RVmamma has moved to SassyCityGirl.com

Formerly known as RVmamma.com,  I changed my moniker to SassyCityGirl to reflect a change in focus and direction, which means less focus on travel and more on humor.  Everyday humor that touches us all.

Part of this process involved a narrow escape from the clutches of Yahoo, who held me prisoner for over 10 years, and a tentative friendship with Google, leading to the waiting arms of GoDaddy and Wordpress.  So far, the honeymoon is just beginning, but I'll reserve judgment until we emerge from newlywed bliss.

Without question, Wordpress has been a challenge for someone who lives in a love/hate relationship with technology, and relies on 24/7 hotlines, but after a few hours of trial and error, it seems to be coming together. Perhaps you can teach an old dog new tricks.

Certainly, in the near future, I will share this entire process in the hope that someone will be saved from this burden of learning, faltering, cursing, learning, faltering, cursing....the progress is slow, fitful, and frustrating.
That said, I'm here!  I'm importing over all my old postings from the RVmamma.com site, as well as postings from Examiner.com and OpenSalon.com.

Please visit me at SassyCityGirl.com!

Freeway Etiquette 101

Dear Driver on I-5,

I'm sure you had an EXCELLENT reason for your erratic and dangerous driving patterns on the road last weekend, but I'd like to share a few driving tips that could save your life.

For one thing,  the definition of  FAST LANE is simply that... the lane where you drive FAST.  In fact, you are expected to drive well OVER the speed limit, while simultaneously monitoring the rearview mirror and radar detector.  Everyone else seems to understand this, except you.   If you ever paused to wonder why other drivers are riding your @$#, honking, and flipping you off,  these are just friendly reminders to move out of the FAST lane.

Secondly, if you feel compelled to exercise your constitutional right to be in that lane, it certainly is your prerogative; everyone else must defer to you.  However, when the FAST drivers swerve to the right lane to pass,  curb the urge to engage in a Mario-Andretti-Moment and do NOT speed up to prevent passing.  I know it takes a tremendous degree of self-control to refrain from that adrenaline-fueled aggression, but be aware that it leaves a plume of road rage in your wake.

Here's the final lesson:  You are NOT the center of the universe, despite what your enabling mother may have taught you.  Mindfulness of how your behavior affects those around you will save your life in LA, will win you friends in Seattle, and will earn you good Karma everywhere.

Yahoo Sucks.

I have been on the phone with Yahoo Tech support for an hour.  Here are some direct quotes from my perplexed Tech advisor:

"Hmmmm...well, that's very strange."
"No, I've never heard of that happening before.  That would be very unusual."
"I don't know why this is happening. Let me consult with our engineers and try to figure out."
"We are going to try to set this up from here since you can't do it from your end."
"Hmmm.....that's strange, the code should be different."
"This is a little frustrating." DUH.
"We'll see if my engineers have anything else we can try here. This is REALLY weird. "
"Well now, that is definitely broken."
"I don't know if we can do that from here.  They recently changed our user interface around, and I don't know if we can do that now."
"Apparently we can't forward this account anywhere. Wow, yeah.  That is definitely a problem."
"(sigh..........)"
I can hear the distinct sound of frustration and confusion in his voice
"For some reason, this is just not working. This is not how it's supposed to be."

It was gratifying to hear that their tech engineers are frustrated and stymied.  I've been beating my head against a wall for ages dealing with this crap, and have sent numerous requests for assistance via email, to no avail.  This is the first time I've called, which forces them to actually DO something and realize that I'm not an idiot who can't follow the on-screen directions.  THEY have a serious technical glitch on their end that needs to be resolved.

Oh, I also learned that Yahoo Business Email is NOT compatible with Apple Safari.  In fact, he was positively astonished I could interface with my email AT ALL while on Safari. Mac-ophiles out there, avoid Yahoo, like the plague that it is. 

Yes, cigarettes are biodegradable, but...

The common perception is that cigarettes are biodegradable, which is, of course, perpetuated by every smoker on the planet.  Yes, the paper and tobacco are organic, but let's not forget those nasty little plastic filters*, specifically designed to lessen the deadly impact to the smoker's lungs, but have no personal regard for anything else.   But then, who cares about the environment or any of the wildlife that may consume said plastic...isn't life about survival of the fittest?  After all, it is said that those species with stronger constitutions and a genetic predisposition to digest plastic should inherit the earth....

No, I'm totally all about teaching those animals to toughen up and appreciate the nutritional value in plastic.  Putting the needs of wild ANIMALS over the nicotinic NEEDS of real humans is simply inane....just ignore those damned animal-lovers and all their tree-hugging, carbon-stingy protests.

That said, what does concern me here, is the impact these butts have on the human designated to clean this ashtray in the photo above.  It already sucks to be the ashtray-cleaner, but to force this human to stoop down to pick up the butts on the ground because some inconsiderate parasite could not deign to place the butt in the tray is beyond offensive.

No, you may not care about the environment or wildlife; in fact, you may not even buy into the whole Global Warming conspiracy.  But trash on the ground looks like trash on the ground, so this winter take that extra second to warm your fingers with that nice, toasty butt and throw it IN the ashtray, rather than NEAR it.


*There is a lot of misinformation out there regarding cigarette butt litter. The biggest myth is that cigarette filters are biodegradable. In fact, cigarette butts are not biodegradable in the sense that most people think of the word. The acetate (plastic) filters can take many years to decompose. Smokers may not realize that their actions have such a lasting, negative impact on the environment.

-CigaretteLitter.org  

http://www.cigarettelitter.org/index.asp?PageName=Facts

Rude Behavior 101

Where does rude behavior start? Are people born with a genetic predisposition to be pushy and self-centered? Or, is it something our kids silently absorb over the course of a childhood, an uncivilized osmosis. The Nature vs Nurture debate rages.

Last weekend, we were over near University Village at our favorite local shoe store, the Shoe Zoo, to replace my daughter's running shoes. A woman and her young daughter entered the store just after us, and proceeded to speak LOUDLY with ostentatious familiarity to the sales staff. Now, I've witnessed people peacocking like this around superiors at work, or with celebrities, or even at high-end retailers, in fragile efforts to build self-esteem. But the SHOE ZOO???

Naturally, she brazenly started asking for help from the salespeople out of turn, who deferred to her and started running shoes from the back immediately, while people who had been in the store waiting, looked on patiently.

Luckily for me, despite being bumped by this woman, we knew exactly what we wanted and were finished quickly, so I went up to the small register desk to pay, thankful to escape this thorn in our afternoon. Just as the clerk finished scanning my credit card, moments away from freedom, THUNK. Within that two feet of counter space, a box of shoes was unceremoniously slapped down, an inch from my elbow, which left me insufficient space to even sign the damned credit card slip. Using every speck of self-control in my person, I held my tongue, moved myself away from this hulking body that was crowding my personal space, and completed the transaction. As I stepped away, I snapped this photo to illustrate the limited space on this counter, as well as to foreshadow the next generation of rude behavior in this poor hapless child.

So, is this just all about the RANT? Of course, that's part of it, but there's also the bigger picture here. We learn basic behaviors from our parents, as well as other caregivers and role-models in our lives, but at what point do we take responsibility for our own actions and stop blaming our parents and our upbringing? Does this woman even realize she's a boor? We all witness bad behavior every day, and are surely impacted regularly, but how often do we turn that critical eye upon ourselves and think how our actions might be considered rude to others?

Here's a hint. If you happen to notice a stranger casually taking a photo of you with her iPhone, it's self-reflection time.

Tavi, You are Brilliant

http://tavi-thenewgirlintown.blogspot.com/

If you love fashion or appreciate brilliance in a pint-sized package, you MUST read this blog.  Written by a 13-yr old girl named Tavi, this remarkable, witty blog simply blows my mind.   Since she was recently on the cover of POP magazine and invited to Fashion Week, I realize I'm not making some new discovery here, but new for me, yes.

And if the photos and blog aren't enough, here's a link for a little video to truly appreciate the genius that is Tavi.

 

Photos of Tavi, from her website...seriously, is she not amazing?  

iPhone Must-Have App: Bump!

Sitting in Arosa, my favorite local coffeehouse yesterday, I was introduced to a revolutionary new term:  BUMP.

Here's the context....my friend and I were entering each other's contact info into our respective iPhones, and she said that we should just "Bump it."  What???  I didn't know what it was, but I knew I loved the name, and that's good enough for me!

So what is Bump?  It's an app that allows two iPhone users to swap contact information or photos by simply bumping the two phones together!!  It's a direct rip-off of the old Treo "beaming" ability, but WAY cooler, as only Apple can do.

The info received is automatically stored in Contacts or Photos, and the whole exchange takes a fun 10 seconds max.

To test it out, a friend and I downloaded the Bump App while sitting in the sun at the park.  (Yes, it's the end of September, and it is a glorious day in Seattle!)  I will admit that the set-up of the app is not as elegant as it could be, but not bad.  We then each selected a contact or photo to exchange....then BUMP!  We gently bumped our phones together and immediately our phones vibrated (out of sheer joy, I'm sure) and the exchange was made.  The final step is to confirm you want the info and it's done.

Did I mention that it's also FREE????  Yep, there is not a single downside to be found with this app.  Everyone needs it, everyone will use it, and it beats the hell out of typing in contact info with that god-forsaken virtual keyboard we iPhonephiles tolerate.

GET IT NOW.  

Good Samaritan in Montlake

I love those snapshots of life that leave a deep impression, especially when that memory evokes a wash of gratitude and a belief in the core goodness of people.

This week,  as I was sitting at a red light at the corner of Boyer and 23rd, right in the heart of Montlake, a potential fatality was averted right before my eyes.

Anyone who lives around here knows that this intersection is extremely busy and chaotic, situated half-way up a relatively steep hill where cars fly down 23rd, and pedestrians and cyclists often go unnoticed until the last split-second.  Indeed there was one fatality last year of a pedestrian who was simply standing at the corner, the victim of  poor visibility, clueless Seattle driving,  and unpredictable traffic patterns.  The memorial left by friends and family for the victim served as a stark reminder that we must remain completely focused and vigilant at all times. 

Which brings me back to last week.  I will admit that as I sat at the red light, with a couple cars ahead of me, I was NOT paying attention, and barely noticed when the woman waiting on the other side of 23rd started running across the street.  The light was still red, but there will always be impatient people who cross against the red, so nothing seemed terribly amiss, until I noticed she was grabbing the arm of the elderly gentleman who had been waiting on my side of the street.  Apparently confused, he had started to cross 23rd against the red light and the woman, realizing his life was in peril, rushed across the street to grab his arm and lead him back to the safety of the sidewalk.  Several cars rocketed by that very spot  a second later.  wow.

Obviously, this all happened in a matter of seconds, but as the events unfolded and my comprehension of their significance dawned on me, I was simply overwhelmed with a flood of emotion.  The slight adrenaline rush that hit me was obviously miniscule compared to what that woman must have felt, but I was thankful that she acted, probably without even thinking, and potentially saved this man's life.

As I drove past, rushing to get to my meeting, I was grateful that I was a witness to this act of pure selflessness, leaving an afterglow of renewed faith in people. 

Weird but Cute

Ridiculously cute.  Apparently, a pot-bellied pig in Germany was abandoned by its family, and this dog, who had puppies last year, adopted it.  It's that cross-species thing that's just so dang endearing. 

My 9-yr old daughter just looked at these heart-melting photos and said, "awwwwwwwww, so CUTE.  What IS it???"  Who knew that a pot-bellied piglet could be so adorable? 

So, I guess the secret's out, huh?  One look at the photos and the evidence is undeniable.  Yes, I'm a Perez-ophile.  Admitting the addiction is the first step......

Ann Taylor Hires Discount Sign Company: Part 2

I posted a photo a few weeks ago of the Ann Taylor sign with the backwards "N". It was one of those little things that catches your eye, like a visual itch.

Well, I just happened to be at Bellevue Square a couple days ago, and what did I see? 

Apparently, it takes weeks to turn that "N" around? Or is the missing "N" a sign of something much bigger?.....

Guesses anyone? 

Handy-Mamma Tip: Wake Easy

My 5-yr old started school last week, which begins promptly at 9:00am each morning.  For our family, this is a dramatic change from the sleeping-in, lounging mornings we have enjoyed all summer, where 10:00am is the crack of dawn.

On his first day, I tried to wake him at 8:00am, and he balked, hissed, batted and generally IGNORED my attempts to coax him gently out of bed. So, drawing from my infinite well of patience, I successfully motivated him by YELLING and threatening to throw away his new Star Wars Legos.  This did have the intended effect, and soon his teeth were brushed, his belly was filled, and we were on our way to school.  I'm such a good mom. 

However, the rough edge to the morning lingered with me, leaving a slightly bitter aftertaste all day.  Thus,  I was more than relieved to see, at the end of school that day, that the memories of threats and negativity were all but forgotten, replaced by the joy of the first day of school with his best friend.

The two boys were talking excitedly in the carpool on the way home about every single thing they had done, and I realized half-way through that I should have been recording this melody of giggling and sweet, childish voices.  So I thrust my iPhone (using the Voice Memo app) in front of them and asked them to tell me again, everything they had been saying....

FREEZE.  Few children, or adults for that matter, can ignore a camera or microphone.  The boys stared at the phone, suddenly shy and blank, but after some leading questions and friendly prompting, they started back into their narration of the day. We recorded about 4 minutes of conversation, which has proven to be one of my most valuable tools in my morning arsenal.

I noticed, as can be expected, that the boys LOVE to listen to their recording, and ask to listen to it over and over and over (times a million), as only kids can.  They laugh hysterically every time, their short-term memories obviously blind to the mind-numbing redundancy that we adults find so tormenting.

But, in this audio recording, salvation is delivered every morning.

Rewind to that first day of school, pulling my hair out trying to rouse my son from a dead sleep.  That battle is history.  Now, instead of using my voice or an alarm, I play that audio clip.  He starts smiling before he even opens his eyes, then starts to laugh out loud.  He, OF COURSE, wants to listen to it a second time, which he gets to do only after his teeth are brushed and he's ready for school.  Works like a CHARM!!

Seattle, Sunny and 91???

Does anyone remember Seattle last weekend?  It was partly sunny, partly drizzly and COLD, with the high on Saturday of 64 degrees. BBRRRRR.  The crisp smell of winter was definitely in the air.  Wait, did I say WINTER?  I meant FALL, of course....  I don't think I remember ever enjoying a warmer and more promising summer than this.

Well, folks, live it up TODAY, because it's going to be 91 degrees and SUNNY!!  It's summer's last brilliant smile upon us, and though it will leave lingering sun for the rest of the week, the temp will drop into fall.

Go to work today?  My advice is to blow it off, grab a blanket and head to the beach to get your final Vitamin D fix and celebrate those last few glorious hours of SUMMER before we bid it farewell....

Home Colonoscopy aka Seweroscopy

Last week an inspector from the Homeowners Club came to check out a leaky toilet, and discovered, to my horror, that we might have a leak in our sewer line.  Not good.

To put this in perspective, our house is set up high off the street, with a large, landscaped rockery along the front of the house.  To access the sewer line would require a backhoe and a lot of cash, all uncovered by insurance.  The one good thing, at least, with today's technology, they can investigate this problem without digging a single tablespoon of dirt.

The next day, the guy from Metropolitan Sewer arrived with this contraption that brought back a flood of unpleasant memories from my days as a pharmaceutical sales rep, where I was privileged enough to watch real people having long tubes shoved up their rear-ends in the name of medicine.  I swear, this procedure on my toilet was identical, but without the writhing pain and Versed chaser (midazolam)  to erase the memory. 

First, he removed the toilet itself to gain easy access to the sewer line.  Then, he started uncoiling this hose-like tube with a camera on the tip, which allowed us to see, in clear resolution, every nook and cranny of my sewer line.  Cool.  As the camera descended, we learned that the line was plastic within the house itself, smooth and surprisingly clean, then changed to clay outside.  He slowly fed the tube through the line, checking every square inch for signs of erosion, roots, or anything else that could compromise the integrity of the structure.

Finally, about 20 minutes later, he declared, "well, you never have to see me again."  I tentatively asked if that meant it was all fine, afraid to assume, because you know what happens when you assume....

YES!  He gave our sewer line a 100% thumbs up. Apparently, many sewer lines are made of concrete, which erode over time and generally cause headaches for the homeowners.  The clay lines are much more durable, and once we determined that it was in perfect condition, meant we were set for a long, long time.

In my mind, upon hearing the good news, it felt like someone put a big check in my pocket.  Shopping, anyone? 

Home Owners Club: Just Do It.

Looking for a plumber? Electrician? Need a fence built or ceiling painted?

The trick is finding someone to do the work who is not only competent, but also reliable. Not an easy task.

It's not that we don't have enough choices; just flip through the telephone book under Plumber, and you could drown in the myriad options beginning with AAAAAAA Plumbing. I know what goes through your mind: Is it better to go with a full-page ad (more successful company, but probably hires less-experienced workers) or with the catchy name (Tom's Plumbing sounds too boring), or go in-between and find the small ad, multi-color. Or do you phone them and see who has the friendliest receptionist, or the best price. Ugh. No matter what, the odds of being utterly disappointed and ripped-off is astronomically high.

Enter the Home Owners Club.

For a nominal fee, you enter the world of guaranteed work and peace of mind. The Club screens all of its contractors for you, and guarantees that the work is done to your satisfaction. You pay the Club, rather than the Contractor, so you literally don't pay until the work is completed to your specifications (which are all outlined in the proposals submitted by all the Contractors to the Club, and approved by you in writing before the work begins).

The Contractors have an enormous incentive to be on the roster with Home Owners Club because they have over 15,000 members here in the Greater Seattle Area, which drives a LOT of business to these small companies. If you have ever had shoddy work done before and bemoaned the fact that you were only ONE customer, making very little impact with your complaints, sign up with the Club NOW. The collective power of the Club ensures excellent work.

I spoke with a Club plumber a while back who is also a Member. He emphatically praised the value of the Club, and uses its referrals for anything he can't do himself. He said that the Club customers pay the same price for the work as non-Club members, but the Club takes a percentage of the contract price. Sounds like a win-win-win to me.

I have used the Club for a few plumbing projects, painting (next week), extermination, and removal/reinstallation of insulation. All have been incredibly well-organized, competent and helpful. Contrast this to the nightmares I have endured in the past with painters , roofers (see my post on this one), fence builders, gardening service. My blood pressure goes up just thinking about this.

If price is your only criterion, then the Club isn't for you. You won't get a bargain, which certainly does exist out there if you are willing to spend a lot of time contacting and interviewing scores of candidates, then doing your homework and tracing down references and background checks. Those days are over for me. Now, I want the work done with minimal stress. I still get a few bids, all referred by the Club, and then go with my gut.

I give the Home Owners Club my highest recommendation.

Seattle Blues Will Have You Climbing the Walls

(My 9-yr old daughter climbing at Vertical World in Seattle)


I love Seattle for a million different reasons, but living 47.6 degrees north of the equator does have its drawbacks.  Take, for example, sunset ruthlessly striking at 4:18 pm in the dead of winter when your body is already starving for a little Vitamin D.  Newbies to the region stare incredulously at their watches as they emerge from their brightly-lit offices,  scanning the night sky for god's punchline, before forging ahead into the afternoon inky gloom.

Of course, RAIN is always the first thing that comes to mind when thinking about Seattle.  Oddly, however, it is NOT the rainiest city in the U.S, nor is it even the second rainiest.  In fact, when you scan the list of the top 10 major cities in the US with over 40 inches of precipitation, Seattle is curiously absent.

City	Inches
Memphis, Tennessee	54.7
Jacksonville, Florida	52.3
Atlanta, Georgia	50.2
New York, New York	49.7
Nashville, Tennessee	48.1
Houston, Texas	47.8
Louisville, Kentucky	44.5
Charlotte, North Carolina	43.5
Boston, Massachusetts	42.5
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania	42.1
Baltimore, Maryland	41.9
Indianapolis, Indiana	41.0

(*Current Results webpage:  http://www.currentresults.com/Weather-Extremes/US/wettest-cities.php)

What??  Philly and New York are wetter than Seattle? How did the Emerald City get the bad rap??

This is a matter of breadth over depth.  Apparently, Seattle has a whole lotta drizzly days, ranking third on the list of major cities with over 120 rainy days annually.  Ugh.  So, the sky doesn't open in a satisfying, determined way, but rather, drips slowly, like torture, 151 days per year*. 

So what's a Seattleite to do besides investing in Gortex and full-spectrum lighting?

Indoor rock-climbing, that's what.

If you haven't tried it, you should, and here's why.  Nothing beats exercise that feels like fun.  Of course, I do use the term "fun" loosely, because although it is enjoyable, there is that addictive element of adrenaline fueled by fear.  Though you can't really fall to the ground while secured to the top by a rope, the mind has difficulty accepting this fact when suspended 30 feet off the ground.

Snobby purists lift their noses at indoor climbing, which is a completely different experience from climbing on granite cliffs. I get that.  However, the bottom line is this:  ersatz climbing is better than NO climbing, and getting ANY exercise at all is better than sitting on your butt watching TV.

My personal preference is the Vertical World, which is the first indoor climbing gym in the country.  They have a few locations, including Seattle (located by the Fisherman's Terminal), Redmond and Everett.  All offer classes to get you started, which teach safety, how to climb and how to belay, which is to hold the rope to secure your partner. It's the ideal place if you have a climbing partner or have kids.  If not, then Stone Gardens, near the Ballard Locks, is more suited for climbing alone, as they have many short walls that don't require a harness or rope. 

People ask me all the time if you need really strong arms to climb.  Eventually, yes, if you want to push yourself.  But the answer is a resounding NO for beginners. The concept of climbing is more analogous to climbing a ladder than doing pull-ups.  The key is to walk up, using the protruding "holds", with your feet, and using your hands for balance.  Obviously, this is oversimplifying, but the concept works well for beginners.

If you have kids, I have found it to be the perfect family activity. Unlike most sports where various levels of competence make playing together difficult (imagine skiing, tennis), climbing allows everyone to work at their own pace together.  In our family, we have two adults who climb at a similar difficulty level, a 9-yr old who kicks our butts, and a 5-yr old who is just learning.  We can all spend a couple satisfying hours together, engaged in something fun and active, where age and years of experience don't automatically translate into superior ability. Nope, improvement comes by embracing risk...no guts, no glory in this game.

Save the granite cliffs for dry, warm weather and spend the winter inside at Vertical World pretending you're at Smith Rock, under the blazing sun.  

Yes, there are a few other indoor family activities where you can actually break a sweat, but they are few and far between.  Feel free to send me any suggestions, and I'd be happy to check 'em out and write my review.

Hair, Hair, Go Away..

A friend is considering cutting her hair really short, a la Sharon Stone, or pre-baby Halle Berry.  Absolutely hot, sexy and confident, to be sure.  She wanted advice on whether she should chop her straight, mid-length, brown, silky-fine locks and just go for it.

As someone who sold all types of hair products to stylists for almost 5 years, spent countless hours sitting through hair color classes, permanent classes (yes, people still DO ask for spiral perms...LOL), and cutting technique classes,  I would consider myself a veritable expert.  Do I have a cosmetology license?  Of course not, but just by the number of hours spent in continuing education to sell the damned products, I certainly deserve one.  (With that said, you can expect a few follow-up posts on the finer points of the industry in weeks to come.)


But back to the haircut dilemma. Long and conservative, or short and sassy??


I personally had short, short hair for over a year in my pre-baby days... as in a couple inches long.  I decided to chop it off before I got pregnant to dispel that ridiculous belief, "Have a Baby, Cut Your Hair."  I thought it more appropriate to have the short, sexy, hip 'do before I had to trade into a Volvo and lose my identity for 10 years.

My point here is that I KNOW short hair, and what it means day-to-day.  So here's my advice:  short hair requires WAY WAY WAY more effort.  It doesn't ever look good wash-and-wear, so be prepared to spend a lot more time when you want it to look hot, and forget the blessed option of the ponytail.  Yes, the ponytail is never cute and is such a style cop-out, but god does it serve its purpose on days when showers are a luxury or when you're running late in the morning and have to choose between brushing your hair and brushing your teeth. See why super short hair for new mammas is a BAD idea? 


But if you do choose to take the plunge, invest in a lot of quality hair styling products and use enough of it every day.  Seriously, one of the biggest mistakes gals make with short cuts is to skimp on the amount of product.  More is generally better for that messy, chunky, "just rolled out of bed and didn't do a thing" look.  Finally, plan to spend the necessary time, using both hands slathered in product,  to twist, pinch and coax your hair into submission.  Finish the whole masterpiece off with a shellacking of hairspray and pray it doesn't rain. 

Sharon Stone keeps it funky with an ultra trendy short messy style. To achieve this look, she spent no less than 35 minutes. (from the short-hairstyles.com website)http://www.short-hairstyles.com/16.htm

It's Christmas in the Costco Time-Zone!

I admit I love Costco.  There is something so gratifying about buying a year's worth of toilet paper all at once.  And really, who couldn't use a flat of bananas and 5-gallon jar of mayonnaise?

In a country famous for super-sizing, Costco truly embodies the "bigger is better" (and cheaper) philosophy of America, and offers free samples ( =free lunch) to boot. 

I could literally wax poetic on the benefits of shopping warehouse-style, and really do believe that the customer service at Costco reigns supreme.  From the greeting at the door, all the way to Tom, the guy who checks your receipt at the exit and guesses the total (which is NEVER less than $200), the employees create a well-oiled machine designed to maximize both purchases, as well as customer satisfaction. 

So why the rant?  Well, the day I took this photo was September 16, also known as "late summer" in the Northern Hemisphere, and what did I find front and center at Costco???   Christmas decorations!!!

Do I sound old and crotchety if I say that, IN MY DAY, Christmas decorations didn't appear until mid- November?  The manufacturers milked us for everything we were worth for each successive holiday, but the marketing frenzy for each was never overlapping.  Who, in their right mind, needs to see waving Santas and snowflake wrapping paper for more than a month? 

Over the years, the Christmas decorations, which are clearly the most prolific and profitable, began to appear earlier and earlier in the fall to maximize the buying opportunities prior to Christmas.  First, it obliterated Thanksgiving, which is the least decorations-focused of them all, but does provide a pivotal marketing extravaganza for grocery stores.  I think we all took this holiday hijacking in stride, and accepted the Turkey/Santa hodgepodge with tolerance. 

Allowing our beloved retailers to make their annual sales goals on the sweating back of an extended Christmas season makes sense, but what is the threshold?  At what point in the heat of summer do we take a stand, in shorts and tank tops, and say, "Enough is Enough!"

Today, I take that stand.  If there is ONE holiday that I cherish, it's Halloween.  And everyone knows that the antithetical co-marketing of Santa and Skeletons leads to confusion at best, and drug addiction at worst. So, in the name of ethical responsibility and marketing color-coordination, I implore you, Costco, save Christmas until November 1!!

Thrive at Thrive

I first heard about Thrive, a vegan, raw cafe, from a friend who called it, "her new favorite place."  She didn't gush, the tone wasn't urgent, and the comment did not make me race up there for dinner. 

A few weeks later, I happened upon Thrive after my trip to Whole Foods, and I vaguely remembered someone telling me something about a place near here that sounded like it might be this one.  Not overly compelling, but I WAS starving and the sign was mighty cheerful.

As we entered, the first thing I noticed was the smell....fresh, clean, lush and GREEN.  I felt healthier just walking in.

The second thing I noticed was the extremely friendly service, which is an extremely rare thing to behold in Seattle.  Yes, we have good service at times, but the general attitude around here ranges from anti-perky to morosely functional.  Generally not HORRIBLE, but Seattleites harbor a mild distrust of anyone who smiles too much..."they must be from out of town."  Which makes striking the balance a precarious tightrope for anyone working in any service industry here. 

Anyway, the people at Thrive are inordinately confident, probably not native Seattleites anyway, and positively BEAM with enthusiasm while answering any questions about the menu.  Our cashier was glowing with health, and made a point to tell us that he was Cuban, which implied Carnivore, and that he had lost 15 lbs in the last few weeks since he began working at Thrive. Imagine that?!?  I also don't doubt that he was burning twice as many calories each day, bouncing with excitement, extolling the virtues of a healthier diet.  Sounds like a win-win to me.

Anyway, we ordered a fresh juice (carrot, apple, beet, ginger), the Pastadoro (noodles made from raw zucchini with fresh tomato and garlic sauce...sounds weird, but oddly isn't), and the crown jewel of the meal, the Awaken Bowl (quinoa and red rice with avocado, marinated kale, toasted nori, a rainbow of raw veggies and sesame ginger sauce).  This last dish is now literally my single favorite meal in Seattle, a savory and satisfying combination of flavors and textures, that will leave you utterly guilt-free with a slight spring to your step.  Like the cashier! 

I have now been back several times and each time worry that the quality will diminish or that they will hire young, angst-ridden employees.  So far, so good.  I will admit, the service is FRIENDLY, but not necessarily expedient.  Hit it at a time with more than one seated table and the kitchen spirals out of control, sending dishes out one at a time, with the kids' dishes out last, leaving parties of 4 or more discomfited with the social awkwardness created by this random parade of food. 

I'm ok with that, because the food at Thrive is truly amazing and healthy, and the staff, though erratic, is warm and welcoming.

Many people will be turned off at the prospect of eating at a raw, vegan cafe, but I guarantee that you will find something to love here.  Thrive doesn't try to make conventional foods the raw way, which is an exercise in futility.  Hello, have you tried raw, vegan lasagna, a dish that can only be associated with gooey melted cheese and more cheese?  Or how about enchiladas?   I don't want ersatz cheese and soy meat product in a vulgar attempt to desecrate perfectly good dishes.  Sorry, that doesn't work for me.

What makes Thrive work is beautiful food, served with creative names that do not attempt to evoke any past food memories, but rather make the delicious combination of varied ingredients tempting in their own right. 

City Hostel Seattle: Let There Be ART!!

Often, in a rush of excitement and pure enthusiasm, people can create unrealistically high expectations that unintentionally leave a wake of disappointment.

Only rarely, graced by that proverbial blue moon, do high expectations fall so far short of the sublime reality, that we cannot help but become heralds of that infectious excitement and enthusiasm ourselves. I am delighted to say that I was lucky enough to enjoy just such an experience this week.
 

Last month, I ran into a friend, Lee Kindall, who is the Visionary behind the City Hostel Seattle.  He was in the process of putting on the finishing touches to his new business venture, a true labor of love, which he described in heroic detail as a local, cultural experience, that would unite Seattle art and community.  He implored me to visit the Belltown Artwalk on September 11, for the experience of a lifetime. Big words.
 

What I found was an exceptionally vibrant space, humming with energy, defined by the imagination and herculean efforts of Lee, along with a team of artists, investors, and community advocates.  Empowered with seemingly limitless energy and unyielding inspiration, Lee has challenged the conventional and pushed the limits of expectation, to create a traveler's mecca, alive with art, music, and poetry.

The hostel is truly a destination unlike any other in the world.  It is the only one to integrate exclusively local artists, with each room painstakingly personalized, without constraint.  The result is a montage of styles and genres both within each customized room, and in the public spaces of the grand building.
 

The photos above were taken on my iPhone, without flash of course, but give a basic idea of the artistic diversity presented throughout the hostel. With over 40 artists, there is something for everyone. Visit the website to view a virtual tour of the rooms.

For a truly unique Seattle experience, send your guests to City Hostel Seattle, right in the heart of the city, and turn your guestroom into an office.

Pottery Barn Kids: Buyer Beware

Some people subscribe to the belief that, "if you have to ask the price, then you can't afford it."  Others are embarrassed to mention when they have been overcharged and prefer to meekly absorb the cost with grace.  Of course, there are also the lucky few who simply don't care about the cost, because money is no object.

The above-mentioned shoppers are every retailer's dream, and quietly offset a small fraction of the unrestrained hemorrhaging in this tenuous economy.

I am not one of these shoppers.

This afternoon, as I walked through University Village, I happened upon a huge window display at Pottery Barn Kids, advertising that Star Wars bedding was ON SALE!!  When you have a 5-yr old Star Wars addict living under your roof, windows like this propel you through the door against your better judgment.

The display was in a small room, off the main aisleway, consisting of a wall lined with retail items carefully arranged by size and pattern, and small placards listing the prices.  The display bed was covered in Star Wars characters, drawing appreciative and covetous stares from every boy in the store, including some with greying temples.  What Star Wars aficionado could possibly resist an entire room filled with artwork, pillow shams, duvets, chairs and books devoted to destroying the Empire??

After careful consideration, I decided that a pillow sham (May the Force Be With You) and a twin duvet was the way to go.  The duvet only featured C3PO and R2D2, but was the only one I could see, so I headed to the check-out counter.  According to the price list above, I assumed the duvet was $69 and the sham $24, so with tax, I expected the total to be around $100.  Instead, the total was about $190.

I will admit that my immediate thought was, WHOA, that's A LOT of money for a Star Wars-themed bed for a FIVE year old who will probably ask to switch to a Pokemon bed in about a month.

My second thought was that I must be lame to have misread the price list, and though I could/should reject this extravagance, I simply couldn't resist the anticipation of his facial expression when he opened the box. I've learned from MasterCard that that moment is priceless. 

I paid, then immediately headed to the display to confirm the price, and discovered that I was right, they were wrong, and brought the placard back to the counter for confrontation time.

The clerk informed me that the duvet I purchased came in AFTER the signage was made, and that it wasn't on sale, though it was displayed with the rest of the Star Wars sale merchandise.  Yes, the rest of the items were discounted just not THAT one.  He then patiently turned the duvet I purchased over to point out the price sticker, which was $149, an EIGHTY dollar difference, more than twice as much as the price listed on the placard.  He looked at me with those patronizing eyes, which would have driven someone with more pride and a weaker constitution right out of the store.  I asked him which duvet was $69, (which I might add, is NOT CHUMP CHANGE) and he showed me a thin duvet the texture of a sheet, covered with all the characters from the original Star Wars movie.

What's a mamma to do?  Tell him to exchange them immediately, that's what.  Again, I was met with that slightly patronizing attitude, albeit with an apology regarding the misleading signage (I wonder how many suckers they lured in this week??).  Halfway through this second transaction, he did he ask me whether I preferred the original duvet, which I truly did not, because he would "of course" honor the deceptive price list. 

I left with a bad taste in my mouth, wondering how long it would take for them to change the signage, if ever.  It also made me consider the fact that I only noticed because the price discrepancy was so high, and question how closely I should look at my receipts in the future.

Ironically, I was at University Village to pick up items I had inadvertently left yesterday, because I didn't check my bags.    I had been shopping at Fireworks for gifts, and because I had them wrap most of the items, I didn't hesitate when they handed me two big bags on my way out the door.  It was only this afternoon, as I was searching for one of the items, unwrapping every gift-wrapped box in the process, that I realized I was missing A LOT.  I called the store and was informed that they had a large bag of wrapped boxes they had forgotten to give me.  Since the wedding was TONIGHT, I had to rush over to get the bag (right at the end of a UW football game, which which is just another long story!).

As a final note, one of the small items I purchased at Fireworks was a mechanical pencil that looks like a yellow, #2 school pencil.  It was supposed to be with the above-mentioned bag, but was missing, so I get to make a THIRD trip to U-village this week, where it is waiting for me.  If you calculate the cost involved with THREE trips to U-village.....

Note to self:  It's time to win the lottery.

Afternoon Delight: Affogato

Really, there's nothing better than a perfect shot of espresso to kick your day into high gear.  Need an afternoon dose of invincibility?  Make it a double. 

However, I've recently discovered that, in fact, there IS something just slightly more perfect.  Affogato. 

Take your perfect shot of espresso and pour it, steaming and aromatic, right over a dreamy dollop of frozen vanilla custard.  The synergistic melding of extremes creates a sensuous harmony in your mouth, with a lingering caffeinated finish.  Irresistible. 

                                            

Real Girls Rock

Thought I'd share a gorgeous photo taken with my iPhone* last February at the USA Climbing Nationals in Boulder, Colorado.  (2/2009 Spot Bouldering Gym, Boulder, CO)

Lamentably, the iPhone does not have a flash, so indoor shots are generally blurry and dark, but at this event, there were so many professional photogs surrounding the subject that I was able to steal this incredible moment. 

First off, let me introduce the subject, Sydney McNair, one of the top female climbers in the country.  She is competing here in the US Nationals, Open Women's Finals, engaging in a physical feat normal humans can barely imagine.  Less than two seconds before this isolated moment, Sydney's hands were firmly planted on the "holds", or small protrusions of rock, five feet below her hand-holds in this photo.

Imagine her body clutching the wall in a squatting position, hands and feet securely positioned, legs tense, ready to spring.  Then, a breathtaking instant later, she is lithely sailing through the air with arms outstretched, lunging upwards and backwards in a graceful arc.  Finally, with smooth confidence, her hands connect with the holds several feet away, fluidly altering her trajectory, swinging her legs in a complete semi-circle away from the rock, in an acrobatic dance with gravity. 

The crowd goes wild, the cheers thundering in a surging wall of sound, punctuated only by the brilliant flashes from cameras in every direction, illuminating this moment of joyful chaos.

This was my true introduction to climbing, as a competitive sport.  Yes, my 9-yr old daughter competed at Nationals that year, which was thrilling for me as a parent.  But to see athletes of Sydney's caliber,  gracefully defying the laws of gravity, inciting a huge fanatical crowd of cheering spectators in this MTV-style MC/DJ extravaganza, was nothing short of exhilarating.


*photo taken with iPhone 3G, edited with Photogene App, using Crop, Filter (Sharpen and Effect-b/w), Color Adjust (Levels and Exposure), and Frames.  This is definitely an iPhone Must-Have App!

Mercury is in Retrograde....

...which apparently explains why everything in my life is coming apart at the seams. 

Last night at 8:30pm: I received a text, confirming a playdate for my 5-yr old.  Life, as I know it, calmly sailed on smooth waters. 

10:00pm: I began to feel nauseous, with severe abdominal cramps.  Thinking it would dissipate, I took a deep breath and focused on my happy place.  30 minutes later, exhaling the bitter fumes of defeat, I crawled out of the bath, noticing in my haze of agony, that the text message which was earlier labeled "Erica", was now labeled as a phone number.  Odd.  (if checking texts while doubled over in pain is a sign of addiction, then I deny I checked my text)

10:45pm:  In bed, the roiling seas of nausea behind me, I tried to decipher the mystery of the text message. Scrolling through all my recent texts, I realized with a shock of impending doom, that NONE of them are labeled with names, only phone numbers.  Frantically moving to my Address Book, my brain swirling in bitter confusion and absolute denial, I am confronted with the incontrovertible truth.  My Address Book is blank.   Virgin, unadulterated like a newborn babe.  Or, empty as the burned out husk of a murderer/rapist/thief's soul in the pits of hell. 

11:00pm: Desperately tried to get online to contact Tech Support at Apple, but my MacBook wouldn't respond to my ceaseless and insistent pecking, the internet frozen and unsympathetic to my plight.  It took 15 minutes to defrost the internet, 115 minutes for my blood pressure normalize.

12:30am:  The online job application I'd nearly completed somehow spontaneously deleted all the fields of (long-winded) written responses I'd just spent an hour composing/editing/re-editing.  I accept this as a sign that my answers sucked and someone was telling me to start fresh later. 

The next day 3:45pm:  Appointment at the Genius Bar to deal with this catastrophe.  My assigned Genius is the guy who couldn't answer his own name last time, and though tempted to just cancel and surreptitiously reschedule on his day off, I decided to give him ONE last try.  I was desperate, after all. This time, he did seem to understand my problem, and, after going in the back to ask the REAL Genius, did give me blow-by-blow instructions to retrieve my lost data on my Time Capsule external hard-drive (thank you, Mark, for making me buy this!!!!) which were NOT intuitive at all when I spent hours trying to figure it out myself last night. 

5:00pm:  Home to try out above instructions.  Yes, I did find the data, YAAAYYYY!!  However, I'm stymied by how to put said data back into my current Address book.  Ugh.  Very frustrating, but comforting to know it is THERE. No longer homicidal, just frustrated and sleep-deprived/overly-caffeinated.   

10:30pm:  Can't get my MacBook to work. I try repeatedly to open Firefox, to no avail.  I try to Force Quit, and see that Firefox is open, but then come to the disturbing realization that NOTHING is responding.  In fact, I can't even Shut Down.  Weird. 

11:00pm:  Finally pressed and held Power button to reset Macbook.  As it's rebooting, I grab my iPhone to check email.  You guessed it....not working, screen frozen.  WTF. 

If my life is thoroughly and utterly screwed when Mercury is in retrograde, and I will admit that this analogous scenario HAS happened twice before, only later to be identified and blamed on Mercury's retrograditude, then shouldn't there be a polar-opposite planet in futuregrade that makes me win the lottery? 

Rantographer: Silly Mamma, Diet Coke is for Kids!

 (kid at the park drinking a can of Diet Coke...seriously)

Folks, artificial sweeteners are unhealthy for your kids.  Period.  Pepsico may argue that fact, but I challenge you to find a SINGLE scientific journal to support aspartame as anything other than corrosive to your health. 

If YOU choose to drink it, do so at your own risk, as you are an adult, capable of discerning the cost/benefit analysis to your own well-being.  Your children are NOT.  They are hostages to your choices, and deserve a healthier alternative.  Water is one.

I truly try to refrain from judging the parenting decisions of others, but I draw the line when I see little kids drinking this SHIT.

SWINE FLU: According to the CDC, if you look like this......

STAY HOME!!! 

Handy-Mamma Tip: More Sprinkles, Please

This is my 5-yr old's dessert choice the other day.  Frozen yogurt with diced mango and rainbow sprinkles.  I truly could not imagine anything more repulsive.


There's just something magnetic, irresistible about sprinkles that drives kids into a feasting frenzy.  Is it the attractive pastel coloring, surely derived from all-botanical sources?  Or that delightful texture, waxily clinging to the roof of the mouth that alludes to the goodness of mother earth.  Or better yet, the flower-shape of each tasty bit, lovingly hand-crafted into a veritable garden of eatin'. 

Whatever it is, kids dig it.

Here's a little Handy-Mamma tip for the week:

Buy sprinkles (go to Whole Foods and find the organic, all-natural ones if you must) and sprinkle a few of these colorful little bits on your kid's veggies.  Let them do it themselves if it helps.  They actually contain very few calories or fat, or any other consumable sins we adults fear.  The net result is that your kids will eat whatever is sprinkled.  Beats slathering everything in butter, which is my personal preference. 

An Ode to Dill

Dill

Gorgeously Green
Daintily Delectable
Perfectly Pungent
Naturally Naked

Oh, the promise it holds!

Richly Repulsive
Distressingly Disgusting
Horrendously Hideous
Formidably Foul

The reality unfolds. 

-RVmamma 2009

VANS: Bottom of the Barrel

(Yes, the shoes are enormous AND his toenails are blue)

VANS slip-ons bring back fond memories of Socal, sun-bleached hair, the call of the beach.

Here in Seattle, we may not have enough sun, nor the crash of waves, but the VANS company wants its salespeople to look the part.  Peroxide bleached hair, check.  Fake-baked to a rich mahogany hue, check. IQ maxed at 75, check. 

Last weekend, my 5-yr old son decided that some cool VANS were the school shoe of choice this year. Not great for arch support, the mom in me thought, but the absence of laces would be a daily time-savings bonus.  Great choice, I agreed. 

The Bellevue Square VANS store wasn't crowded, but all three sales people had customers, so we scanned the wall o'shoes while waiting our turn.  Not that I don't love to wait for long stretches of time  while being studiously ignored (apparently the concept of eye contact and a quick, "I'll be right with you," doesn't exist in skaterville), but I did have to summon all my patience because I knew that the selection here greatly surpassed what was available at Nordstrom next door.

When I finally managed to flag down a salesgirl, I was saddened to observe that she was overwhelmed with multi-tasking, barely able to acknowledge us, while simultaneously stacking the boxes of unpurchased shoes from the last customer.  Saddened, that is, until I started blacking out from the purgatory of her smoker's breath, a noxious cloud that threatened to drive me straight out of the store.  Somehow, through sheer strength of will, I regained my composure, readjusted my personal space to keep her a safe three feet away, and asked her to measure my son's feet for size.

She pulled out a measuring device, as shown here, a variation of which is found in all shoe stores.  Simple.

The first thing I noticed when she told me my son's feet were a size 2, which meant they had virtually doubled in size this summer, was that she incorrectly measured, leaving an enormous gap between his heel and the back edge .  I tried to be polite and not call attention to her obvious ineptitude , and instead, asked my son to stand on the device again, sliding his foot back, as she measured.  This time, it indicated that his feet had still grown several sizes, which seemed impossible, so I took it upon myself to do the measurement, after she left to retrieve his shoes. This is when I realized that she had been using the device backward, placing his heels against the wrong end. Oy. 

Which explains the photo on top.  Needless to say, the shoes didn't fit.

Anyway, I asked her to bring the accurate size at this point, which was a 10.5, to bypass the painstakingly long, multi-step process of her own discovery.  However, unwilling to budge on the full shoe-shopping experience,  the salesgirl brought the correct size, but the wrong color.  If commission is paid on effort and time wasted, this girl is in the money.

In the end, though I had to embrace my inner calm to endure this experience, my son ended up with shoes he loves, in the correct size, which is mission accomplished.  Sigh.

Ann Taylor Hires Discount Sign Company

I LOVE when I catch moments like these!  I happened to be at Bellevue Square Mall, when I looked up and noticed this signage on Ann Taylor.  Someone needs to be fired. 

Arosa Coffee and Waffles: Breakfast of Champions

Great customer service gets me every time.

I could overlook high prices and even mediocre products when the service dazzles.

Fortunately,  you don't have to sacrifice a thing at Arosa Cafe in Madison Park.  The prices are average, the coffee is good, and the service is stellar.  The owner, Michelle, is the perfect local business owner, working behind the counter, greeting people by name,  and starting their orders the minute they walk in the door.  Warmly engaging each customer and thoughtfully remembering the minutiae of their lives, she gives away something you just can't buy...the DESIRE to be a regular.

It's strange.  Arosa is about a block from my house, and I never felt compelled to go until a year ago.  Seattle offers about 152 places per square mile to buy excellent coffee, so picking a favorite is a multi-faceted endeavor.  Proximity is important, quality matters, prices probably don't even show up on most addict's radar, but service reigns supreme.  Loyalty is the name of the game in this town, and people resist venturing far from their favorites.

I had my faves, but only an uptight social misfit would refuse to leave the confines of their comfort zone when someone else invites them to try someplace new. (You know who you are!)

Needless to say, I was taken by the comfortable ambiance inside Arosa, and couldn't resist the power of local neighborhood conversation, the language spoken here.  Agnes, the cheerful, engaging barista who remembered my name, my kids' names and where I went on vacation, sealed my fate as an Arosa-loyalist.

And if all of the above weren't enough, (**insert Cheers lyrics) then did I mention homemade waffles??  Michelle makes the dough fresh daily, and grills them up on a waffle maker in the store.  They are the kind of treat you eat with your hands, like a doughnut...sweet, sticky, warm.  Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...........ain't nothin' like hot coffee and a waffle.   



**Sometimes you want to go

Where everybody knows your name,
and they're always glad you came.
You wanna be where you can see,
our troubles are all the same
You wanna be where everybody knows
Your name. 

Making a statement: Clearwire sucks

If you exaggerate, equivocate and deceive long enough, do you start to believe the lie yourself? That is the question.

Clearwire salespeople definitely buy into the marketing mania, spinning off the benefits with wild abandon.

Yes, there are only 3 simple items in the Starter Kit: the modem, the plug, the ethernet cable.  Yes, you can walk right into the mall and take it home today!

Yes, you can set it all up yourself, connecting these 3 simple items together, then connecting the modem to your own router, which you must purchase separately.

And, YES, Clearwire is the only internet service that is PORTABLE!  Take it with you when you travel!  

Ironically, though Clearwire has hijacked the simplicity message, the Starter Kit for Qwest was virtually identical.  Modem, phone cord, ethernet cable, plug.  I set it up myself, and didn't need to block out a 12-hour window waiting for a technician.

Both don't work as well as promised.  Both require several calls to technical service to get a decent internet speed, and both leave me slightly disappointed within the first week, resigned to the fact that it's easier to lower my expectations than switch AGAIN.   

The most annoying thing about Clearwire is the absolute limitation on where the modem can be placed within my house.  Because it's relying on a cell signal, the ONLY place (and I know this for a FACT after trying every single goddamned window in my house) I can position the modem is in the east-facing window of the master bedroom, in an exact 15 degree angle to the window pane.  If you move it even 10 degrees in either direction or move it to the next window, the signal literally disappears.  LAME! 

And portability??  The most compelling reason to buy Clearwire, and I realized on my first roadtrip that it was annoying to carry all 3 simple items with me, AND that they had neglected to mention that Clearwire only works in a handful of major cities in the Western US.  NOT a benefit by any stretch of the imagination. 

I FINALLY changed from Clearwire after two years, and got online to cancel.  Of course, this is one area that will NOT BE SIMPLE.  They fight tooth and nail to prevent cancelations.  They say they have customer service 24/7, but that doesn't include canceling, because they pull out the big guns for that.  No, you need to CALL them M-F, during business hours, so they can put a REAL HUMAN on the line to beg you to stay, offering all the deals and benefits they should have given you in the first place. 

I had already hooked up my new internet service with Qwest, so I politely declined and was told that I would receive an email with a UPS shipping label sometime within 48 hours and that I had to pack up the 3 simple items in my own box and hoof it down to the UPS store to mail it back.  Hopefully, for my sake, the package would arrive back at their warehouse before my next billing cycle to avoid another month of service charge.

No, they don't provide a box for the return.

No, you can't just take it to the storefront at the mall where you purchased the damned thing, because they "aren't equipped for that."

No, UPS can't pick up the return from your home; you have to drive it to them.  (Ever heard of Zappos, people??? Talk about a lesson in GOOD customer service)

Back to the photo above.  Since they didn't provide a box for the return, I thought it apropos to send the 3 simple items back to Clearwire in the Qwest box.  A little farewell from RVmamma. 

Rant-ophile: Line it up, B of A

Here's my simple rant for B of A.  This is a photo of their ATM screen at the IKEA in Renton.  Look closely.  Do you see that the buttons don't align with the choices?  Is it really so hard to make it easier for your customers?  Lame.