Well, actually, it turns out that for some of us, prison is quite restful.
Apart from getting to the van pickup point, that is. The only problem with living over here on what is essentially the edge of civilization is that it's damned hard to get in and out without a taxi. Or at least it is early in the morning or on weekends. On Wednesday, I had to be at the northwest corner of 96th and Broadway at 5:42 am (oddly specific that, isn't it?). Well, the logical way to get there is to grab the M21 bus over to Varick and hop the subway...reasonably quick, and quite efficient. Unfortunately, the M21 bus doesn't start running until somewhere around 6 am...and I would have had to catch it at 4:30 am. Scratch that. OK, the next option is taking the M14D bus over to 14th, which would have ended me up at the subway just as easily. Except that the M14D bus stop is directly in front of a large housing project. Well, I yield to no one in my espousal of good liberal principles and the essential goodness of the common man...but I'm also equipped with a fair amount of street smarts, all of which sat up and yelled at the notion of a more than middle aged lady with a purse standing completely alone in front of a large housing project at 4:30 am. That's not liberal...that's friggin' stupid. And as it turned out, none of the above methods would have done me a goddamn bit of good anyway, since they were doing track work on the subways, and the train I needed wouldn't start running until 5. You'll be glad to know that I spent $24 on a cab.
So we had a lovely drive out to Bedford Hills, NY...I do like to get out in the country on occasion, as long as I know I'm not going to be, you know, STUCK there. We were decanted into a nice, sort of heated, dirt floored tent and fed. My boots may never recover from that dirt (and mud, here and there...it was spitting rain every now and then). And there we sat.
We had breakfast. Then we had lunch. Then finally we were taken over to the actual prison and put through an airport type screening, complete with shoe removal, and given a hand stamp, and let into the visitor's room. This was an open space, not one of those things you see in movies with the glass between the prisoners and visitors, because it's a minimum security prison. And then we interacted with our fellow background actors playing prisoners (I was a visitor) for an hour or so and were done by 3:30. I got about an hour and a half of overtime pay, but then again, it was still light when I got back in town. At our table, it was me and another gal, and a guy of about my own age who seems to have led a very sheltered existence, by the way. We were given a deck of cards and started playing a form of rummy, and I swear this guy had never seen a deck of cards in his life. Then the crew came and took half the deck away because they evidently hadn't brought enough decks, which really screwed up the card game. Ah, well.
Also, if this thrills anyone, I wass standing right next to Steven Soderbergh, whose movie this is, when I checked in at the prison. And Rooney Mara is quite a pretty girl, shorn of all those piercings. Channing Tatum looks like a small town garage mechanic...I don't see the allure AT ALL.
But this Tuesday! YAY! Back to my beloved Boardwalk! And this is going to be a REAL first for me...I am actually going to appear on camera without my teeth.
Yes, I wear a full set of dentures, and have for many years. I had perfectly lovely white teeth, but unfortunately they were of the same consistency as the chalk they resembled. I went through years of caps, and root canals, and damned expensive dentistry, until I finally found a dentist who said "This is ridiculous." So I had the whole mouth done, and it was the first time I'd been completely pain free in forever and a day. I've never regretted it.
So last week a call went out for Boardwalk for people with missing teeth. I jumped on it, of course, and Melissa from Grant Wilfley Casting called yesterday, seemingly quite confused about why I would agree to do this...to which my reaction was, "Um, I'm getting paid, right? You want people with missing teeth, right? Missing teeth I've got!" She was still confused. However, I'm going to be doing what sounds like a terrific scene...a VERY low class/dive bar in Chicago with a lot of toothless drunks hanging out in it. I can't wait. It sounds like so much fun.
I'm presuming we'll be out at Steiner Studios in Brooklyn, that being where most of the interior scenes are shot. I really am excited about this one. I can just see it...a whole career built on, "Get that great toothless broad!"
Love, Wendy
Friday, April 13, 2012
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Productive Is My Middle Name
Well, I am DAMN pleased with myself. I decided that I had to do four things today, and I actually got myself together and did ALL of them. Aren't I great?
I needed to do laundry (check), get my bills paid (check), sort out an appointment book (check), and get my taxes done (check!), and every single thing got done.
Sorting out the appointment book is because I waited too long to be able to find the kind I wanted (mainly because I wasn't doing much of anything that I needed to write down), and therefore nobody had any when I finally went to look for one. Thing is, I need the book for purposes of unemployment and employment. Unemployment always wants to know the last date you worked for somebody, and movie/TV stuff always has info I need to have with me...call times, what I'm wearing, emergency number for the agency in case I get stuck in traffic, and that sort of thing. So I really need a page a day type of book, but most of them are too big. Usually I can find them on the street at the beginning of the year, but as I say, this year I was too late. So I bought a small fat noteboook, which will do fine.
And as to taxes, I'm getting back every cent I paid out, to the tune of $671.87! This, of course, says absolutely nothing about my ability to earn money other than that it was pretty terrible last year. But then again, if I'd earned pots of money I would have had to pay pots of taxes. So there.
Meanwhile, for want of anything more intelligent to do, I wandered my way through the back of one of my old cookbooks, the part that has to do with desserts and stuff like that. I usually ignore this, because I'm not a dessert chef at ALL, and New York has about a million wonderful bakeries if I want to get all fancy for the end of a meal. So I was idly paging through the fruit section of my old Good Housekeeping cookbook (circa the early 60s...my, people used a lot of canned soup back then, didn't they?), and came across the following, which I'm putting here in its entirety because it's too wonderful to miss.
"Look around your house for anything that might hold dessert fruits. Let your imagination run wild! For instance, select a:
French horn
Basket, on its side
Huge brandy snifter
Old fashioned knife box
Punch bowl
Old brass coal scuttle
Wicker cornucopia
Lazy Susan
Cake stand
Gigantic wooden chopping or salad bowl
Brass tray
Mirror plateau
Brass log holder
Go shopping, and select the prettiest fruits in the market, not forgetting more unusual ones, like kumquats, persimmons, pomegranates, fresh cranberries. Include in your market basket a few of the out-of-season items you may be lucky enough to chance upon - strawberries, grapes, cherries. Now look over the selection of extras - dates, nuts, table raisins, dried apricots and prunes, etc. Stop at the florist's, too, and pick up some choice pine, hemlock, etc.
Then, when you have an hour or so, assemble scissors, knife, clay, etc., and fashion the fruit centerpiece which is to double as your dessert!"
OK, people, I have a lot of problems with this breezy little article. First of all, how many of us have a French horn lying around? Or an old brass coal scuttle or a brass log holder? And what the hell is a mirror plateau? And are you SURE you cleaned all the coal out of that coal scuttle? And the spit out of the French horn? And about those out-of-season fruits...they taste fairly lousy, usually. And what on earth are people supposed to do with fresh cranberries? You can't eat them raw...you'd never get your mouth unpuckered. And then you go and pick up your nice hemlock for decorative purposes. Um, hemlock is poisonous...if you dislike your guests THAT much, why are you having them to dinner? And THEN you're going to stick this stuff in clay? Tasty! "Why, yes, I'd love another of those clay-covered kumquats...and a little more hemlock!"
God bless all the wonderful New York bakeries, I say. None of which are going to feed me clay or hemlock with my dessert.
Love, Wendy
I needed to do laundry (check), get my bills paid (check), sort out an appointment book (check), and get my taxes done (check!), and every single thing got done.
Sorting out the appointment book is because I waited too long to be able to find the kind I wanted (mainly because I wasn't doing much of anything that I needed to write down), and therefore nobody had any when I finally went to look for one. Thing is, I need the book for purposes of unemployment and employment. Unemployment always wants to know the last date you worked for somebody, and movie/TV stuff always has info I need to have with me...call times, what I'm wearing, emergency number for the agency in case I get stuck in traffic, and that sort of thing. So I really need a page a day type of book, but most of them are too big. Usually I can find them on the street at the beginning of the year, but as I say, this year I was too late. So I bought a small fat noteboook, which will do fine.
And as to taxes, I'm getting back every cent I paid out, to the tune of $671.87! This, of course, says absolutely nothing about my ability to earn money other than that it was pretty terrible last year. But then again, if I'd earned pots of money I would have had to pay pots of taxes. So there.
Meanwhile, for want of anything more intelligent to do, I wandered my way through the back of one of my old cookbooks, the part that has to do with desserts and stuff like that. I usually ignore this, because I'm not a dessert chef at ALL, and New York has about a million wonderful bakeries if I want to get all fancy for the end of a meal. So I was idly paging through the fruit section of my old Good Housekeeping cookbook (circa the early 60s...my, people used a lot of canned soup back then, didn't they?), and came across the following, which I'm putting here in its entirety because it's too wonderful to miss.
"Look around your house for anything that might hold dessert fruits. Let your imagination run wild! For instance, select a:
French horn
Basket, on its side
Huge brandy snifter
Old fashioned knife box
Punch bowl
Old brass coal scuttle
Wicker cornucopia
Lazy Susan
Cake stand
Gigantic wooden chopping or salad bowl
Brass tray
Mirror plateau
Brass log holder
Go shopping, and select the prettiest fruits in the market, not forgetting more unusual ones, like kumquats, persimmons, pomegranates, fresh cranberries. Include in your market basket a few of the out-of-season items you may be lucky enough to chance upon - strawberries, grapes, cherries. Now look over the selection of extras - dates, nuts, table raisins, dried apricots and prunes, etc. Stop at the florist's, too, and pick up some choice pine, hemlock, etc.
Then, when you have an hour or so, assemble scissors, knife, clay, etc., and fashion the fruit centerpiece which is to double as your dessert!"
OK, people, I have a lot of problems with this breezy little article. First of all, how many of us have a French horn lying around? Or an old brass coal scuttle or a brass log holder? And what the hell is a mirror plateau? And are you SURE you cleaned all the coal out of that coal scuttle? And the spit out of the French horn? And about those out-of-season fruits...they taste fairly lousy, usually. And what on earth are people supposed to do with fresh cranberries? You can't eat them raw...you'd never get your mouth unpuckered. And then you go and pick up your nice hemlock for decorative purposes. Um, hemlock is poisonous...if you dislike your guests THAT much, why are you having them to dinner? And THEN you're going to stick this stuff in clay? Tasty! "Why, yes, I'd love another of those clay-covered kumquats...and a little more hemlock!"
God bless all the wonderful New York bakeries, I say. None of which are going to feed me clay or hemlock with my dessert.
Love, Wendy
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Jailed!
Gotcha! Relax...it's only in the movies, gang. I got a call from Grant Wilfley to spend April 11th in Bedford Hills, New York at the prison there for a movie called The Bitter Pill. I'm going to be a prison visitor, as far as I know...it would be more fun to be an inmate (only in the movies!), but frankly, an orange jumpsuit isn't my best look. On the other hand, it might open up a whole new range of jobs for me. I noticed when I went back to the email they sent me that nobody had mentioned what I was supposed to be wearing, and when I emailed back to ask, Melanie told me that they'd let me know when I called in the night before. This is the way you do this background stuff...you get a heads up to keep the date open and then you call them the night before to get your actual call times and directions to the set or the location of the van pickup. Which can get annoying as hell, because sometimes they don't know until quite late when you'll be needed the next day...it has to do with how many shots they were able to get in the day before, and if the shoot runs late, they just don't know. I've had calls for Boardwalk when you didn't get the info until 2 in the morning.
However, not knowing what I'm supposed to wear until the day before is annoying, since I'm supposed to call in after 8:30 pm. This makes things a bit impossible if they want something I don't have in my closet. Luckily, all movie sets have at least a small selection of costumes in case they decide they don't like what you're wearing, so I don't think there'll be a problem. I'll just make sure I've got a representative selection of clothes clean and ready to go. Jeans and a top, and nice slacks and a nicer top should do it, if they want me to be a visitor...I've noticed in the occasional news pictures you see of families arriving for prison visits, they tend to dress up just a bit. Makes sense...if you only get to see your incarcerated husband once a month, you'd want to look decent, wouldn't you?
My birthday was fun, in a low key sort of way. I met up with my friend Philippe at the Bistro, and he bought me a couple of beers, and then he left and Caesar appeared with our friends Dee-El and Mary about five minutes later and bought me drinks and gave me a lift home. So that was nice, and I didn't end up sitting at home being depressed. Eventually I'll get my big blowout birthday dinner at my favorite shabby little French joint...I can wait.
Meanwhile, I'm excited about the prison gig, not least because it's a fairly longish ride out into the country. I so rarely go somewhere that doesn't involve an airplane that I think long rides in the country are great fun, and such a novelty. Also, an hour's ride out and an hour's ride back go into my paycheck, which shouldn't be sneezed at.
Oh, and on a professional note, SAG (Screen Actors Guild) and AFTRA (American Federation of Radio and Television Artists) have FINALLY merged! This means more work for everybody...yay!
Love, Wendy
However, not knowing what I'm supposed to wear until the day before is annoying, since I'm supposed to call in after 8:30 pm. This makes things a bit impossible if they want something I don't have in my closet. Luckily, all movie sets have at least a small selection of costumes in case they decide they don't like what you're wearing, so I don't think there'll be a problem. I'll just make sure I've got a representative selection of clothes clean and ready to go. Jeans and a top, and nice slacks and a nicer top should do it, if they want me to be a visitor...I've noticed in the occasional news pictures you see of families arriving for prison visits, they tend to dress up just a bit. Makes sense...if you only get to see your incarcerated husband once a month, you'd want to look decent, wouldn't you?
My birthday was fun, in a low key sort of way. I met up with my friend Philippe at the Bistro, and he bought me a couple of beers, and then he left and Caesar appeared with our friends Dee-El and Mary about five minutes later and bought me drinks and gave me a lift home. So that was nice, and I didn't end up sitting at home being depressed. Eventually I'll get my big blowout birthday dinner at my favorite shabby little French joint...I can wait.
Meanwhile, I'm excited about the prison gig, not least because it's a fairly longish ride out into the country. I so rarely go somewhere that doesn't involve an airplane that I think long rides in the country are great fun, and such a novelty. Also, an hour's ride out and an hour's ride back go into my paycheck, which shouldn't be sneezed at.
Oh, and on a professional note, SAG (Screen Actors Guild) and AFTRA (American Federation of Radio and Television Artists) have FINALLY merged! This means more work for everybody...yay!
Love, Wendy
Friday, March 30, 2012
A Dull Stretch
I have discovered why I no longer work nine to five...I HATE it. I got stuck last week with my ambulance chaser for FOUR DAMN DAYS. Nearly killed me. Actually, nearly killed HIM...I finally turned on him (politely, I may add) and told him that if he didn't stop interrupting what I was doing, the work would NOT get done, I would completely lose track, and he would NOT have his nice closing last Friday. Well, come on, I didn't raise my voice...I merely stated the facts. That counts as politely in my book. I didn't even tell him to fuck off and get the hell out of my way. See? A perfect lady, as always. He turned an interesting sort of very pale shade and slunk off to bury himself in some files at the back of his office and left me to get on with it...on my own terms. So there.
But four days is WAY too much.
This week has been much better...I only got stuck with it one day, which suits me fine, even if the exchequer is the poorer for it. My Social Security was three days late, so I was glad of the work, at least.
And my birthday is tomorrow! I really CANNOT get my mind around 67 at all. It just seems so strange that I could be this old and still feel so young...and welcome to today's cliche corner, girls and boys! I think I'll do what I usually do with birthdays...enjoy the occasion and forget the age.
Although there seems to be some confusion about my actual birthday party this year. Sarah always collects the guests and we all go out to dinner at my favorite restaurant in the world, my shabby little French joint uptown. However, this year Sarah has had ructions. Her roommate, the one whose name was on the lease at her apaartment, decided to move in with her boyfriend and gave Sarah two weeks to find a new place and move, since she was giving up the apartment. (Yet another person who just came off my Christmas card list.) So in order to save the apartment, Sarah had to get a guarantor for the new lease...and our trustee didn't want her to take the lease on. Therefore, the last couple of weeks have been punctuated by Sarah wailing madly and announcing that her cat was going to live with me (which would NOT have been a great idea...I don't think my two would have been madly thrilled with this). Then Sarah was going to move in with me...another bad idea. Not that I don't love living with her, because she's a great companion and all around good person, but if she's living in Brooklyn, I don't worry about her. This makes no sense whatsoever, because she's still coming home at weird hours in weird neighborhoods, but it's different when you're trying to sleep and waiting for the key in the door...which could be 6 am. And not alone. I would think her entirely strange if she DIDN'T have a nice bouncy sex life at the age of 27, but I don't necessarily want her to have it in my living room. This is, after all, a one bedroom apartment. And suppose I get lucky? (This is admittedly wishful thinking on my part, but you never know...I bought a ticket for the big lottery drawing tonight, too.) Introductions over the breakfast table could get just a teeny bit messy.
All is well, however...the gal who owns the bar where Sarah does karaoke agreed to go guarantor for her (she's DEFINITELY on my Christmas card list, and I may put her down for a nice fruit basket, too), so disaster is averted and Sarah will stay in her own apartment. Large sighs of relief all around.
However, with all this going on, she really couldn't have been expected to worry about my birthday party (which I fully understand), so I have called my best friend Caesar and informed him that my birthday is tomorrow and he's going to take me out. And Sarah says we'll have my party, too...just a little late. Which is fine...nothing better than an extended birthday!
Meanwhile I am going to KILL Time Warner Cable...again. Or still. They have just sent me a notice from a collection agency announcing that I owe them $462.04. Well, I DON'T owe them $462.04. I owe them $200.00. As I have mentioned in these pages, I went around and around with them, and finally got them to acept the fact that I owed them the $200, and not anything more. They also confirmed on the phone that this was due tomorrow, March 31st. This collection agency notice is dated March 23rd. Would anybody like to explain this to me? They are going to get such an earful from me tomorrow...along, of course, with the $200, WHICH IS ALL I OWE THEM. Grrr.
So in honor of my birthday, I went out today to the good grocery store and spent $90. I now have a houseful of nice grownup food. Of course, the only problem with this is that it all has to be actually cooked. I have the makings for kielbasa and sauerkraut (yes, I know it's a low taste but I love it) and actual spaghetti sauce and all kinds of goodies. Then I schlepped it all home and neatly put it away...aren't I good?
Now I'm watching the first Star Wars movie, which I love (well, who doesn't?). Unfortunately it's on a channel called Spike, which has more commercials than movie. Oh, well...it's handy for going to the john, anyway.
Love, Wendy
But four days is WAY too much.
This week has been much better...I only got stuck with it one day, which suits me fine, even if the exchequer is the poorer for it. My Social Security was three days late, so I was glad of the work, at least.
And my birthday is tomorrow! I really CANNOT get my mind around 67 at all. It just seems so strange that I could be this old and still feel so young...and welcome to today's cliche corner, girls and boys! I think I'll do what I usually do with birthdays...enjoy the occasion and forget the age.
Although there seems to be some confusion about my actual birthday party this year. Sarah always collects the guests and we all go out to dinner at my favorite restaurant in the world, my shabby little French joint uptown. However, this year Sarah has had ructions. Her roommate, the one whose name was on the lease at her apaartment, decided to move in with her boyfriend and gave Sarah two weeks to find a new place and move, since she was giving up the apartment. (Yet another person who just came off my Christmas card list.) So in order to save the apartment, Sarah had to get a guarantor for the new lease...and our trustee didn't want her to take the lease on. Therefore, the last couple of weeks have been punctuated by Sarah wailing madly and announcing that her cat was going to live with me (which would NOT have been a great idea...I don't think my two would have been madly thrilled with this). Then Sarah was going to move in with me...another bad idea. Not that I don't love living with her, because she's a great companion and all around good person, but if she's living in Brooklyn, I don't worry about her. This makes no sense whatsoever, because she's still coming home at weird hours in weird neighborhoods, but it's different when you're trying to sleep and waiting for the key in the door...which could be 6 am. And not alone. I would think her entirely strange if she DIDN'T have a nice bouncy sex life at the age of 27, but I don't necessarily want her to have it in my living room. This is, after all, a one bedroom apartment. And suppose I get lucky? (This is admittedly wishful thinking on my part, but you never know...I bought a ticket for the big lottery drawing tonight, too.) Introductions over the breakfast table could get just a teeny bit messy.
All is well, however...the gal who owns the bar where Sarah does karaoke agreed to go guarantor for her (she's DEFINITELY on my Christmas card list, and I may put her down for a nice fruit basket, too), so disaster is averted and Sarah will stay in her own apartment. Large sighs of relief all around.
However, with all this going on, she really couldn't have been expected to worry about my birthday party (which I fully understand), so I have called my best friend Caesar and informed him that my birthday is tomorrow and he's going to take me out. And Sarah says we'll have my party, too...just a little late. Which is fine...nothing better than an extended birthday!
Meanwhile I am going to KILL Time Warner Cable...again. Or still. They have just sent me a notice from a collection agency announcing that I owe them $462.04. Well, I DON'T owe them $462.04. I owe them $200.00. As I have mentioned in these pages, I went around and around with them, and finally got them to acept the fact that I owed them the $200, and not anything more. They also confirmed on the phone that this was due tomorrow, March 31st. This collection agency notice is dated March 23rd. Would anybody like to explain this to me? They are going to get such an earful from me tomorrow...along, of course, with the $200, WHICH IS ALL I OWE THEM. Grrr.
So in honor of my birthday, I went out today to the good grocery store and spent $90. I now have a houseful of nice grownup food. Of course, the only problem with this is that it all has to be actually cooked. I have the makings for kielbasa and sauerkraut (yes, I know it's a low taste but I love it) and actual spaghetti sauce and all kinds of goodies. Then I schlepped it all home and neatly put it away...aren't I good?
Now I'm watching the first Star Wars movie, which I love (well, who doesn't?). Unfortunately it's on a channel called Spike, which has more commercials than movie. Oh, well...it's handy for going to the john, anyway.
Love, Wendy
Monday, March 19, 2012
Our Mayor Is An Idiot
Our beloved New York mayor, Mr. Bloomberg, has gone completely off his rocker...not that he was ever that firmly rooted on it to begin with.
He has decided that the time-honored New York habit of food purveyors and restaurants all over the five boroughs of this city of giving their leftover food to the homeless must stop, because the food donated can't be tested for fiber, cholesterol count, calories, and whatever the hell else.
THIS MAN IS INSANE AND SHOULD BE STOPPED.
The practice of donating food through places like City Harvest, among others, has been going on for years and has given enormous comfort to an enormous number of people. Our soup kitchens have long been suffering under inadequate funding, as have the pantries for the poor. So he decides to cut off an excellent source of nutrition.
Evidently, he thinks that if he can't get rid of the homeless any other way, he'll just starve them to death. I don't know about you, but if I hadn't eaten in a day or two, the LAST damn thing I'd be worried about would be my cholesterol count.
Love, Wendy
He has decided that the time-honored New York habit of food purveyors and restaurants all over the five boroughs of this city of giving their leftover food to the homeless must stop, because the food donated can't be tested for fiber, cholesterol count, calories, and whatever the hell else.
THIS MAN IS INSANE AND SHOULD BE STOPPED.
The practice of donating food through places like City Harvest, among others, has been going on for years and has given enormous comfort to an enormous number of people. Our soup kitchens have long been suffering under inadequate funding, as have the pantries for the poor. So he decides to cut off an excellent source of nutrition.
Evidently, he thinks that if he can't get rid of the homeless any other way, he'll just starve them to death. I don't know about you, but if I hadn't eaten in a day or two, the LAST damn thing I'd be worried about would be my cholesterol count.
Love, Wendy
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Saved By The Bell!
Well, isn't this nice. Just as I was sitting here worrying about how the hell I was going to get through until my Social Security, my nice ambulance chaser turned up with work for today and tomorrow and probably some next week too. I'm thrilled...bored as hell stuck in an office, but since the entertainment business is ignoring me at the top of its lungs, I might just as well be sitting around an office making SOME money.
Meanwhile, I'm going to KILL Time Warner Cable. I no longer have their service, because this building will only take FiOS or something called RCN, which I've never heard of, so I went with FiOS. I canceled my service with Time Warner in December, and finally gave the equipment back to them. When I did so, the guy who came to pick it up said to call the office to find out what I owed them.
Well, Time Warner doesn't, as far as I can figure out, know what ANYBODY owes them. First they said (over a month ago) that I owed them for the months of December, January and February. When I gently pointed out that I had canceled my service in early December, they said I still owed them some weird amount like $700. I explained AGAIN that I owed them nothing except the equipment rental, since I hadn't had their service in those months. Well, the final amount turned out to be something like $336.00, which sounds about right because their damn equipment fees are so high. So I promptly paid them $136.00, and told them I would pay the other $200 at the end of March (that good old Social Security check).
They have now called me four times this week, each time with a totally different amount I'm supposed to owe them. Each time (except the last one), I have explained the situation again and asked them to check their records and they will see what has been set up. Each time they promise to make a note of it. I don't know where the hell they're putting these notes they're supposedly making...on the back of an old envelope that they promptly throw out, evidently, since nobody who calls seems to have the slightest notion of what I'm talking about. I finally lost my temper tonight. I had already taken one call from them at the office this morning, and the minute I got home and sat down, guess who was on the phone AGAIN? This time I simply started screaming. And once again I was told oh, I see. Well, we'll mark youir file. One can only assume they're marking it in invisible ink.
Growl.
Love, Wendy
Meanwhile, I'm going to KILL Time Warner Cable. I no longer have their service, because this building will only take FiOS or something called RCN, which I've never heard of, so I went with FiOS. I canceled my service with Time Warner in December, and finally gave the equipment back to them. When I did so, the guy who came to pick it up said to call the office to find out what I owed them.
Well, Time Warner doesn't, as far as I can figure out, know what ANYBODY owes them. First they said (over a month ago) that I owed them for the months of December, January and February. When I gently pointed out that I had canceled my service in early December, they said I still owed them some weird amount like $700. I explained AGAIN that I owed them nothing except the equipment rental, since I hadn't had their service in those months. Well, the final amount turned out to be something like $336.00, which sounds about right because their damn equipment fees are so high. So I promptly paid them $136.00, and told them I would pay the other $200 at the end of March (that good old Social Security check).
They have now called me four times this week, each time with a totally different amount I'm supposed to owe them. Each time (except the last one), I have explained the situation again and asked them to check their records and they will see what has been set up. Each time they promise to make a note of it. I don't know where the hell they're putting these notes they're supposedly making...on the back of an old envelope that they promptly throw out, evidently, since nobody who calls seems to have the slightest notion of what I'm talking about. I finally lost my temper tonight. I had already taken one call from them at the office this morning, and the minute I got home and sat down, guess who was on the phone AGAIN? This time I simply started screaming. And once again I was told oh, I see. Well, we'll mark youir file. One can only assume they're marking it in invisible ink.
Growl.
Love, Wendy
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Spring Has Sprung!
Wow, what a day. I went out this afternoon with only a flannel shirt over a t-shirt...never let it be said that I'm not fashion forward here. I took the bus over to the big Whole Foods on the Bowery to visit the food, since nobody in their right mind would pay their prices anyway. I do the same thing at Dean and DeLuca...I just wander around and look at the stuff. Well, the displays are so pretty...and I like to dream about being the kind of person who'd actually pay $39.99 a pound for imported ham. Sheesh. If I want ham, I can bake a damn ham. Which, now that I think of it, I just may do. My problem is that I really hate that thin sliced deli ham. When I make a ham sandwich I want big slabs of the stuff, and really good bread and sweet butter and Dijon mustard...called a French ham sandwich in our family because that's the way they make them in France. (Duh.)
Then I wandered off down Elizabeth Street to admire all the expensive boutiques carrying clothing I would never wear in a million years, and checking out restaurant menus. The restaurants are WAY cheaper than the clothes, and I'm making mental notes for outdoor lunching when I get some money in hand...out of which I currently am. I did, however, have the good common sense to get back on my partial unemployment (on account of I'm partially unemployed), and that should start turning up the day after tomorrow or so. Which is an excellent idea, since what I've got will last me through until the day after tomorrow, but not any further.
I even cleaned the house a bit yesterday, and have discovered my ENTIRE kitchen counter, which is very big, now that it's not covered in plastic bags and books and stuff to be thrown out (trash type stuff like empty garbage bag cartons, not food trash...I'm sloppy, but I do manage to stay at least a step in front of the Health Department). And I did a fast wipe down in the bathroom.
Tomorrow I think I'll get to the taxes, which I'd like to get done before April 14. I hope I can get something back this year...I don't think I made that much money (hell, I KNOW I didn't).
Other than that, I managed to get out two nights at least...both times to Sarah's bar. Once was last week for an art show, where the artist paid for all the drinks (an excellent idea for the broke), and once last night, for an occasion that amused the hell out of me. It was the anniversary of the bar, and the start of its 13th year in business, so Carla, who owns the place, dubbed the party "A Bar Bar Mitzvah." Which I thought was great.
By the way, what in hell are all these Presidential candidates thinking? If at all? What is this insane insistence on making women the enemy? I swear, if they had their way, we'd all be wrapped up in burkas. And it fascinates me that any crime against women is, of course, their own fault because men can't control their urges when they see a woman's ankle or some damn thing. I don't know about you, but I'm damned if I'm voting for anyone who has that much trouble behaving like a normal human being. Do we really want a president who by his own admission feels like raping any woman in a short skirt? (We'll just not discuss the ones we've already HAD like that. At least they never held themselves up as saviors of the family unit, for God's sake.)
Love, Wendy
Then I wandered off down Elizabeth Street to admire all the expensive boutiques carrying clothing I would never wear in a million years, and checking out restaurant menus. The restaurants are WAY cheaper than the clothes, and I'm making mental notes for outdoor lunching when I get some money in hand...out of which I currently am. I did, however, have the good common sense to get back on my partial unemployment (on account of I'm partially unemployed), and that should start turning up the day after tomorrow or so. Which is an excellent idea, since what I've got will last me through until the day after tomorrow, but not any further.
I even cleaned the house a bit yesterday, and have discovered my ENTIRE kitchen counter, which is very big, now that it's not covered in plastic bags and books and stuff to be thrown out (trash type stuff like empty garbage bag cartons, not food trash...I'm sloppy, but I do manage to stay at least a step in front of the Health Department). And I did a fast wipe down in the bathroom.
Tomorrow I think I'll get to the taxes, which I'd like to get done before April 14. I hope I can get something back this year...I don't think I made that much money (hell, I KNOW I didn't).
Other than that, I managed to get out two nights at least...both times to Sarah's bar. Once was last week for an art show, where the artist paid for all the drinks (an excellent idea for the broke), and once last night, for an occasion that amused the hell out of me. It was the anniversary of the bar, and the start of its 13th year in business, so Carla, who owns the place, dubbed the party "A Bar Bar Mitzvah." Which I thought was great.
By the way, what in hell are all these Presidential candidates thinking? If at all? What is this insane insistence on making women the enemy? I swear, if they had their way, we'd all be wrapped up in burkas. And it fascinates me that any crime against women is, of course, their own fault because men can't control their urges when they see a woman's ankle or some damn thing. I don't know about you, but I'm damned if I'm voting for anyone who has that much trouble behaving like a normal human being. Do we really want a president who by his own admission feels like raping any woman in a short skirt? (We'll just not discuss the ones we've already HAD like that. At least they never held themselves up as saviors of the family unit, for God's sake.)
Love, Wendy
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