Makin' Us Proud

This is national news. I'm sure Jose Sanedoval's Momma is proud, he's certainly given the country something to talk about. Now when people think of Wisconsin they'll think of beer, cheese, and blow-up dolls?

Mr. Sanedoval is accused of stealing "dolls" from an adult store. Apparently he was being drunk and stupid, which I'm sure is the least of his problems.

A criminal complaint that has been filed in Dane County says Jose Sanedoval, age 26, of DeForest Wisconsin, smashed through the front door at Naughty Novelties last month. He took some dolls, various items, and the big prize- what a talking love doll of course-with a $270 price tag.

His "naughty" behavior was caught on video surveillance and the tape was turned over to investigators who got a look at the car outside store. They pulled Mr. Saneoveal over just ten days later. Perhaps if you like to steal ridiculous items from adult stores you should borrow the neighbors car. Especially if you don't like him.

The official complaint says Sandoval tried to deny committing the burglary, then he began blubbering like a baby and led the detectives to an abandoned semi behind a motel. The items were recovered and I'm sure the store is happy to have their inventory back. Unless of course it's opened, then not so much.

I really don't know which is worse. The fact that this man broke in to actually steal these things, the fact that such a thing as the "love doll" even exists, or that someone -somewhere-for any reason whatsover-would actually pay $27o for the thing. Can't you like get a Russian mail order bride for less? Heck, she'll talk to you for free and the best part is, you won't even be able to understand her when she's telling you you're a creepy loser.

Local news is a bit less interesting tonight. I got my tree up finally and I do declare it's decorated and ready to be knocked over.

Pictures to follow.

Customer Service in "America"

Has anyone else noticed that customer service isn’t really customer anymore? I might as well be dialing 1-800-Thick Indian Accent.

I realize everyone around the world deserves a good job which is lucky for them that more and more American companies are turning into cheap bastards. It’s so very kind of them to help our fellow global citizens by giving them our jobs at salaries as low as $2 a day. But do I really need to learn another language or get an interpreter to find out why my cell phone ring tones won’t work or why my bank statement says I’ve been charged $1087 for a money order? Call me a beeotch or racially insensitive but I really don’t like discussing my personal banking with someone that mostly has no clue what I’m saying and might not like me by the time the phone call is over.

The Husband surprised me by ordering a digital camera for me at buydig.com and it has been nothing but a hassle. First they didn't put the credit card info through right. Then we realized through our own investigation that the amount was over my check card limit. I didn’t want to deal with getting the bank to adjust the limit so I call and cancel the order to start over. By this time, the fun of being surprised with a fantabulous new camera was turning into frustration. Eventually my bank flags the card for possible fraud since they had screwed everything up by putting the wrong info through more then three times.

When I’m a big annoyed I can at times behave something like Carrie from King of Queens. It isn’t always pretty, but life I kept reminding myself that it wasn't an emergency. I called the company and apparently buydig.com has only two people working their "customer service" department. The first man was Indian. I couldn't understand a word he was saying. He kept saying 'yes' and 'good' a lot.

But how is it good? I don't understand you and you clearly don't understand me. It was quite close to my home life with three teenagers only probably a bit more annoying. At this point , I think it was easier to potty train four children than it was to understand one word he said. Does he mean yes or does he mean no? The husband works with Indians and he has introduced me to several of his Indian friends. Some have an interesting habit of saying yes and then shaking their no back and forth. Needless to say it's a bit confusing. Sort of like when people here give you the thumbs up to something when really they’re saying, “That’s great. I could care less!”At least when you can see the person you usually have the ability to dicipher sarcasm disguised as sincerity. I just didn't understand anything this nice guy is trying to tell me and I know he's just trying to do his job.

The phone call started off innocent enough with a pleasant hello. Then he mumbled something incoherent about an order number.

Me: It’s 123409, but I can't understand you very well. What do you need again?

Him: Badahbahdah-bahd-a-bahd-abah-help you?

Me: Um, I can't understand you. Did you get my order number?

Him: Yes, yes. Help you please?

Long and awkward silence

Me: So, um, can I talk to someone? I'm sorry, but I can't understand you.

Him: Yes, yes, yes. Yes, very good.

Me: So, are you transferring me?

Sound cliche? That's exactly how it went though.

Please is a word used very liberally in these phone calls, even if it seems to be used in a way that suggests the person has no idea what they're really saying. It just must make us feel better to hear please by a person that currently has access to some of our most personal and vital information, right?

Then every single phone call after that was with a pleasant woman I'll refer to as Vampire Girl. I kid you not; it was like I had stepped into the twilight zone where old actresses from cheesy vampire movies spend out their days working the customer service circuits of internet companies located in New Jersey.

"I vant to take your oooordawr numberrrrrr. Please."

I was beginning to feel that we were playing some sort of phone game I wasn't privy to. It was a bit surreal at the moment, but I had to laugh at it later. Laughing is something I do to keep from crying or acting like a crazy person.

One camera-ah ah ah.
Two CS agents- ah ah ah.
Three mistakes-ah ah ah
Four hours on the phone- ah ah ah
Five different phone calls- ah ah ah.
Absolutely zero customer service-ah ah ah

Wait von minute. Since when is buydig.com employing Transylvanian vampires? It wasn’t just like she was from that area, it was like she was trying to talk a vixen from a vampire movie. Her accent was insanely thick and the whole time I’m picturing Elvira with fangs on the other line. I worked hard on my gracefulness. I so wanted to ask her why I couldn't just talk to someone else. But she was holding my camera hostage and she had my credit card number, even if she didn’t know how to use it. Plus, I'm all out of silver bullets.

By this time it was later and I pondered whether it would sound really rude if I asked if she was the only one ever there. Like, is she in charge of the graveyard shift at the customer service desk or something? No pun intended.

I say this because every time I’d hang up to call my bank (who incidentally said every thing was okay on my end) I’d call back only to get HER on the line again.

Whispering past the phone, "Honey, it's vampire girl again. Don't they have anyone else working there? I just talked to her."

The poor lady had had no idea what she was doing and from her own omission there was no one else to help her figure it out. By the time I spoke to that same woman five times in one day I was beginning to think this was some fake company and perhaps this was my husband’s idea of a joke. I googled them just to make sure that The Husband didn’t give our credit card number to some Cracker Jack company. Buydig is for freal. They just have lame customer service. You'd think a worldwide company like that would have more then one person on duty to take calls.

All is well that ends well and after two days of nonsense my camera is supposedly on its way. I can't vait.

Dear Tom, shut up!

(Up until now, I've had no desire to blog about Tom Cruise. Before he was just an annoying celebrity, but now he's a total whack job)

Hey, Tom, I have never speculated, or cared about whether or not you are gay. I take no part in the paparazzi that hunts you down by not buying magazines about you. Why would I want to read that you're just as dysfunctional as I am, only richer.

I could have cared less if you divorced your insanely beautiful wife just before the legal cut off to avoid giving her %50 of your assets. It was a nasty thing to do, but none of my business.

Even when I saw you flip out on Oprah, and thought to myself-wow, I thought Scientologist's were against drugs-- whether legal or prescribed--so why has he been huffin' paint?-even so, I made no judgments about your obnoxious crack head behavior. Hey, if you're sprung over a girl young enough to be your daughter after stalking watching her in Batman Begins, that's your prerogative.

Even though you're a Scientologist, (which we all know is a crazy concept started by a man that admitted he wanted to create a religion that would make him rich) I don't care. I'm fairly tolerant of others beliefs. If you want to believe that 75 million years ago, some alien galactic ruler named Xenu who was supreme ruler of 76 over populated planets, that's your business. Even if you think Xenu audited all of them to pay taxes, with the plan of injecting them with alcohol & glycol until they were frozen, who am I to tell you how stupid and foolish that sounds?

OK, I'll admit, when Xenu then took all these frozen people and sent them off into space in ships that looked like airplanes with rocket engines, I started thinking you are one beer short of a 12 pack. Do alien gods drink beer? But again, to each their own.

I mean, I believe that Jesus is God's son. "God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever shall believe in Him, shall not perish, but have everlasting life," (Jn 3:16) I am a woman of faith, and I respect others beliefs. But aliens injecting tax delinquents and sending them off to earth as a punishment?

Now, that takes some faith. And a lot of brainwashing.

But when you, an actor, start acting like a know-it-all brain doctor, I have problems with you. Who are you to say, that people don't truly suffer from depression?

Who are you to say that there's no such thing as a chemical imbalance. (Hmm, doesn't being injected with alchohol and gycol until you're frozen and thumped into outerspace, account for something of an imbalance, hey?)

Who are you to say that ADHD doesn't exist? Come live in my house for 24 hours. Try and sit and help my intelligent, yet extremely distractable, disorganized, forgetful child, with their homework for five hours, only to see them go to school and forget to turn it in, because they forgot it was even in their backpack and tell me they just need vitamins.

Who are you to say that vitamins are a cure all and replacement for sanity saving medication? Who are you to say that all psychiatric drugs are evil and should never be taken? You KNOW that all prescriptions drugs are bad? Let's hope none of your kids ever need any. You might make them sweat their diabetes away.

There are about 13 to 14 million people suffering from a depressive disorder. Tell them it's a false reality. What should they do then? Wish it away? Go see one of your movies for a quick distraction? Or detox in a Scientology sweat room?

Oh, by the way, when you grow a vagina, squeeze out a little being with a head the size of a cantaloupe, sleep for only ten minutes at a time, go through a major hormonal overall in a matter of days, nurse a baby with cracked nipples, THEN you can comment on PPD. Is that happening anytime soon O' Tommy boy? I didn't think so...

But I guess you a good reason to be both stupid and a little crazy, you know, since you were injected with that odd chemical compound so you could be frozen and sent to earth to be punished as a cute, millionaire. That must have been rough. Well, at least for your subconcious, because I doubt you remember much of that trauma, being as though you're living the high life with millions of fans goo-goo-gaaing over your dimpled smile. Or was that your alien ancestor that suffered banishment? Or is that really us in an alternate reality? Confused Tom? I am. I think I need a turn in that sauna of yours.

I don't feel sorry for you though. Your fame, beautiful women and millions of dollars should help you cope, no? That's something your average depression sufferer doesn't have. Nor do most parents have your millions of dollars to get the finest doctors, specialists, behavioral therapies, brain spects and tutors. Too bad for them I guess. Especially if they can't afford vitamins either.

Hmm, maybe if Ron. L. Hubbard had sought helped for his obvious schizophrenic delusions people like you wouldn't be paying millions of dollars to a "religious" society whose basis is the redemption of all those spirits of frozen aliens that were just trying to pay their taxes abd got dumped to planet Earth as punishment.

Then they were forced to watch 3D movies that implanted a false reality (what we "earthlings" apparently live in today) and had to attached themselves to us. So, this would be the root cause of this false reality we live in? (eAnd YOU are talking down to others, about "drugs". Do you hear voices, Tom? See the virgin Mary in your cornflakes?)

Dude. Puhlease. Step away from the crack pipe. Who are you fooling here?

I've known friends and family with depression. I've suffered myself. I have two kids with ADHD. One with Tourette Syndrome. I know what it's like to see them struggle. I know all too well what it's like to have smart, talented, creative children barely get by in school because they can't stay focused, can't remember, organize anything, or absorb the knowledge they need to in order to move confidently from one educational concept to the next. Don't sit and tell me that we're being glib.

"Matt, Matt, you don't even — you're glib," Cruise responded. "You don't even know what Ritalin is. If you start talking about chemical imbalance, you have to evaluate and read the research papers on how they came up with these theories, Matt, OK. That's what I've done."

You say, "I know the history of psychiatry and you don't." Wow, Tom, do divulge this secret knowledge you have that we don't.

God forgive me, but you need to SHUT UP. Move on. Do what you do best. Make millions of dollars for playing make believe, charter your private jet so you can fly off to Paris, fill up on decadent delicacies, drive your fancy cars, and go to bed in your multi-million dollar house or $7,500 per night suites.

But leave neurology, medicine, parenting, and the business of Xenu God to those more qualified than yourself!

Oh and by the way, I still respect your right to believe what you will, even if I think it's a load of crap, but let me just say speaking as a Christian, there's NO way you can be a Scientologist and a Christian.

""Scientology is something that you don't understand. It's like you could be a Christian and be a Scientologist." What a load of crapola. You should just stop talking, unless your lines are scripted.

"It is a religion. Because it's dealing with the spirit. You as a spiritual being. It gives you tools you can use to apply to your life."

Uh, no. Being a Christian and a Scientologist is like being a human being and an alien spirit at the same time. Hello? It's impossible. Try that for false reality. Which spirit is Scientology dealing with anyways? Mine or the spirit of the alien attached to me from Xenu's planet?

Cause if you're talking beliefs, my God is the Creator of this universe and the Earth I dwell on is His Creation. He's the Alpha and Omega. The First and the Last. There is none before Him. There is no tyrant with a devious plan to handle over population by freezing the bodies of aliens, brainwashing their spirits into believing in some "false reality" on the Earth they were dumped on. I think playing make believe for a living is the source of YOUR "false reality" pretty boy.

If you want to to make more ignorant statements which include my faith, let's talk religion, Tom. I believe the only One to come to this Earth that can be considered "non human" is the Lord Jesus Christ Himself. Immanuel. God with us. He's both fully God and fully man. And the only spirit attaching itself to me is the Holy Spirit. I'll accept that reality any day over your gobbly gook.

This is America though, and I'm glad that you have the right to believe in nonsense. Not all my family or friends believes what I do. That's OK. You even have a right to preach your ridiculous theory about naughty alien life before mankind corrupting all earthlings religion. But you do not have a right to add to the shame and guilt that your fellow alien spirits, human beings suffering from depression, anxiety and neurological abnormalites endure. Do them all a favor and stick to your day job.

Don't worry though, I'll still see your movie, War of the Worlds, because Steven Spielberg is one fine director.

Now I'm off to take my vitamins, because I'm having violent visions of smacking you over the head with a frying pan.