November 25, 2009
L.A. Fitness is like Hotel California
I cancelled my gym membership at L.A. Fitness in September. My membership expired on 11/14. Yet today and last month, L.A. Fitness charged me for the Kid Klub. Someone explain to me why I would still have a Kid Klub membership when I'm not even a member at the club myself.
Mr. BBM saw the charge and called the gym, where some girl with barely two brain cells to rub together explained that it was perfectly reasonable for me to NOT have membership and STILL have a Kid Klub membership, despite the fact that you can't take kids in there for daycare purposes. You must always be on grounds. Yeah, because I totally drop my kids off at Germ Klub just so I can hang out in the lobby and watch people work out. That makes a whole lot of sense.
When Mr. BBM realized he was getting nowhere, he freaked out on the girl, and then called me to tell me about it. Half the time, those girls in the front don't even know their own names. They're certainly not going to be able to help with an actual problem. I told him he had talked to the wrong person.
So I decided I was done dealing with the local club about this issue. Last month, when they shouldn't have charged me, they said my Kid Klub membership would be cancelled. Now they're saying the same thing. I'm not feeling confident about it. They're refusing to refund my money. They also refused to give me my free month that they promised when I signed up. They also refused to freeze my club membership when I had knee surgery last January, saying that I had not given them a month's notice. I didn't even have a freaking month's notice that I was going to have the surgery.
So while Mr. BBM filed a dispute with the credit card company, I called the corporate office. I waited 20 minutes on the phone to speak with someone and then got disconnected.
Deep breath, swearing under the breath and desperate need for a heavy bag at this point.
I was done with games. So I did a little research online and found a Senior VP's name and phone number. I called him directly and left a voice mail on his line, not his secretary's line. I still haven't heard back.
Then I asked my recruiting manager to help me out further. Within seconds he had the number for the Regional VP for the East Coast. I called him and left a personal voice mail as well. You don't mess with people who've been in the recruiting business. We can find you anywhere. If I asked my manager, he could probably find the guy's private bathroom phone number.
Yet still nothing.
They have 3.5 hours to contact me and confirm that my membership is cancelled and that my charges will be refunded or else I'm launching an all out campaign. There are thousands of pissed off people online without the skills to get to the corporate people directly. I just might help them.
L.A. Fitness is like the freaking Hotel California. You can check out, but you can never leave.
I have totally had it.
Updated to add: 4:30 p.m on Wednesday. . . Issue resolved. Money credited. Sign of relief
November 22, 2009
Throw Away the Key
"I know what I did is wrong and it will never happen again," he said. "I messed around with a little girl and I shouldn't have done it. I only did it once a week on Thursdays when I was baby-sitting.
"But it wasn't every Thursday," he said. "I don't think the law is fair."
Taken from this article on the Reading Eagle dot com.
This quote is from a violent sexual predator who sexually assaulted a little girl for years. He served 5 months out of only a 23 month sentence and he's ticked off that new laws will require longer sentences and more strict supervision once predators are let out of prison.
Boo freaking hoo.
For the original article about what he did and his sentence, go here. She was five years old when it started and he claims she initiated. He says he's reformed. "But it wasn't every Thursday" shows me he's not. He's still minimizing what he, a 70-some year old man, did to a little girl. Here's his page on the PA Megan's Law website.
Then, as I'm doing a little research on his name and trying to find his Megan's Law page, I find this. This guy's in Florida, same name with a Jr. tacked onto the end and another assault against a minor. Is this just a strange coincidence or what?
This is exactly why violent sexual predators, especially those who assault children should be locked up forever. Throw away the keys.
And is it just me, or is a 5-month prison sentence for sexual assualting a child just a little light?
November 19, 2009
No Sympathy
Last week, I had a student miss both of my classes. Out with the swine flu, she kept in almost constant contact with me, updating me as to when she thought she'd be able to come back, asking questions about upcoming assignments and doing her best to avoid falling behind.
After getting the approval to come back to class, she sat in my class on Tuesday and looked awful. Her cough sounded even worse than she looked. I asked her if she was ok and she blurted out, "no." You could tell she felt lousy. She still showed up with a partial annotated bibliography in hand, just to make sure she was doing it correctly.
Last night, I got an email from her saying she had been sent to the hospital after Health Services listened to her lungs. She has pneumonia. I didn't expect to see her. We made arrangements via email for her to get her work done.
Today, she showed up at class. As I was walking in I saw her and stopped in my tracks. "What are you doing here? Are you feeling better?"
She looked awful. Once again, she blurted out, "no." She then went on to tell me that since she's no longer contagious, she couldn't get an excused absense from the university. So there she was at 7:55 a.m. ready to attend class.
I sent her back to her dorm to rest.
When I have students like this, so dedicated to their work and their grades, it makes it particularly difficult for me to have any sympathy for those who take regular "personal days." Those students should know that the day of reckoning is quickly approaching. Only three classes remain, and they are in serious trouble.
I am also in serious trouble in my fantasy leagues. If you'd like to read about it, go here.
November 18, 2009
Blogging Enemy Number 1 Sending Out the Good Karma
I'm not quite sure what it is about me, but my entire life, I have attracted crazies and "haters." Some weird girl tried to get me to join her religious cult on a Pittsburgh PAT bus one day, and for whatever reason, strange people tend to think I'm up for their crazy-talk.
Over the years, I've also been the target of online "haters," "trolls" and just plain jerks. One time a whole group of adolescent losers started insulting me and my blog. That drama went on for weeks. Every once in a while some crazy commenter crawls out of the woodwork and tells me off for no apparent reason too. It's usually something stupid and obscure like I say I dislike wearing the color orange or something. All of a sudden, someone who happens to love the color orange, who thinks they invented the color orange takes my post as a throw-down invitation and it's on. Weird.
I also seem to be targeted on these stupid ranking top list things. One time, someone hijacked my user name profile and put a not so nice nickname in there instead of my user name. Think of what a female porn star might say. I'll allow you to use your imagination. I think people purposely went in and gave me super low rankings too. Whenever there's a public ranking system that doesn't require someone to log in, everyone else soars (usually because I believe in good karma and rank other people high), and then my rating drops like a cement block in an ocean. There can't be that many people who think I suck that badly. I refuse to believe that. When the hijacking became too much, I gave up. I removed myself from the MA top list and told myself I didn't need the traffic or the drama.
I wouldn't take it so personally if I didn't invest so much time and effort into this blog. I love this blog. I am a self-taught blogger with no graphic design skills. I didn't even know what html was when I started. I was just a girl who wanted to write and thought that if I had an audience, I'd be more likely to stick to it and not put it on the back burner like the twenty or more manuscripts that live on my computer and get neglected on a daily basis. I can be serious, humorous, downright disgusting (ACL posts and pictures), but if there's one thing you can definitely say about my writing, it's that I'm honest. I write what I think and for that, I think I often get the backlash.
I find this difficult to understand, why people want to pick on a blogger they don't know who happens to have her black belt. Maybe it's internet muscles or something. Maybe it's because I'm a girl in a mostly boy-dominated niche, but whatever. I know my blog doesn't suck, and so I largely ignore it. And despite being stomped on by people who steal my content and then get mad at me when I call them on it, I continue to put good karma out there.
When bad things happen throughout the blog world, I pray for people, offer good thoughts and help however I can help. I didn't know little Maddie at all, but when another blogger I read mentioned the Spohr's and how they had lost their daughter, I read almost the entire blog, sobbing the entire time, before adding a comment in a sea of comments to say I would pray for them. And I did pray, a lot, because I couldn't imagine being in that situation. . .
Which is also why I want to draw your attention to another blogger tonight, Anissa. I don't know her and I've never met her, but the blog world apparently loves her and she's suffered a massive stroke just days before she was supposed to depart for the happiest place on Earth with some friends. I happened to end up on her blog the other day due to a Disney related search (we're going soon too), and then I started hearing horrible things. What she is going through right now is something I can't even imagine. What her family is going through is beyond comprehension. She has three kids; the youngest just beat leukemia. I mean, like she needed one more thing.
Then I started watching all these posts go up about her, buttons to donate to her family and I realized that the blog world really does rally around its own in times of trouble. And despite not knowing her, despite all the crap the blog world likes to throw at me sometimes, I'm going to continue to send out good karma. Please say a prayer for Anissa and her family tonight. Send the good thoughts and karma in her direction.
I strongly believe in the power of positive thinking which is why I've continued to write all these years, despite the porn nickname, the hijacked stuff, and the mean people. I believe in the good in people and I definitely believe that those of you who continue to read here, will send good thoughts to Anissa and her family tonight. Please do.
November 17, 2009
Fruit, Stale Chocolate and Total Crap-No Really
I knew it was going to be one of those days when Mr. BBM sprayed Big I's hair with detangler right onto my arm and in the direction of my bagel. The smell of that detangler in all its fruity-non-goodness makes me hold my breath each morning when I spritz Big I. I was already irritated.
But when Mr. BBM decided to make her look like a grease monkey by dousing her roots with at least six sprays of the stuff, I lost it. I can drum up all kinds of crap in my head if I want to. "He was trying to spray my bagel. He's trying to make her look horrible so that I will do her hair from now on" etc. etc.
The last straw was me stepping in a puddle of the spray that had accumulated on my just mopped tile floor. I felt like I was going to explode.
It was then that I spilled coffee down my pants and coat. I was already running two minutes late. There was no time to change.
I arrived on campus and thought my writing students needed a break from the research part of things. So, I did the chocolate activity I do each year. I torture them with a Hershey's Kiss on their desk in front of them and then make them spend an hour writing descriptive phrases to describe what it looks like, smells like, sounds like and finally, tastes like. Last year, all of my students were coming up with these amazing similies and metaphors. Their descriptions were amazing.
This year I asked them what it looked like and someone said "tin foil." I asked them what it smelled like and one of them said, "lotion." I piled on the drama and told them I was looking for a little more description and definitely more, you know, words. Then, two of my boys complained about me giving them "stale chocolate." You know, the stale chocolate I bought last week, the sealed bag that I just opened this morning that has an expiration date of May 2010. Ingrates.
My speech class arrived and it was the first day for group speeches. I had two students show up late for their speeches, as in one of his group members had to call him to remind him to show up because he was still sleeping. What do they expect me to do? Sit and wait for them to show up? I made a mental note to subtract points from the speeches, and/or scream and yell profusely.
After meeting with a student after class whose group is a nightmare, I was off to my next event, a meeting with another board member of the country club to discuss some ideas. We met for over two hours and came up with some great stuff. It's going to be a lot of work though.
I came home, grabbed Big I and Lil C and got right back in the car to go get Big I some racing swimsuits for swim team. I made a wrong turn on the way and it took us an extra 10 minutes to get there. Upon arriving at the store, which happens to be located in my old elementary school, I told the girls how I used to go there. When we entered the building, it was like deja vous. The swim shop was actually located in my 1st grade classroom, directly beside my 2nd grade classroom where the meanest teacher on the planet happened to live. Yes, live, I was convinced she lived there in the basement or something. She was that creepy and horrible.
I told the girls the story about how I had a terrible stomach virus in 2nd grade. I needed to go to the bathroom badly but my teacher wouldn't let me go. I had no choice. I ran out the door and I didn't make it in time. It was one of the most embarrassing days of my life and being there just brought it all back.
I guess I channeled it to Lil C, because after eating a ton of "jumping beans" for dinner, Lil C came tearing across the house from the playroom, heading for the bathroom. But she stopped short and grabbed the back of her pants. She too didn't make it in time. It was a two-parent job that involved one of us balancing her while she stood teetering on the edge on the toilet (with the same one of us dry-heaving repeatedly,-a-hem, that would be me). It was a complete nightmare. My stomach is still doing flips from it.
With the exception of a good meeting this afternoon, this day has been totally craptastic and I'm not anxious to repeat any of it, especially the last part.
And in case you're wondering, it's totally legit for a parent to talk about her daughter's "stomach mishaps" when she has also, in the same post, revealed her own.
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