Surpriiiiiise!

What is it they say about stripes and plaids? Happy birthday, Mr. Style. I'm so glad you've graduated to overalls.

But She Lived

Hailey informed me that she and Katie wrote a story this past summer titled But She Lived. I was immediately captivated by the title. Until I learned the plot, which is as follows:

First, Katie and Hailey dumped their mother into a hole full of porcupines. But she lived.

Then they dropped her out of a plane with evil, carniverous birds of some sort. But she lived.

Next they shoved their loving, beautiful mother into a vat full of pirahna. But she lived.

I'm beginning to fear for my life, so I'm posting it here. If I should die under mysterious circumstances...

I'm just sayin'.

My Pep Talk to Me

Are you sick of hearing about the economy, yet? Does it feel like everywhere you turn, there's another talking head, another politician, another piece of news warning us that we are dangerously close to another Great Depression? Even soft news about something like, say, skin care products contains a monetary twist: "Even in today's economy, it's important to use a moisturizer that contains sunscreen."

Normally I tune this stuff out. Carl and I are far (very, very far...like from-here-to-Pluto-far) from wealthy, but we live modestly in a small town where the cost of living is bearable. Around here you can purchase a three-bedroom, two-bathroom house on a lot larger than a postage stamp for under $100,000. Not a new house, of course, but still. I have my complaints about my water bill, but that's about it. Until lately.

It's the beginning of the month and the end of the previous quarter. Quarterly sales taxes are due and the usual bills fill my mailbox, as well as a few unusual ones (can you believe they are actually billing me for those ER visits I made in Colorado?). Carl and I awoke early this morning, brewed a pot of coffee and he paid personal bills while I entered the last of last month's invoices into the computer and prepared statements for our customers.

Car sales are down nearly 20% from last year and our receivables show it. We do most of our work for car dealerships and people don't need new cruise controls in their cars if they aren't buying new cars. On top of that, we don't sell necessities. When a person is trying to decide between being able to start his car from the house or being able to buy groceries for that same house, the decision is a simple one. We've been in this business for over twelve years now and have never had a down month until now. This is new to me.

Now that you know more than you wanted, I'll get to the point of my post. A list. I know that comes as a surprise, my making a list, but this is my way of gaining a sense of control over a somewhat out-of-my-control situation.

~What I Will NOT Do~

1. I will not begin arguing with my husband about money or pointing out every little mistake he made to get us in this situation.


2. I will not participate in retail therapy.


3. I will not bury my head in the sand.


4. I will not stop contributing to our IRAs.


5. I will not sign up for cable like I had hoped.

~What I WILL Do~

1. I will begin opening all of my mail every day (sounds like a no-brainer, huh? See number three above.)


2. I will cancel my land line telephone.


3. I will operate entirely from cash and cease using my credit card except for fuel (hey, I get a 3% discount, and with today's gas prices...).


4. I will begin cooking from scratch again, using beans. Lots and lots of cheap beans.


5. I will splurge for nicely scented candles to deal with the aftermath of number 4.


6. I will fix Carl's lunch with a smile on my face (maybe not the smile part).


7. I will learn how to ebay all the clutter sitting around my house.


8. I will begin planning a frugal Christmas NOW.

We are a long way from the poor house or bankruptcy court, but I need to feel like I can DO something, like I'm not some helpless little victim. For me, that begins with a list. My list is my pep talk.

Rah rah rah, An-ge-lah...

Navigational Nightmares

We recently purchased a GPS navigation system. I live in Podunk, USA and have zero need to know the exact latitude and longitude of my location and I rarely need to "merge" onto an Interstate or "exit" a highway (I just turn right or left). So why did we purchase this non-necessity? Carl is in the business of installing aftermarket automobile electronics like cruise controls, keyless entries and those thingys that let you start your car from your house ("remote starts"). We decided that GPS would be a nifty addition to our inventory.

The box containing my Sanyo EasyStreet sat below my printer for two weeks waiting for me to figure out how to program it or upload stuff to it or whatever. It was the "whatever" that kept me procrastinating. Finally I pulled it out of the box, identified the contents and loaded the CD manual onto my computer.

I'm one of those freaky people that reads the manual--the entire manual. I'm the Yin to Carl's Yang in that way. He never reads the manual and it drives me crazy. Anyhow, the more I read about my new little toy, the more excited I became. This thing had bluetooth capability, would allow me to download pictures and music AND would tell me, verbally, how to get from point A to point B. Cool. I still couldn't imagine needing the "navigation" part of my navigation system more than once a decade, but hey, it's like current cell phones which have become glorified cameras/Ipods rather than something with which a person places a call. Except for me. I can't seem to figure out my camera phone and usually end up taking a picture of my foot.

But I digress.

I uploaded the stuff from the second disc and decided to let her tell me how to get home from Hailey's grade school, which is clear across town. As I pulled out of the grade school drive Ms. GPS told me in her slightly snobby, upper-class alto voice, "In fifty yards, turn right." Wow. I could handle this. I turned right, after which she said, "In 275 yards, turn left." Pause until I drove 275 yards. "Turn left." She was prompt. This wasn't the route I would have taken, but I followed her instructions. I had to give the gal a chance. Maybe she knew something I didn't.

She didn't. As I neared my street she commanded, "In 275 yards turn left and arrive at your destination." Pause. "Turn left and you have arrived at your destination." She sounded positively proud, emphasizing those last few words as if welcoming me home. But I wasn't home. I was a block away, so I kept driving.

"Make a U-turn." Right, lady. You got it wrong this time. I turned her off and thought maybe the problem was my small town. Maybe she would work better on the open road or in the big city.

Wrong again. We drove to Wichita this weekend and decided to give her another chance. About ten years ago a highway was built between southeast Kansas and Wichita--a straight shot. For some reason Ms. GPS wanted us to drive about sixty miles north of that highway, travel westward on an obscure Kansas highway and take the turnpike into Wichita, a route that would have added an hour onto our trip and cost a few bucks in tolls. Are Sanyo and the Turnpike system in cahoots?

Every time we ignored her commands to turn, she would pause, then say in a slightly snobbier voice (I swear, she was snobbier), "Follow the course of the road...for a while."

The only time she worked perfectly was in the city. She knew exactly when and where we should turn, even when we came to the strange entrance onto I-235 from Central Ave. However, very few of our customers need nav in Wichita. I grew up in the area, so I certainly don't.

As if the gods were assisting me in determining my need for navigation, I caught this story on the morning news. I couldn't find video to embed here, so you can follow the link below or you can read the following excerpt from an online newspaper. Or both.

http://cosmos.bcst.yahoo.com/up/player/popup/index.php?cl=9976609

OAK LAWN — A Wisconsin man claims he was following his in-car navigational system when he drove onto railroad tracks in southwest suburban Oak Lawn and got stuck. The empty car was struck by a Metra train at 94th Street and Cicero Avenue before he could move it.

...Kaufmann said the 24-year-old driver was obeying his GPS system when he took a right turn onto the tracks and his car's undercarriage became lodged on the rail.

Come on people. Like the lady in the video says: If your friends GPS told you to jump off a cliff...