will be offended at my post. Too bad. Stop reading here if you are over sensitive.

So. I have a husband…and a cat. Both boys. And? My boys love me to bits. I have written about this before HERE…but some things need to be revisited.

So, if you look at the previous post, you will see our basic bed configuration and how we sleep. Only some things have changed and now it seems to be a game of Twister; one in which I am the board, and my body parts are the colored circles. Ansel has changed from lying on my tiny pillow, to curling up in front of my chest. And Steve is usually already in bed and sometimes asleep. Doesn’t matter. The game is the same. So, as soon as I get into bed, here’s what happens in the game:

Steve immediately turns towards me an tosses an arm over my waist. Soon after, the cat jumps up in front of me, and with much fanfare, purring, head-butting and nose kissing, situates himself in the crook of my armpit, as close to my chest as he can get and sits…then leans into me to curl himself ON me. If he cannot get his placement exactly the way he wants it, he will abort the whole thing and walk down to my feet and back up to my face to try again.

Once settled, he has both paws in the center of my chest, kneading. At this point, Steve usually has a handful of my chest, too. I am not sure what’s up with boys always having to hold them…like they might fall off and get lost in the covers in the night. They’ve always been pretty securely attached, but whatever.

Steve will readjust several times. Right hand back down to the waist. Left arm behind me, hand over my ear. I don’t know how that is possible, and since my back is to him in the dark, I may never know. Then it drops to my shoulder. So, the arm is behind my neck and the left hand is on my shoulder, while the right has me snugly around the waist, lest I try to leave. *eye roll* Or it might just have my hip. But it’s on me…somewhere.

Then the cat moves and his head is on my shoulder and his paws are on my head…and in a few minutes, with another big series of stretches, he tucks his head under my chin, both arms stretch across me and plops both paws also on my left shoulder. So, if you lost count, I now have 3 “hands” on my left shoulder, arms across my chest, a head under my chin, an arm behind my head and an arm around my waist. I’m not sure if the rules allow this, but that’s how the game is at my house. Did I mention?  They are both throwing about a gazillion BTU’s. Just saying.

Steve will generally turn over after about 15-20 minutes, due to a left shoulder that bothers him if he sleeps on it too long. Ansel will hold out longer, and then move up to his pillows and stretch out. THEN, I can move around and actually go to sleep…or you know, get up and blog about it.

Not complaining at all, but being loved is not always sunshine and roses. Sometimes it’s uncomfortable…and hot. Still, it is being loved. And even if I’m giggling to myself, cuz everyone else is playing the game in their sleep, it does make me giggle. And ANYTHING that makes you laugh is absolutely worth it.

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I swear, I used to have a blog…

I did!! I used to blog about all the funny stuff that happens to me on a daily basis. Seriously! Hilarious stuff! Like this and this and this! Which led to this! Funny stuff, right? And this is classic!

So what happened? Several things: 1. Well, we moved. I don’t know why this caused the demise of my blog, but it contributed. 2. I started caring. About who was reading, whether they would be angry about what I wrote. Whether they would stop reading. *sigh* 3. The big one. FACEBOOK & TWITTER. Everything I would have written several paragraphs about then…and sometimes more…I now pare down and stick them on Facebook and/or pare them down to 140 characters and “tweet” them.

The other thing that happened was a lot of political stuff that shook awake the very core beliefs I have, which I have never hidden, but never really blogged about, either. The firestorm that came from my first very honest political post was…*sigh* FRIGHTENING. And sad. So, I sort of just stopped.

I couldn’t put my fingers on my keyboard without wondering which of our ex’s might read that post, or who I might offend with that opinion, or really just thinking who cares, anyhow.

I found out the answer to the last one is pretty much no one. Which is kind of liberating. Not in the sense I’m going to become a liberal. I hate how they stole that word. Like I hate how the Gay community has stolen rainbows. And those are the short little things I post on FB. But I digress.

Maybe I should post my best comments here from FB and Twitter. Now that no one cares what I write…LOL

Whitney Houston – RIP

Wow. I am in shock. Such a wasted talent. Gorgeous, and so very memorable for those of us who were young during the 80′s. Tragic.

I had this on cassette tape…played it over and over. It was simply one of the best vocals on our national anthem ever performed. IMHO.


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Busy Bee Me

So, Cyndi’s been a busy lil bee. I haven’t discussed it much here, but a couple years ago my main POD (print on demand-where I house my designs for nice folks to buy them on mugs, shirts, etc) did an about face on their terms of service, leaving many of us with a 70-90% slash to our income. I was pretty depressed. It was like spending a long time in a marriage…all your eggs in one basket thing (I know, my bad) and it hurt. So much time spent…wasted, really…and no recourse but to start over somewhere else, with no guarantee the next POD wouldn’t get too big for their britches and hose me with ice water and steal my cookie jar again.

I recently just…somehow…got over it. Just like a real marriage break up…I woke up one day and…while I’m still PO’d and disappointed and wish it weren’t so…I can move on.

So, I have been busy redoing and adding lots of sites. They are all linked off of my main site CyndiDavis.com and eventually I will have a header with all of the links for folks to follow. Click over there and look on the right sidebar. It’s been really fun, and I am not stopping now. The sites feature my designs from various POD’s as well as those of my friends and other designers I like. As always, if you need a custom design for your group, an event or a special gift, let me know!

Dealing with Telemarketers

I am actually pretty easy going about telemarketers. I think they should get different jobs, obviously…but I guess if that’s all they are equipped to do, then, OK. But don’t keep calling me after I have asked to be taken off your list.

It has been going on for weeks. A number I can’t call back, because it shows up as “Name Withheld” with a phone number of 1-423-1, keeps calling me. I answer, they ask for me BY NAME, and tell me they want to send me the insurance quotes I have asked for and would I verify my mailing address. They HAVE my damn mailing address!! AND my name and phone number, obviously. I refuse to verify this, because I never ASKED for any “insurance quotes”. The first time they called I told the man no, I would not be verifying anything and please remove me from his list. He said he would. Lying @$$hole.

They call every day or so. I repeated my request 4 times and then stop answering. Then? I got pissed. They won’t stop calling!! A few days ago, this happened and I answered, I again, in a not very polite way, asked them to stop.calling.me. The guy hung up on me and I thought that was that. My DH laughed and reminded me of HIS answer to scamming telemarketers. I laughed too and told him if they called back, I would do the same thing.

They called back a couple days later while I was in the car driving. I picked up the phone and I looked at him, then said, “Get ready…” I answered the phone…the man called me by name…

And I screamed bloody murder as loud as I could for as long as I could. Then I hung up.

My DH and I laughed like lunatics for a full five minutes. I figured that would get me off the list. Apparently? It got me moved to somebody else’s list.

Today they called three times in a row. My DH and I were studying in our library. The first time, I looked at him and said, “Sorry…” then answered, listened for the guy to call me by name, then I screamed my head off. We laughed like loons when I hung up, cuz the cat does not understand my new way of answering the phone, and in fact had never heard a sound like that from me. He jumped four feet straight up from a soundly sleeping curl position, and shot himself like a bullet across the room, where he stared at me with eyes the size of saucers. Poor baby.

Then the guy called back!! I did it again. Shook my head, cuz…what an idiot. He must not realize…American women are pretty sturdy. We can scream loud, and a LOT. Maybe Indian women don’t do this. The third time sounded like a different person, and I pictured them passing the headset around…I screamed as loud as I have ever screamed with all my breath. Then my DH and I collapsed into hysteria as we have both worked in call center situations and knew how they must be flummoxed over this response.

They haven’t called back, yet. I kind of hope they do. First, it was kind of fun and relieved a LOT of stress. Sort of an excuse to behave badly. Second, I want a chance to TELL them up front that if they KEEP calling, I am GOING TO keep screaming. I never thought to do that before, and I want a chance to perfect my system. Third, it might be kind of fun to get their reaction to the upfront warning. Will they hang up on me first…or wait to see if I will follow through? Should be interesting. I will update when I have more.

Nature in my backyard…

OK, so, I cannot document my morning with a picture or a video, but it was awesome.

I was having coffee in the pool this morning…it’s one of my favorite things about summer in North Texas. I am actually liking the heat this year. Of course, not this week, when the heat index is 110F-115F. That’s just ridiculous. But the normal heat here…in the 90′s…well, I am tolerating it pretty well.

Ansel loves being out in the yard, though he’s all for just short trips when it’s as hot as the Devil’s sauna out there. He leaps after butterflies and moths, drinks out of the pool and lounges in the cool rocks under the Pampas grass or in the shade of the Banana plants. I have been worried about what he might do if he encounters a bee, since leaping on one is not a smart thing to do and a sting would not be a happy event. This morning as we were having a headbutting contest at the side of the pool, something caught his eye. I looked where he did, and saw a bee buzzing in the Phlox next to the pool. He watched it for a long moment, as I readied myself to grab him, and then he just…walked away. Good deal. Very smart kitty.

As stated in previous posts and on Flickr, we have done a lot of work in the back yard this year. Trying to create our own vacation spot in the convenience of our own yard. One of our shining achievements is the Hyacinth Bean vines we added along the fence. The vines are gorgeous, but the flowers are so unbelievably beautiful…and today?? While I sipped my latte’ in the pool and watched the sun rise over the fence…a hummingbird flew into the yard, and flitted from flower to flower in the Hyacinth Bean…then flew away.

Like I said, it…was…awesome.

My yard:

Sunrise in my backyard

A 3 minute smile

I don’t care how bad your day is going…if you have 3 minutes, you can find a smile. Right here:

You’d be hard pressed to find anything cuter. You know what…if you watch it twice? You might even find a chuckle.

Moderation…maybe?

Moderation is really a difficult thing to master.  Really.  Now, most days, I can do it…but the ones I don’t keep things under control…well, I just should.

I swam today, but the pool was cold, so not enough.  Before that…I ate waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too many sugarfree [SF] chocolate covered almonds and malted milk balls left over from going to the movie with my DH the other night.

Couple of things on this.  First, no, they do not have SF candy at the theater.  My DH is diabetic, so that’s what we buy…and it’s in my purse when I enter the theater.  If they provided it, I might consider buying it there, even at the ridiculously inflated prices…but they don’t.  Sue me.

Second, SF candy…especially the chocolates and gummy things…have sugar alcohols in them.  They are NOT calorie free, but they don’t respond in the body the same as sugar does, so diabetics can usually have them without a lot of impact on their blood sugar.  I don’t usually eat too many because they also tend to create a huge amount of gas when you eat more than, say, TWO pieces.  They taste…awesome. Like real chocolate.  But the after effects…O. M. G.

I have no idea why farts are so funny.  But they so are.  Even when you’re alone.  Or watching Craig Ferguson.  Doncha love how he says “farty”?  With an h.  And rolled r’s…like “Fahhhrrrty”.  But I digress.

DH took a nap, and I was in the kitchen, just rippin’ one after another…loud…I mean, reverberators.  Which, as ladylike as I am…I rarely do.  Heh.  But not smelly.  Men are really good at the stinky ones.  Really good.  THOSE are not funny unless they’re yours.

So, I couldn’t help it, I decided to just get it out.  Better out than in, is what I have always heard, right?  But then I got laughing.  The cat looked at me after one of the more offensively booming ones, and the expression on his face just sent me into a giggle fit.  Of course, when you’re full of air it’s sort of a lather/rinse/repeat phenomenon. Gas/giggle/gas/giggle/gas/giggle/gas…

I have finally caught my breath, and I still cannot for the life of my figure out why they are so funny.  And yet…the laughing felt pretty darn good.  Maybe good enough to have just another piece or two…and let the good times roll.

Addendum: DH is now awake and I am still um, airing out. At the first sound he looked at me with shock and said “Holy Criminy! WHAT was THAT?”

I smiled and said, “That was me letting all the other men on earth know that I am taken.”

Yes, Virginia, there are slugs in the yard.

Well, we have been very domesticated this year.  We started just after the New Year, by redoing the fireplace…which led to redoing the whole family room.

Then spring came.  We knew we would not have time or money to travel this year, again…so we decided to bring the vacation to us.  We’re spending a lot of time fixing the backyard up so it looks sort of tropical.  Banana trees, flowers, reed fencing.  We planted something called “Hyacinth Bean“, which is a vine, and has huge heart shaped leaves.  Really pretty…but Steve started noticing little holes in the leaves…then they appeared in the Canna lillies.

I asked my very smart friend Zoe…cuz she knows everything about everything. Seriously.  She remembered reading something on Mir’s blog about something similar.  Well, I pink puffy heart Mir, cuz she makes me LOL for real, even about stuff that makes me want to hurl.

So, I sing Hallelujah…not really, cuz even God doesn’t want to hear that…but in my head, angels were singing.
I tell the DH,

“I know what’s making holes in the plants.”

“Yeah? What?”

“Slugs.”

“There are no slugs out there. There are NO slugs. They leave shiny slime paths. I have seen no paths.”

“Yup. Mir said so.  We’re gonna kill ‘em with beer.”

“Huh?”

“I’ma get some little containers and some cheap beer and get ‘em drunk. They can’t swim.  I think cuz they have no arms. Anyway. So. Then they drown.”

“All you’re gonna do is waste beer.”

“But, it’ll be cheap beer.”

“Still. A waste.”

“OK. Here’s the deal. If I’m wrong…you get to say so. Out loud.  If I’m right…and I will be…you have to clean up the dead slugs.”

So last night I got little plastic containers at Lowe’s for 38 cents each.  I forgot the cheap beer, but I had some MGD 64 which I figured is cheap enough.  I put the little bowls in the areas of most leaf carnage and filled them up with beer. I heard DH sigh as I came back inside.

“It’s not gonna work, you know.”

“Nothing for you to clean up in the morning then, huh?”

I gotta tell you, there was NO way I was going out there in the night with a flashlight to check on them, cuz Mir’s description squicked me to my core.  I did however, jump up and run out there as soon as I was awake enough to remember I was on a slug hunt.  And?

EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! Are you FREAKING KIDDING ME?!?  EW! EW! And freaking EW!

I handed DH the garbage can and a plastic fork.  Then, I went in the house to figure out how to get the queeze outta my stomach.

So.  Lessons learned:

1. Mir was right.

2. Zoe was right.

3. I was right.

4. Slugs are freaking gross…and stupid…and can’t swim…and they’re alcoholics.

Meanwhile, I think the DH has a cramp in his jaw, cuz he hasn’t said a word all morning. Hmmm.