One of my Christmas gifts was a $50 gift certificate for Best Buy. Now normally, this would be perfect. I would rush to Best Buy to get the good discounted stuff that folks have returned, and is marked down. However, this year I really wanted a Lowe's gift certificate. I have some house projects that I'd like to do and the $50 would go a long way towards that. The word didn't get to Santa in time though...
I had heard about a site where you could trade gift certificates, so I decided to check it out. I registered and entered my Best Buy information. I saw that someone had a Lowe's cert, for the same amount, and had "Best Buy" on their wish list. Cool! This should be easy!
I offered them a trade this morning, but have not yet heard back.
As a side note on this - I think I am the only one on the planet working this week. I went out for a quick shopping trip over lunch today and verified this fact. ...so the Lowe's cert guy is probably off work and won't reply until next week. Sigh.
I did however, get a trade offer of a $50 Red Lobster cert just now. Heavy sigh. I had to chuckle at some poor schmuck getting a Red Lobster gift certificate for Christmas. Ah, the gift of bad seafood. Hee-hee.
Hope you all had a Merry Christmas, are having a Happy Hannukkah, are having an enjoyable Kwanza, or are delighting in your favorite Pagan holiday. Enjoy!
UPDATE: Today (Thursday) I received a trade offer for a 1800-Wine cert. While tempting, I need to stay focused on Lowe's and the house projects. Doesn't anyone NOT like Lowe's. C'mon people!
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Civic Duty
If you have any inflatable, moving or light-up Christmas decorations that can be turned off, deflated or stopped, please read the letter below and perform your civic duty, dammit!
Rest assured that if you do not, parents within a 15-mile radius are cursing you.
From: Goofy's Husband [mailto:ghubbie@themancorp.com]
Sent: Tuesday, December 20, 2005 11:05 AM
To: Neighbor, Friendly
Subject: Help a brother out...
Friendly-
I must inform you of your civic duty. Once you commit to buying and inflating Christmas decorations in your front yard you must be consistent and have it inflated every night. Otherwise I must deal with the wrath of Goofy Junior when I keep telling him the Christmas Bear is sleeping...again ;-)
Our neighbor across the street has an inflatable Santa and I can’t tell you how sad I am to see the look of disappointment in Junior’s face when Santa is collapsed on the front lawn like a drunken hobo.
Thanks.
Goofy's Husband
Toiler for The Man
The Man Corp.
(555) 555-5555
Rest assured that if you do not, parents within a 15-mile radius are cursing you.
From: Goofy's Husband [mailto:ghubbie@themancorp.com]
Sent: Tuesday, December 20, 2005 11:05 AM
To: Neighbor, Friendly
Subject: Help a brother out...
Friendly-
I must inform you of your civic duty. Once you commit to buying and inflating Christmas decorations in your front yard you must be consistent and have it inflated every night. Otherwise I must deal with the wrath of Goofy Junior when I keep telling him the Christmas Bear is sleeping...again ;-)
Our neighbor across the street has an inflatable Santa and I can’t tell you how sad I am to see the look of disappointment in Junior’s face when Santa is collapsed on the front lawn like a drunken hobo.
Thanks.
Goofy's Husband
Toiler for The Man
The Man Corp.
(555) 555-5555
Friday, December 16, 2005
I'm a Cheap Ho Too!
I'm coming to the realization that I'm a cheap bitch. First the free shipping obsession, now the gift card at-a-discount obsession.
First off, DAMN you Pesky Apostrophe for leading me to these sites! Whew, now I feel better.
I clicked on a link for CardAvenue. Then SwapAGift. I found lots of folks that had gift cards they didn't want, that are willing to sell at a discount or trade their cards for other ones.
From a seller's perspective, no longer do you have to keep that $50 Wal-mart card that Granny thought you might like. You can trade it for a Best Buy card, or sell it to someone for $45.
From a buyer's perspective (mine!), you can get a $500 Target gift card for $450. That's like getting $50 for FREE!
There's a small $3.99 fee to list a card on the site. There's no fee to buy a card from the site.
I feel an obsession coming on....everyone stand back.
First off, DAMN you Pesky Apostrophe for leading me to these sites! Whew, now I feel better.
I clicked on a link for CardAvenue. Then SwapAGift. I found lots of folks that had gift cards they didn't want, that are willing to sell at a discount or trade their cards for other ones.
From a seller's perspective, no longer do you have to keep that $50 Wal-mart card that Granny thought you might like. You can trade it for a Best Buy card, or sell it to someone for $45.
From a buyer's perspective (mine!), you can get a $500 Target gift card for $450. That's like getting $50 for FREE!
There's a small $3.99 fee to list a card on the site. There's no fee to buy a card from the site.
I feel an obsession coming on....everyone stand back.
Friday, December 09, 2005
I'm a Ho...
a Free Shipping Ho, that is.
The first step to recovery is admission that you have a problem. I have a problem. I cannot resist the lure of "free shipping". I will do anything for free shipping.
Evidenced the other day as I was doing some holiday shopping on Amazon.com. They offer "Super Saver Shipping" (read as: FREE!) for orders over $25. Since I had about five items each to buy for two nieces, this should have been no problemo. However....
The "Super Saver Shipping" only applied to items that Amazon.com sells themselves. The key word being "themselves". For example, when you buy a toy from Amazon.com, the supplier is actually Toys R Us, not Amazon. Thus, no free shipping for that item. Drat!
Also, when you buy something as "used" from Amazon.com, that does not apply for the free shipping. Double Drat!
So, I found myself needing one purchase of $12.59 to qualify for the free shipping. I decided to buy one more book (horse-related, naturally...these are my horse-crazy nieces, after all). Guess how much the book was? $12.35! A frigging 24 cents short! Not even a quarter short. I added it to my order and the damn site actually told me, "you need .24 to qualify for Super Saver Shipping". Oh, bite my jingle bells! Just give me the quarter, for crying out loud!
So, what did I do?
Did I just place the damn order and get on with my life? No way, Jose.
I asked Loving Husband, "Do you need anything from Amazon.com?" Surprisingly, he didn't need anything. When he finally thought of several things, they were (of course!) not qualified for the fucking free shipping. Triple Drat!
"Does Goofy Junior need anything from Amazon.com?" Of course not. Junior has more "stuff" than the entire household combined, thanks to Junior-centric Gramma and Grampa.
I spend ONE HOUR of my precious life, trying to spend 24 cents. And having a hard time doing it!
Finally Loving Husband came up with the perfect plan. "How about a sticker book?"
"A sticker book!!!" Hallelujah! It was $1.25.
The final tally? I saved $5.29 in shipping.
I told you...I'm a Free Shipping Ho.
The first step to recovery is admission that you have a problem. I have a problem. I cannot resist the lure of "free shipping". I will do anything for free shipping.
Evidenced the other day as I was doing some holiday shopping on Amazon.com. They offer "Super Saver Shipping" (read as: FREE!) for orders over $25. Since I had about five items each to buy for two nieces, this should have been no problemo. However....
The "Super Saver Shipping" only applied to items that Amazon.com sells themselves. The key word being "themselves". For example, when you buy a toy from Amazon.com, the supplier is actually Toys R Us, not Amazon. Thus, no free shipping for that item. Drat!
Also, when you buy something as "used" from Amazon.com, that does not apply for the free shipping. Double Drat!
So, I found myself needing one purchase of $12.59 to qualify for the free shipping. I decided to buy one more book (horse-related, naturally...these are my horse-crazy nieces, after all). Guess how much the book was? $12.35! A frigging 24 cents short! Not even a quarter short. I added it to my order and the damn site actually told me, "you need .24 to qualify for Super Saver Shipping". Oh, bite my jingle bells! Just give me the quarter, for crying out loud!
So, what did I do?
Did I just place the damn order and get on with my life? No way, Jose.
I asked Loving Husband, "Do you need anything from Amazon.com?" Surprisingly, he didn't need anything. When he finally thought of several things, they were (of course!) not qualified for the fucking free shipping. Triple Drat!
"Does Goofy Junior need anything from Amazon.com?" Of course not. Junior has more "stuff" than the entire household combined, thanks to Junior-centric Gramma and Grampa.
I spend ONE HOUR of my precious life, trying to spend 24 cents. And having a hard time doing it!
Finally Loving Husband came up with the perfect plan. "How about a sticker book?"
"A sticker book!!!" Hallelujah! It was $1.25.
The final tally? I saved $5.29 in shipping.
I told you...I'm a Free Shipping Ho.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Killing a Business
One of my goals this past two weeks has been killing a business. Lest you think I'm cruel and heartless, the business was begging to be killed. The business in question was a jewelry-making business. A friend and I created the business two years ago. We took a jewelry making class, thought it was fun, then a few friends saw our creations and asked to buy them. What a rush! Hmmm....we thought. We could make some money and support our jewelry habit. How cool is that?
Well, at first it was very cool. We happily made jewelry and sold a few pieces to friends and family. Then we got our first store! Well, not OUR store...a store that was willing to put our jewelry on display and split the profits. "We are in the big time now," we thought. Then we got another store, and another, and another. It seemed that all we had to do was bring some jewelry in to show and ask about splitting profits. We could have gotten four more stores if we had just asked.
However around this time we realized that we needed to PRODUCE. Not happily create jewelry when we felt inspired. PRODUCE. A much different feeling, let me tell you. Around this same time my partner decided that she didn't like the pressure of having to PRODUCE when the stores needed inventory. She wanted to create jewelry when the urge struck her. And I whole-heartedly agreed! But I couldn't kill the business. I just couldn't do it. So my partner bowed out and I continued on.
Fast forward to about a month ago, when I did the accounting for the business for the year. Oh, all the revenue that had come in! It had added up. Wee! But, wait a minute...there was also the expenses. They had added up too. In my eagerness to PRODUCE, I had stocked up on beads, findings, wire, tags, tools, etc., etc.
When the two columns were summed and compared, I was BREAKING EVEN. Not making a dime. Basically doing the business for fun. And it wasn't much fun. There was a lot of deadlines and stress about HAVING to make jewelry, even when I wasn't in the mood. Plus, being me, I had several other projects in the hopper that were new! and fun! and needed my attention.
I asked Loving Husband his opinion. He was brief and to the point. "Simplify and prioritize," he said. He's a smart man sometimes, I have to admit.
So I came to the difficult decision. I must kill the business.
The first store removed itself. The owner had decided that her location sucked and was closing, moving and reopening in March. I pulled the inventory out and sighed with relief. That was easy.
The second store was easy too. I hadn't dropped off any new inventory in about 4 months. My contact there said she wouldn't be upset if I pulled out the jewelry case and revamped it. I asked if she would be upset if I didn't bring it back. She said "no". I considered it done.
The third store was a bit more difficult. They gave me some trouble. "Oh no!" they said, "Don't take your jewelry out. Make some more and it will sell. It's Christmas time, you know." I was obstinate. Well, I left and came back and then was obstinate. "I'm quitting the jewelry business!" I declared. They finally acquiesed and let me leave. On the way out, they tempted me again. "You know our other jewelry provider is quitting too. We won't have anyone's jewelry to sell." "I'm quitting!" I said, yet again. And so it was done.
The fourth store still has bundles of inventory. They will not be calling me for a while. They should get through Christmas and then some before I have to break the bad news to them. I'm going to leave them dumb and happy for the meantime, and break the news later.
It's hard work, killing a business. Almost as much work as starting one.
Well, at first it was very cool. We happily made jewelry and sold a few pieces to friends and family. Then we got our first store! Well, not OUR store...a store that was willing to put our jewelry on display and split the profits. "We are in the big time now," we thought. Then we got another store, and another, and another. It seemed that all we had to do was bring some jewelry in to show and ask about splitting profits. We could have gotten four more stores if we had just asked.
However around this time we realized that we needed to PRODUCE. Not happily create jewelry when we felt inspired. PRODUCE. A much different feeling, let me tell you. Around this same time my partner decided that she didn't like the pressure of having to PRODUCE when the stores needed inventory. She wanted to create jewelry when the urge struck her. And I whole-heartedly agreed! But I couldn't kill the business. I just couldn't do it. So my partner bowed out and I continued on.
Fast forward to about a month ago, when I did the accounting for the business for the year. Oh, all the revenue that had come in! It had added up. Wee! But, wait a minute...there was also the expenses. They had added up too. In my eagerness to PRODUCE, I had stocked up on beads, findings, wire, tags, tools, etc., etc.
When the two columns were summed and compared, I was BREAKING EVEN. Not making a dime. Basically doing the business for fun. And it wasn't much fun. There was a lot of deadlines and stress about HAVING to make jewelry, even when I wasn't in the mood. Plus, being me, I had several other projects in the hopper that were new! and fun! and needed my attention.
I asked Loving Husband his opinion. He was brief and to the point. "Simplify and prioritize," he said. He's a smart man sometimes, I have to admit.
So I came to the difficult decision. I must kill the business.
The first store removed itself. The owner had decided that her location sucked and was closing, moving and reopening in March. I pulled the inventory out and sighed with relief. That was easy.
The second store was easy too. I hadn't dropped off any new inventory in about 4 months. My contact there said she wouldn't be upset if I pulled out the jewelry case and revamped it. I asked if she would be upset if I didn't bring it back. She said "no". I considered it done.
The third store was a bit more difficult. They gave me some trouble. "Oh no!" they said, "Don't take your jewelry out. Make some more and it will sell. It's Christmas time, you know." I was obstinate. Well, I left and came back and then was obstinate. "I'm quitting the jewelry business!" I declared. They finally acquiesed and let me leave. On the way out, they tempted me again. "You know our other jewelry provider is quitting too. We won't have anyone's jewelry to sell." "I'm quitting!" I said, yet again. And so it was done.
The fourth store still has bundles of inventory. They will not be calling me for a while. They should get through Christmas and then some before I have to break the bad news to them. I'm going to leave them dumb and happy for the meantime, and break the news later.
It's hard work, killing a business. Almost as much work as starting one.
Thursday, November 24, 2005
I am Thankful
The transition to the BBB (that would be "Big Boy Bed") went fantastic! We stuck with Junior's nightly routine, only he climbed into his BBB himself, instead of us putting him in the crib.
A couple things helped, I think. His crib was still in the room. And okay, I cheated a bit and shoved one side of the BBB against the crib, effectively making a daybed, with only one open side. I have to confess, the up-over-down-run-around circles he had been practicing on the BBB had me worried!
We also took Baby Tad and put him at the foot of the BBB. Baby Tad (who gets my vote for essential kid gear) is a stuffed frog-doll thing that plays up to six lullabies when you press his paw (who knew frogs had paws?).
After we put Junior into the BBB, kissed him goodnight and set up the new gate across his door (no escapees allowed!), we ran to the monitor and listened. Baby Tad finished his 6 songs. Then we heard "One minute to night-night". Junior had pushed Baby Tad's paw again! And then again. And again. Poor Baby Tad started sounding a big sluggish. "Damn you, Baby Tad, don't go out on us now!" I thought.
Then finally...silence. We had achieved sleep in the BBB. And we were thankful.
A couple things helped, I think. His crib was still in the room. And okay, I cheated a bit and shoved one side of the BBB against the crib, effectively making a daybed, with only one open side. I have to confess, the up-over-down-run-around circles he had been practicing on the BBB had me worried!
We also took Baby Tad and put him at the foot of the BBB. Baby Tad (who gets my vote for essential kid gear) is a stuffed frog-doll thing that plays up to six lullabies when you press his paw (who knew frogs had paws?).
After we put Junior into the BBB, kissed him goodnight and set up the new gate across his door (no escapees allowed!), we ran to the monitor and listened. Baby Tad finished his 6 songs. Then we heard "One minute to night-night". Junior had pushed Baby Tad's paw again! And then again. And again. Poor Baby Tad started sounding a big sluggish. "Damn you, Baby Tad, don't go out on us now!" I thought.
Then finally...silence. We had achieved sleep in the BBB. And we were thankful.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
A New Toy!
It's pretty sad when you get really excited about a mixer. But this isn't just any mixer. Oh no. This is the KitchenAid Artisan 5-speed mixer, baby. With 325 watts of pure mixing power.
I got the cobalt blue color, 'cause I figured if I got a sports car that's what color I'd get. Red is just too showy for me... ;-)
I'm going to whip up all sorts of yummy baked goods with this bad boy.
Vroooooommmm!
Monday, November 21, 2005
Chillin' in the Crib
In the beginning, there was the crib. And the crib was good.
But She-Who-Holds-the-Pediatric-Degree came down from on high.
"The boy is too big," She declared.
"He can climb from the crib."
"He will climb from the crib."
"He will go 'boom'."
And the crib was no longer good.
...and so the Saga of the Big Boy Bed began...
Tonight we put together the Big Boy Bed (hereafter called "BBB" for brevity). We have been "selling" the BBB for the past two weeks, since it arrived in its giant box. We visited the library and checked out books about BBBs. We read the BBB books. Junior started getting excited.
When Loving Husband asked Junior "Would you like to put together your BBB tonight?", he (Junior, that is) ran upstairs and pointed to the big box. He "helped" put together the bed, with lots of "No, Junior"s from Loving Husband. Finally, the BBB was complete.
"You will get to sleep in it in TWO DAYS," we told him.
"I wanna get in it," said Junior. Hmmm....we thought. This is all good, right?
We got the crib mattress from the crib and put it into the new BBB. So cute...it looks like a doll bed.
"Pretend to be asleep," we urged.
He eagerly got in and started circling...like a dog! This was new behavior. Then he started climbing in, circling around, then climbing out the other side. Then repeat. And repeat. And repeat. Faster. Faster. Faster. We started getting dizzy.
"Well, this will be fun!" said LH sarcastically.
Then we went to take the mattress back out and put it back in da crib. "I wanna sleep in Bigboybed!" cried Junior. "In TWO DAYS!" we cried back. "WAAAAAAAAAAA!" he cried. Literally crying now.
We finally settled him down. I think he talked me down to 1 day...I can't be sure...but in the end he was in the crib and settled down.
I guess we are good Marketers, huh? A little too good.
Stay tuned for D-Day, er, BBB-Day. Hopefully the casualties will be low.
But She-Who-Holds-the-Pediatric-Degree came down from on high.
"The boy is too big," She declared.
"He can climb from the crib."
"He will climb from the crib."
"He will go 'boom'."
And the crib was no longer good.
...and so the Saga of the Big Boy Bed began...
Tonight we put together the Big Boy Bed (hereafter called "BBB" for brevity). We have been "selling" the BBB for the past two weeks, since it arrived in its giant box. We visited the library and checked out books about BBBs. We read the BBB books. Junior started getting excited.
When Loving Husband asked Junior "Would you like to put together your BBB tonight?", he (Junior, that is) ran upstairs and pointed to the big box. He "helped" put together the bed, with lots of "No, Junior"s from Loving Husband. Finally, the BBB was complete.
"You will get to sleep in it in TWO DAYS," we told him.
"I wanna get in it," said Junior. Hmmm....we thought. This is all good, right?
We got the crib mattress from the crib and put it into the new BBB. So cute...it looks like a doll bed.
"Pretend to be asleep," we urged.
He eagerly got in and started circling...like a dog! This was new behavior. Then he started climbing in, circling around, then climbing out the other side. Then repeat. And repeat. And repeat. Faster. Faster. Faster. We started getting dizzy.
"Well, this will be fun!" said LH sarcastically.
Then we went to take the mattress back out and put it back in da crib. "I wanna sleep in Bigboybed!" cried Junior. "In TWO DAYS!" we cried back. "WAAAAAAAAAAA!" he cried. Literally crying now.
We finally settled him down. I think he talked me down to 1 day...I can't be sure...but in the end he was in the crib and settled down.
I guess we are good Marketers, huh? A little too good.
Stay tuned for D-Day, er, BBB-Day. Hopefully the casualties will be low.
Friday, November 11, 2005
Thoughts on Football and Life
Anyone who owns a radio or TV in the Kansas City area knows the news: The Kansas City Chiefs have lost their star running back, Priest Holmes, to a neck injury. He took a hard hit in a game two weeks ago and has been examined by several doctors, who came back with the same advice...No hits for 30 days, at least. Since there are only four regular-season games left, this means his season is over.
This is a tough loss, as Holmes is widely considered to be carrying a large portion of the team's weight when it comes to offense. I was listening to a sports radio station the same day this news broke and lots of fans were calling in commisserating about losing our star player. Would the Chiefs still be able to win without Holmes? Would Holmes' backup be able to perform? Would he retire or be back next year? The calls went along these same lines for an excrutiatingly long time.
Then finally some guy called in and said, "Hold up...let's think this from Holmes' viewpoint for a moment. His career could be over!" There is speculation that Holmes has a bruise on his spinal case (not column). These types of bruises do not heal - they are there for life. This guy had actually played semi-pro football, gotten hit in a similiar way as Holmes and had been partially paralyzed. He still did not have 100% use of his upper body. This gave a whole new perspective to the topic. And reminded me of a similiar situation that I went through...
No, I didn't get hit by a 300+ pound lineman, but I did have a serious neck injury. About five years ago, around mid-summer, I started getting some pain near my shoulder blade. A strange little pain that felt like a muscular "knot". Since I was playing volleyball about 3 times per week, I figured I had just over-used a muscle and was sore. Then the tingling started. A weird tingling sensation down my right arm. I started going to my massage therapist bi-weekly to fix the "knot"...to no avail - it kept coming back. Over the next couple of months the tingling got so bad that it actually hurt. I quit playing volleyball, as it was hard to control my arm with all the tingling. I quit sleeping through the night, as I could not find a position that was not painful or that did not put my arm to sleep. Keep in mind that I work on a computer all day...needless to say, this was quite painful too.
I'm not a big fan of doctors, but at this point I figured a doctor's visit was in order.
My doctor ordered an MRI of my neck and shoulders. If you've never had an MRI of your upper body, it's scary as hell. They warned me in advance that if I was claustrophobic, I might not like this. I am. And I did not. I was able to get past being shoved headfirst up to my waist into a tiny, enclosed chamber. I was able to get past the ear-splitting, jackhammer-like thumping that the super-duper magnet makes as it images your body. I was NOT able to get past the pain of lying there on my back for 15 minutes. It hurt that bad just to lay still. I ended up wiggling and they had to repeat the process a second time. Torture.
When I went back to the doctor to hear about the results of my MRI, he scared the living shit out of me. He said I had a herniated cervical disc. He went on to say that I needed surgery to either remove or fuse the disc. He went on to say that I should be extremely careful driving, since any sort of impact could potentially paralyze me. He also mentioned that if I lost control of my bladder that I was to report to an emergency room ASAP, as that might be an indication that the disc had intruded into my spinal column.
...and I thought he would tell me it was a pinched nerve. The fucker really threw me for a loop.
I cried the whole way home. I figured my life as I knew it was over. No more volleyball, no more bike riding, no more sleeping through the night. I was 35 at the time, with a lifetime of plans and goals ahead of me - lots of them physical. It's an understatement to say that this was a gigantic bummer.
As instructed, I reported to the neurosurgeon's office for a consult. This dude, who looked just like Chris Elliott (the mad professor) from "Back to the Future", began by telling me all the bad things that could happen during the surgery. Partial facial paralysis (on side only). Okay, there goes my modeling career - ha! I could need more surgeries. I could lose movement of my neck. I would be in recover for six weeks. Six! As the icing on the cake, he mentioned that, due to how close all the nerves and spinal stuff was, that they make the incision in the FRONT of your neck. He actually made an imaginary "cut" with his finger across his throat. As in "off with her head". Okay, Alice, I'm down the rabbit hole and outta here. I nearly sprained an ankle running out of this crazy dude's office and to my car. I was NOT having my throat cut. No way. I don't like turtlenecks enough to be stuck with them for the rest of my life to cover a scar like that.
More crying in the car. Then worrying that the tears would blur my vision and I would get into a car wreck and be paralyzed. Then hopelessness as I realized that without this surgery, I would have to live with the now ever-present pain and numbness in my arm. This sucked. Then I mentally whacked myself in the head and told myself to start brainstorming. What else could I do? I couldn't live with this. I couldn't get the surgery. What else? What else? An idea came to me...
We had a friend studying to be a chiropractor. We had been camping with him the past spring and he had evangelized how chiropractic care could solve lots of problems that would normally require surgery. I had nothing to lose, so I picked up the phone and called him. I explained the whole deal and he said he would talk to one of his instructors about whether my problem could be solved. He called me back and I got an appointment with his instructor, Dr. T., later that week. At least I knew he wouldn't want to cut me open, so that was a start.
Dr. T. was awesome! After looking at my MRI, he agreed that I indeed had a badly herniated disc. Then he went on to say that it would take about 4 months to get me back to 95% capacity. I had to come see him twice a week for the next few months, then we would take x-rays and see what had changed. This sounded much better than the big, scary knife solution.
Dr. T. gave me homework - buy a beach ball, sit down on the floor with my back to the wall and push the beach ball to the wall with my head. This was horribly painful...but it got easier over time. Dr. T was positive, but tough. He gave me more painful exercises to do. We were moving things around and it was going to be painful. He took me off my pain meds that Dr. #1 had given me, so that they wouldn't "mask" when I was really in pain and when I wasn't.
The first week was very tough. The second week was a bit better. After the first month I actually slept through the night for the first time in about six months. Bliss! As promised, after about 4-1/2 months, I started playing volleyball again. Over the next year, I saw him about once a month, to keep things where they should be.
I am currently pain-free, tingle-free and numbness-free. I know that my disc is not healed. It is a weak spot on me that I am always aware of. I know that there may come a day when I might need that dreaded surgery. I secretly hope that they will have fake disc "gel" that you can inject to puff discs back up to their normal size by then. Don't laugh...they are close on this!
No, I'm not carrying the weight of entire football team on my shoulders, but I do carry the weight of all the dreams and goals that I want to accomplish over my lifetime. And it takes a strong neck to carry those.
This is a tough loss, as Holmes is widely considered to be carrying a large portion of the team's weight when it comes to offense. I was listening to a sports radio station the same day this news broke and lots of fans were calling in commisserating about losing our star player. Would the Chiefs still be able to win without Holmes? Would Holmes' backup be able to perform? Would he retire or be back next year? The calls went along these same lines for an excrutiatingly long time.
Then finally some guy called in and said, "Hold up...let's think this from Holmes' viewpoint for a moment. His career could be over!" There is speculation that Holmes has a bruise on his spinal case (not column). These types of bruises do not heal - they are there for life. This guy had actually played semi-pro football, gotten hit in a similiar way as Holmes and had been partially paralyzed. He still did not have 100% use of his upper body. This gave a whole new perspective to the topic. And reminded me of a similiar situation that I went through...
No, I didn't get hit by a 300+ pound lineman, but I did have a serious neck injury. About five years ago, around mid-summer, I started getting some pain near my shoulder blade. A strange little pain that felt like a muscular "knot". Since I was playing volleyball about 3 times per week, I figured I had just over-used a muscle and was sore. Then the tingling started. A weird tingling sensation down my right arm. I started going to my massage therapist bi-weekly to fix the "knot"...to no avail - it kept coming back. Over the next couple of months the tingling got so bad that it actually hurt. I quit playing volleyball, as it was hard to control my arm with all the tingling. I quit sleeping through the night, as I could not find a position that was not painful or that did not put my arm to sleep. Keep in mind that I work on a computer all day...needless to say, this was quite painful too.
I'm not a big fan of doctors, but at this point I figured a doctor's visit was in order.
My doctor ordered an MRI of my neck and shoulders. If you've never had an MRI of your upper body, it's scary as hell. They warned me in advance that if I was claustrophobic, I might not like this. I am. And I did not. I was able to get past being shoved headfirst up to my waist into a tiny, enclosed chamber. I was able to get past the ear-splitting, jackhammer-like thumping that the super-duper magnet makes as it images your body. I was NOT able to get past the pain of lying there on my back for 15 minutes. It hurt that bad just to lay still. I ended up wiggling and they had to repeat the process a second time. Torture.
When I went back to the doctor to hear about the results of my MRI, he scared the living shit out of me. He said I had a herniated cervical disc. He went on to say that I needed surgery to either remove or fuse the disc. He went on to say that I should be extremely careful driving, since any sort of impact could potentially paralyze me. He also mentioned that if I lost control of my bladder that I was to report to an emergency room ASAP, as that might be an indication that the disc had intruded into my spinal column.
...and I thought he would tell me it was a pinched nerve. The fucker really threw me for a loop.
I cried the whole way home. I figured my life as I knew it was over. No more volleyball, no more bike riding, no more sleeping through the night. I was 35 at the time, with a lifetime of plans and goals ahead of me - lots of them physical. It's an understatement to say that this was a gigantic bummer.
As instructed, I reported to the neurosurgeon's office for a consult. This dude, who looked just like Chris Elliott (the mad professor) from "Back to the Future", began by telling me all the bad things that could happen during the surgery. Partial facial paralysis (on side only). Okay, there goes my modeling career - ha! I could need more surgeries. I could lose movement of my neck. I would be in recover for six weeks. Six! As the icing on the cake, he mentioned that, due to how close all the nerves and spinal stuff was, that they make the incision in the FRONT of your neck. He actually made an imaginary "cut" with his finger across his throat. As in "off with her head". Okay, Alice, I'm down the rabbit hole and outta here. I nearly sprained an ankle running out of this crazy dude's office and to my car. I was NOT having my throat cut. No way. I don't like turtlenecks enough to be stuck with them for the rest of my life to cover a scar like that.
More crying in the car. Then worrying that the tears would blur my vision and I would get into a car wreck and be paralyzed. Then hopelessness as I realized that without this surgery, I would have to live with the now ever-present pain and numbness in my arm. This sucked. Then I mentally whacked myself in the head and told myself to start brainstorming. What else could I do? I couldn't live with this. I couldn't get the surgery. What else? What else? An idea came to me...
We had a friend studying to be a chiropractor. We had been camping with him the past spring and he had evangelized how chiropractic care could solve lots of problems that would normally require surgery. I had nothing to lose, so I picked up the phone and called him. I explained the whole deal and he said he would talk to one of his instructors about whether my problem could be solved. He called me back and I got an appointment with his instructor, Dr. T., later that week. At least I knew he wouldn't want to cut me open, so that was a start.
Dr. T. was awesome! After looking at my MRI, he agreed that I indeed had a badly herniated disc. Then he went on to say that it would take about 4 months to get me back to 95% capacity. I had to come see him twice a week for the next few months, then we would take x-rays and see what had changed. This sounded much better than the big, scary knife solution.
Dr. T. gave me homework - buy a beach ball, sit down on the floor with my back to the wall and push the beach ball to the wall with my head. This was horribly painful...but it got easier over time. Dr. T was positive, but tough. He gave me more painful exercises to do. We were moving things around and it was going to be painful. He took me off my pain meds that Dr. #1 had given me, so that they wouldn't "mask" when I was really in pain and when I wasn't.
The first week was very tough. The second week was a bit better. After the first month I actually slept through the night for the first time in about six months. Bliss! As promised, after about 4-1/2 months, I started playing volleyball again. Over the next year, I saw him about once a month, to keep things where they should be.
I am currently pain-free, tingle-free and numbness-free. I know that my disc is not healed. It is a weak spot on me that I am always aware of. I know that there may come a day when I might need that dreaded surgery. I secretly hope that they will have fake disc "gel" that you can inject to puff discs back up to their normal size by then. Don't laugh...they are close on this!
No, I'm not carrying the weight of entire football team on my shoulders, but I do carry the weight of all the dreams and goals that I want to accomplish over my lifetime. And it takes a strong neck to carry those.
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
Trickertreat!
Ah, the joy of discovery! Ah, the pain of candy meltdown!
...such is Halloween in the Casa de Goofy.
Goofy Junior, so cute in his little vampire costume, ventured out for a fun-filled night of trick or treating. He was tentative at the first house, but Mommy (that would be me) had done some role-playing with him the night before, so he knew the routine.
Me: Junior, do you know what trick or treating is?
Jr: (blank stare)
Me: It's when we go to other people's houses, and knock on their door. (mimes knocking)
Jr: (blank stare)
Me: And then they open the door (mime opening door) and you say "trick or treat"
Jr: trickertreat!
Me: Then they give you candy in your pumpkin.
Jr: My purse?
Me: No, honey, it's not a purse, it's a pumpkin. Stop calling it a purse or Daddy will kill me.
Jr: (blank stare)
Me: So, they give you candy and what do you say?
Jr: thank you...?
Me: YES!
Jr: kidneys!* trickertreat! my purse!
Me (thinking): Okay, at least he won't be scared...
And, of course, he wasn't scared. He was the opposite! He was knocking on the doors, helping himself to candy, waving goodbye. After the second house, we turned around to walk down the stairs and he said, "I wanna do another one". I chuckled. Then he said it after every house, alternating with "no go home yet".
After going all the way down our street and working our way back, I began to worry about the reprecussions of returning home. But I can think like a toddler (it's my secret super-hero talent...or maybe just my IQ).
Me: Okay, one more house and then we are done (cheerfully!)
Jr: Okay.
Me (after one more house): Where's our house?
Jr: There (points). No go home yet! (shaking head "no")
Me: Hey! I have an idea!
Jr: Huh?
Me: You knock on our own door and see if Daddy gives you candy. I'll bet he won't know it's you in your costume! (daycare-level cheerfulness now)
Jr: Okay! (he's digging this idea)
Me: I'll wait around the corner here....go knock on the door.
Jr: (big smile. goes and knocks on door)
Goofy Daddy (getting the idea, God love him): Hey, Happy Halloween little boy! Would you like some candy?
Jr: Trickertreat!
I come around the corner and take off Junior's vampire-ear-hat, to reveal his secret identity.
GD: OH! It's you Junior! Give me a hug! (and picks him up and carries him into the house)
Postscript: We needn't have worried...Junior liked giving out candy to the trick or treaters that came to our house even more than trick or treating.
* "kidneys" is "candy" in Goofy Juniorese
...such is Halloween in the Casa de Goofy.
Goofy Junior, so cute in his little vampire costume, ventured out for a fun-filled night of trick or treating. He was tentative at the first house, but Mommy (that would be me) had done some role-playing with him the night before, so he knew the routine.
Me: Junior, do you know what trick or treating is?
Jr: (blank stare)
Me: It's when we go to other people's houses, and knock on their door. (mimes knocking)
Jr: (blank stare)
Me: And then they open the door (mime opening door) and you say "trick or treat"
Jr: trickertreat!
Me: Then they give you candy in your pumpkin.
Jr: My purse?
Me: No, honey, it's not a purse, it's a pumpkin. Stop calling it a purse or Daddy will kill me.
Jr: (blank stare)
Me: So, they give you candy and what do you say?
Jr: thank you...?
Me: YES!
Jr: kidneys!* trickertreat! my purse!
Me (thinking): Okay, at least he won't be scared...
And, of course, he wasn't scared. He was the opposite! He was knocking on the doors, helping himself to candy, waving goodbye. After the second house, we turned around to walk down the stairs and he said, "I wanna do another one". I chuckled. Then he said it after every house, alternating with "no go home yet".
After going all the way down our street and working our way back, I began to worry about the reprecussions of returning home. But I can think like a toddler (it's my secret super-hero talent...or maybe just my IQ).
Me: Okay, one more house and then we are done (cheerfully!)
Jr: Okay.
Me (after one more house): Where's our house?
Jr: There (points). No go home yet! (shaking head "no")
Me: Hey! I have an idea!
Jr: Huh?
Me: You knock on our own door and see if Daddy gives you candy. I'll bet he won't know it's you in your costume! (daycare-level cheerfulness now)
Jr: Okay! (he's digging this idea)
Me: I'll wait around the corner here....go knock on the door.
Jr: (big smile. goes and knocks on door)
Goofy Daddy (getting the idea, God love him): Hey, Happy Halloween little boy! Would you like some candy?
Jr: Trickertreat!
I come around the corner and take off Junior's vampire-ear-hat, to reveal his secret identity.
GD: OH! It's you Junior! Give me a hug! (and picks him up and carries him into the house)
Postscript: We needn't have worried...Junior liked giving out candy to the trick or treaters that came to our house even more than trick or treating.
* "kidneys" is "candy" in Goofy Juniorese
Thursday, October 27, 2005
The Haunted Smoke Detector
Ugh. We got woken up this morning at 3:00am!
No, Junior didn't wake us up.
No, we didn't get a frantic call from a drunken friend.
No, a dog didn't bark to be let outside to pee.
Our smoke detector went off. Slowly. First one "chirp", then silence. This, of course woke my light-sleeping ass up right away. I thought I had imagined it and drifted back off. Then another "chiiiiiiiirp", a bit longer this time. I realized what it was and jumped out of bed.
What to do?
I stared at the smoke detector. It wasn't talking.
Hmmmm..... I scratched my head and got back into bed.
"Chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirp....chirp......chirp", it said.
Now both Hubbie and I jumped out of bed to stare at the smoke detector. It was silent. He got a chair out and stood on it to get a closer look at the offending plastic gadget. I went downstairs to investigate. Computers smoking? Nope. Oven off? Yep. Cars on fire? Nope. Heater smoking? Nope.
Baffled, I went back upstairs and got back into bed.
"Chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirp! Chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirp!" "Chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirp!" Now it wasn't quitting.
Oh, our ears. Oh no! Goofy Junior might wake up! Oh crap!
Hubbie ran downstairs to go for the breaker. It's one of those smoke detectors that doesn't have a battery - it's hooked into our electric system, not a great feature at this point.
I got on the chair and held my ears while I inspected the devilish thing. I hit it several times (my standby solution to things that don't work right), to no avail, then tried pressing on various points, thinking maybe something had come loose. About that same time, it went off.
Whew! Hubbie got the breaker switched. My ears were ringing. Luckily, Junior was still sawing logs. Unbelievable, since all this happened right outside his door!
We left the damn thing hanging from the ceiling and went back to bed. In the morning, I found out that Hubbie had not switched the breaker...there is no breaker for it! How the hell do we switch it off!?!?!?
So I'm hoping we won't have a repeat performance at 3:00am this morning. Or Saturday morning. Or Sunday morning.
No, Junior didn't wake us up.
No, we didn't get a frantic call from a drunken friend.
No, a dog didn't bark to be let outside to pee.
Our smoke detector went off. Slowly. First one "chirp", then silence. This, of course woke my light-sleeping ass up right away. I thought I had imagined it and drifted back off. Then another "chiiiiiiiirp", a bit longer this time. I realized what it was and jumped out of bed.
What to do?
I stared at the smoke detector. It wasn't talking.
Hmmmm..... I scratched my head and got back into bed.
"Chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirp....chirp......chirp", it said.
Now both Hubbie and I jumped out of bed to stare at the smoke detector. It was silent. He got a chair out and stood on it to get a closer look at the offending plastic gadget. I went downstairs to investigate. Computers smoking? Nope. Oven off? Yep. Cars on fire? Nope. Heater smoking? Nope.
Baffled, I went back upstairs and got back into bed.
"Chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirp! Chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirp!" "Chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirp!" Now it wasn't quitting.
Oh, our ears. Oh no! Goofy Junior might wake up! Oh crap!
Hubbie ran downstairs to go for the breaker. It's one of those smoke detectors that doesn't have a battery - it's hooked into our electric system, not a great feature at this point.
I got on the chair and held my ears while I inspected the devilish thing. I hit it several times (my standby solution to things that don't work right), to no avail, then tried pressing on various points, thinking maybe something had come loose. About that same time, it went off.
Whew! Hubbie got the breaker switched. My ears were ringing. Luckily, Junior was still sawing logs. Unbelievable, since all this happened right outside his door!
We left the damn thing hanging from the ceiling and went back to bed. In the morning, I found out that Hubbie had not switched the breaker...there is no breaker for it! How the hell do we switch it off!?!?!?
So I'm hoping we won't have a repeat performance at 3:00am this morning. Or Saturday morning. Or Sunday morning.
Friday, October 21, 2005
Oeuf Oeuf!
So after the voices of reason spoke to me (thanks commentors!), I am changing directions and looking at toddler beds for our darling Goofy Not-so-Junior.
I fired up Google and tried "toddler bed". These first attempts yielded me the obnoxious race car/firetruck/princess castle beds. Ugh. Does our child have to be constantly bombarded with bright primary colors and shapes...even when he sleeps? How about "No". Shocking opinion, I know...
I pulled up Google and tried "modern toddler bed", hoping for some semblance of style for poor Junior. Well I got style alright, complete with a very large price tag - $500 for the Petra toddler bed (on "sale" for $397!). What a bargain! NOT!
I looked further and found the Oeuf Oeuf toddler bed. "Oeuf oeuf" must mean "overpriced, plain white bed" in French. This one was $480. I don't think we spent that much on our last queen-sized bed!
Also keep in mind that these prices do not include the damn mattress.
Then another voice of reason spoke...Loving Husband. These words came out of his mouth: "You know, the best thing about some of these beds is the bedding." Hmmm.... Here's an idea: Get a plain-Jane bed and put some kick ass bedding on it. Voila! Folks, we have a plan!
I found a simple-though-stylist white bed on Amazon.com for $79. While I still think this is a bit high, I can probably drive down to my local Babies R Us store and save the shipping cost. This makes me smile.
Then I thought about eBay. I buy everything on eBay, so why not a toddler bed? As I suspected, there were a few toddler beds out on eBay. Try 727 of them!
My first search was for "toddler bed". I didn't want to search through all 727 results, so I started modifying my search. I have kind of an obsession with this, so be forewarned...
So, I went from:
"toddler bed"
to
"toddler bed -sheets -car -cottage -sheet -bedding -"bed set" -crib -princess -girl -girls -pink -hearts -fire -train -winnie -dora -wiggles -pokemon -castle -nemo -batman -beetle -mickey -bear -racecar -incontinent -ark -bob -spongebob -veggie -flower -tractor -coupe -clifford -roadster -jeep"
That got me down to a more manageable 137 items (2 pages). And I would have further modified, but goshdarnit, eBay limits the number of characters you can put in that search box to...well...however many I have there. Who knew?
And for those of you that are curious, I did find 2 of the Amazon.com beds, for a fraction of the price. However, I have to either go to Allen, Texas or Sarasota, Florida to pick it up. With gas prices like they are, now we are back up in the Petra bed range. Oeuf!
I fired up Google and tried "toddler bed". These first attempts yielded me the obnoxious race car/firetruck/princess castle beds. Ugh. Does our child have to be constantly bombarded with bright primary colors and shapes...even when he sleeps? How about "No". Shocking opinion, I know...
I pulled up Google and tried "modern toddler bed", hoping for some semblance of style for poor Junior. Well I got style alright, complete with a very large price tag - $500 for the Petra toddler bed (on "sale" for $397!). What a bargain! NOT!
I looked further and found the Oeuf Oeuf toddler bed. "Oeuf oeuf" must mean "overpriced, plain white bed" in French. This one was $480. I don't think we spent that much on our last queen-sized bed!
Also keep in mind that these prices do not include the damn mattress.
Then another voice of reason spoke...Loving Husband. These words came out of his mouth: "You know, the best thing about some of these beds is the bedding." Hmmm.... Here's an idea: Get a plain-Jane bed and put some kick ass bedding on it. Voila! Folks, we have a plan!
I found a simple-though-stylist white bed on Amazon.com for $79. While I still think this is a bit high, I can probably drive down to my local Babies R Us store and save the shipping cost. This makes me smile.
Then I thought about eBay. I buy everything on eBay, so why not a toddler bed? As I suspected, there were a few toddler beds out on eBay. Try 727 of them!
My first search was for "toddler bed". I didn't want to search through all 727 results, so I started modifying my search. I have kind of an obsession with this, so be forewarned...
So, I went from:
"toddler bed"
to
"toddler bed -sheets -car -cottage -sheet -bedding -"bed set" -crib -princess -girl -girls -pink -hearts -fire -train -winnie -dora -wiggles -pokemon -castle -nemo -batman -beetle -mickey -bear -racecar -incontinent -ark -bob -spongebob -veggie -flower -tractor -coupe -clifford -roadster -jeep"
That got me down to a more manageable 137 items (2 pages). And I would have further modified, but goshdarnit, eBay limits the number of characters you can put in that search box to...well...however many I have there. Who knew?
And for those of you that are curious, I did find 2 of the Amazon.com beds, for a fraction of the price. However, I have to either go to Allen, Texas or Sarasota, Florida to pick it up. With gas prices like they are, now we are back up in the Petra bed range. Oeuf!
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
It's the End of the World as We Know It....
and I don't feel fine. I feel pretty fucking nervous.
Goofy Junior is now officially 2-1/2 years old and 36" tall. Why is this important? Because he is now officially "too big" for the crib he currently sleeps in*.
The crib that keeps him warm and safe and best of all contained so that when he:
a) doesn't want to go to bed;
b) wakes up early;
c) wakes up in the night; or
d) screams through his nap,
we can feel confident that we can effectively ignore him until:
a) he gives in and goes to sleep;
b) we are ready to get up;
c) he falls back asleep; or
d) we give up and get the screaming child that will 15 minutes later fall asleep in the car.
Freedom....Gone! History. This really sucks. But it's inevitable, so we are dealing. Slowly.
The biggest decision right now is a new bed. There are multiple ways to go on this one...
Do we:
a) convert the crib to a "toddler day bed" (kind of a daybed with sides so sleeping toddler does not roll onto floor and wake self and rest of household)
b) buy a toddler bed (a lower, short bed with short sides, kinda like a giant litter box**)
c) buy a full-blown twin bed (if you don't know what this is, stop reading now)
An informal survey of other parents (okay, only two) leads me to believe that folks just jump to option c) twin bed. Of course, of all the options, this is the most expensive. Double damn!
I personally like my own option, call it d) if you will....get a kid-sized pup tent and put it up in place of the crib. Before you mock, listen up!
What kid wouldn't want a tent to sleep in every night? It's fun! Yet, it's contained. No, we wouldn't zip him in there. ...Well, not if he was cooperative about sleeping in there. It's low to the ground - if he rolls out, he's just on the floor and probably wouldn't even wake up. It doesn't take up much room (unlike twin bed, which we don't have room for). It's roomy. He can roll around in there and sleep in whatever position he wants, with as many stuffed friends as he wants. Plus there's the added bonus that when we go camping, he already relates a tent to sleeping. I think it's a great idea. However, I keep getting "Did you just fall off the face of the sun?" looks when I mention this to people.
I'm not getting a stupid race car bed. I'm not! I'm not! Absolutely NOT! Never!
* This is not an unbiased opinion...this comes straight for our All Knowing/All Seeing Pediatrician. Damn her!
** Speaking of litter box, there's the whole potty training issue looming large in the Goofy household. More blogging fun to come on that topic!
Goofy Junior is now officially 2-1/2 years old and 36" tall. Why is this important? Because he is now officially "too big" for the crib he currently sleeps in*.
The crib that keeps him warm and safe and best of all contained so that when he:
a) doesn't want to go to bed;
b) wakes up early;
c) wakes up in the night; or
d) screams through his nap,
we can feel confident that we can effectively ignore him until:
a) he gives in and goes to sleep;
b) we are ready to get up;
c) he falls back asleep; or
d) we give up and get the screaming child that will 15 minutes later fall asleep in the car.
Freedom....Gone! History. This really sucks. But it's inevitable, so we are dealing. Slowly.
The biggest decision right now is a new bed. There are multiple ways to go on this one...
Do we:
a) convert the crib to a "toddler day bed" (kind of a daybed with sides so sleeping toddler does not roll onto floor and wake self and rest of household)
b) buy a toddler bed (a lower, short bed with short sides, kinda like a giant litter box**)
c) buy a full-blown twin bed (if you don't know what this is, stop reading now)
An informal survey of other parents (okay, only two) leads me to believe that folks just jump to option c) twin bed. Of course, of all the options, this is the most expensive. Double damn!
I personally like my own option, call it d) if you will....get a kid-sized pup tent and put it up in place of the crib. Before you mock, listen up!
What kid wouldn't want a tent to sleep in every night? It's fun! Yet, it's contained. No, we wouldn't zip him in there. ...Well, not if he was cooperative about sleeping in there. It's low to the ground - if he rolls out, he's just on the floor and probably wouldn't even wake up. It doesn't take up much room (unlike twin bed, which we don't have room for). It's roomy. He can roll around in there and sleep in whatever position he wants, with as many stuffed friends as he wants. Plus there's the added bonus that when we go camping, he already relates a tent to sleeping. I think it's a great idea. However, I keep getting "Did you just fall off the face of the sun?" looks when I mention this to people.
I'm not getting a stupid race car bed. I'm not! I'm not! Absolutely NOT! Never!
* This is not an unbiased opinion...this comes straight for our All Knowing/All Seeing Pediatrician. Damn her!
** Speaking of litter box, there's the whole potty training issue looming large in the Goofy household. More blogging fun to come on that topic!
Friday, October 14, 2005
A True Adventure: Priceless (Part 2)
We join our adventure in progress as our heroines ponder the fate of their beloved guide A.
D. fires up the satellite phone and calls the emergency number. She gets voicemail and leaves a message. She then instructs us to grab some gear - we are hiking down the canyon to see if we can find A. Since she should have been hiking IN that way, we will hike OUT that way and hopefully meet up with her. Since we don't know why she is not back, we bring a sleeping pad (in case she needs to be dragged back), food and water (in case she has none), clothes (in case she is cold/wet) and headlamps (since it will be dark very, very soon). We all try not to be too freaked out by this preparation.
It takes us way too long to get ready, but finally we are on our way. We scramble down the rocks to the canyon and our heads swivel as we look around for any sign of A. D. is hiking fast now, trying to get to the exit of the canyon before dark. We struggle to keep up, still freaked out and soggy from the prior rain. We listen intently for any noise that might signal A. somewhere in the canyon....maybe hurt...maybe unconscious.
D. frantically looks for footprints. Since it rained, this is not as easy as it sounds. She doesn't see any footprints coming in. We try to take this bad news in stride.
Finally, we traverse the switchbacks that take us out of the canyon to the parking lot. Two hours had passed. No sign of A. yet. We wonder if the van will be there. We wonder if A. will be there...maybe in the van, smoking a cig and having a beer?
We switch on our headlamps and fire up our flashlights, as it's now officially dark. There's no sign of the moon and the storm clouds are rolling back in. It's very, very dark. And there's no sign of the van. D. leaves another voicemail on the emergency number. Everyone wonders about the effectiveness of the sat phone, since there's no one answering the other end.
D. decides that we will hike to the other side of the rim by the parking lot, where we can see our campsite and see if we can see any lights there. Maybe A. has mysteriously snuck back to camp and is roasting marshmallows and wondering where the hell WE are. This proves to be a big waste of time. The rain starts to pour. It starts to get cold. We stop to add layers of clothes and put on rainpants, hoods and - for those smart enough to bring them (i.e., not me) - gloves. We get out to the rim and don't see anything. Like I said...waste of time.
Now we have a problem finding our way back to the trailhead from the rim. It looked like a straight line out, but now it looks like a vast field going back. The rain is still pouring down and D. is having problems finding our footprints we left just minutes before. She switches headlamps with me (mine is brighter). This helps minimally. We eventually get back to our starting place at the exit of the canyon. Whew. Then the mutiny starts....
"What!?!? We are going back to camp?"
"Why?"
"I'm worried about flooding"
"I'm worried about twisting my ankle in the dark."
"I'm cold."
"Let's find the van and stay there."
"Let's find a hotel."
D. wasn't prepared for this (surprisingly). Her advice was for us to hike back to camp. It made sense after she explained it... Camp is warm and dry. All our stuff is there. If A. somehow made it back there, we should be there to help and/or welcome her. We need to take care of ourselves first, then worry about A. second. And yes, there was the fact that the VAN WAS GONE. Duh. We spent way too long discussing this and unruffling feathers before heading back down into the canyon. I wasn't excited about hiking back in, but I didn't see any other option. So into the pitch black night and drizzling rain we hiked. Back down the canyon, up the rocks and back to camp.
D. got back on the sat phone and actually reached someone this time. A. was okay! She had indeed been to the canyon exit, as planned, but was unable to find the trail into the canyon (it was a very confusing way in). She tried for several hours (!!!) before getting back in the van and heading into town to call the emergency number. She luckily had the contact's mobile phone number, while D. had the contact's home phone number. As luck would have it, the contact was not home, so had not gotten any of D.'s messages. D. called A.'s mobile phone and let her know the story. She decided to sleep in the van and hike in Sunday morning to help us pack up and hike back out.
After a quick dinner (it was now about midnight), we crawled into our tents and slept well, knowing that our comrade was safe and sound.
D. fires up the satellite phone and calls the emergency number. She gets voicemail and leaves a message. She then instructs us to grab some gear - we are hiking down the canyon to see if we can find A. Since she should have been hiking IN that way, we will hike OUT that way and hopefully meet up with her. Since we don't know why she is not back, we bring a sleeping pad (in case she needs to be dragged back), food and water (in case she has none), clothes (in case she is cold/wet) and headlamps (since it will be dark very, very soon). We all try not to be too freaked out by this preparation.
It takes us way too long to get ready, but finally we are on our way. We scramble down the rocks to the canyon and our heads swivel as we look around for any sign of A. D. is hiking fast now, trying to get to the exit of the canyon before dark. We struggle to keep up, still freaked out and soggy from the prior rain. We listen intently for any noise that might signal A. somewhere in the canyon....maybe hurt...maybe unconscious.
D. frantically looks for footprints. Since it rained, this is not as easy as it sounds. She doesn't see any footprints coming in. We try to take this bad news in stride.
Finally, we traverse the switchbacks that take us out of the canyon to the parking lot. Two hours had passed. No sign of A. yet. We wonder if the van will be there. We wonder if A. will be there...maybe in the van, smoking a cig and having a beer?
We switch on our headlamps and fire up our flashlights, as it's now officially dark. There's no sign of the moon and the storm clouds are rolling back in. It's very, very dark. And there's no sign of the van. D. leaves another voicemail on the emergency number. Everyone wonders about the effectiveness of the sat phone, since there's no one answering the other end.
D. decides that we will hike to the other side of the rim by the parking lot, where we can see our campsite and see if we can see any lights there. Maybe A. has mysteriously snuck back to camp and is roasting marshmallows and wondering where the hell WE are. This proves to be a big waste of time. The rain starts to pour. It starts to get cold. We stop to add layers of clothes and put on rainpants, hoods and - for those smart enough to bring them (i.e., not me) - gloves. We get out to the rim and don't see anything. Like I said...waste of time.
Now we have a problem finding our way back to the trailhead from the rim. It looked like a straight line out, but now it looks like a vast field going back. The rain is still pouring down and D. is having problems finding our footprints we left just minutes before. She switches headlamps with me (mine is brighter). This helps minimally. We eventually get back to our starting place at the exit of the canyon. Whew. Then the mutiny starts....
"What!?!? We are going back to camp?"
"Why?"
"I'm worried about flooding"
"I'm worried about twisting my ankle in the dark."
"I'm cold."
"Let's find the van and stay there."
"Let's find a hotel."
D. wasn't prepared for this (surprisingly). Her advice was for us to hike back to camp. It made sense after she explained it... Camp is warm and dry. All our stuff is there. If A. somehow made it back there, we should be there to help and/or welcome her. We need to take care of ourselves first, then worry about A. second. And yes, there was the fact that the VAN WAS GONE. Duh. We spent way too long discussing this and unruffling feathers before heading back down into the canyon. I wasn't excited about hiking back in, but I didn't see any other option. So into the pitch black night and drizzling rain we hiked. Back down the canyon, up the rocks and back to camp.
D. got back on the sat phone and actually reached someone this time. A. was okay! She had indeed been to the canyon exit, as planned, but was unable to find the trail into the canyon (it was a very confusing way in). She tried for several hours (!!!) before getting back in the van and heading into town to call the emergency number. She luckily had the contact's mobile phone number, while D. had the contact's home phone number. As luck would have it, the contact was not home, so had not gotten any of D.'s messages. D. called A.'s mobile phone and let her know the story. She decided to sleep in the van and hike in Sunday morning to help us pack up and hike back out.
After a quick dinner (it was now about midnight), we crawled into our tents and slept well, knowing that our comrade was safe and sound.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
A True Adventure: Priceless (Part 1)
I headed off on my 4-day/3-night backpacking trip to Moab, Utah last Wednesday. I got into beautiful and quaint (aka small) Grand Junction, Colorado around 1:30pm. The trip was not scheduled to start until the following morning at 9:00am, so I had some time to kill. I had a map of the wine country in Palisades (about 8 miles away), so I rented a car and headed to some wineries. I was pleasantly surprised! They had "normal" wine (Cab Sav, Chardonnay, Syrah) rather than the expected apple-berry wine and mead. And it was darn good, for the most part.
After three wineries, I decided that I needed to grab some dinner, so I headed to downtown Grand Junction. This was a 7-block strip of really neat little stores (most of which were unfortunately closed by 6:00m on a Wednesday) and some interested restaurants (French, Italian, New World). I picked a nice-looking Italian restaurant and feasted on Chicken Scallopino with sun-dried tomatoes, black olives, and spinach in a gongonzola cream sauce. It was delish! I was definitely going to need plenty of carbs for my upcoming energy expenditure! I headed back to the tidy Best Western and tucked in early, about 10:30pm.
We all gathered and headed out Thursday morning (7 participants and 2 guides - all women) for a 2-hour drive to the canyonlands of Moab, Utah. There we packed up our backpacks with gear and provisions until they were taller than us and headed down the trail.
We camped on an outcropping of slickrock the first night. It was a beautiful night and it seemed that there were no bugs to speak of in the area, so we camped out without tents, under the stars. Let me tell you - once you get away from metro areas, there are a hell of a lot of stars!
In the morning, we hiked down to the stream to get some water, learned how to treat it so it was drinkable and headed out for a day hike to the sixth largest arch in the country - Morning Glory Arch. It was spectacular! We also found some cacti with purple fruit and one of our guides D. showed us how to peel and eat the fruit. I ended up with tiny, annoying stickers in 8 of 10 fingers, the roof of my mouth and my lip. Where else can you have this much fun?
When we got back to camp, we packed up and headed to Camp #2, where we would stay for the next two nights. It was further into the canyon and we had to scramble up some large rocks to get to the top. Once we got there, we were greeted with an unbelievable view of the canyon below, rock outcroppings all around and the San Juan mountains in the far distance (with snow on the peaks!). Camp #2 was a very large plateau (probably about 1/4 mile across), with varying level of rock "shelves". Instead of sleeping all together in the same area, we were encouraged to venture out and find our own solo camping spot. Since we were still within sight of the main gathering area, this wasn't as intimidating as you might think.
I was slightly bummed that I didn't bring a book to read - almost everyone else did - but actually it was nice to just have time to think and stare at the stars. You don't realize how little time there is in our regular schedule to just stop and ponder life. It was a real treat.
The next morning, I awoke to a small platoon of ants, trying to figure out WTF I was doing on their rock. I blew them away, did some stretching and went down for some breakfast.
After breakfast, we packed up our daypacks (I had to use my sleeping bag's stuff sack, since I didn't bring a daypack...arg!) and headed further down the canyon to check out some "swimming holes". Since it was 75 - 80 degrees during the day, and very dry, that sounded good to all of us.
That morning, our second guide A. packed up a pack to hike out to get our van and drive it around to the other side of the canyon, so we could hike out the other end, and not have to backtrack to get out. She left around noon.
Around 4:00pm, some ominous clouds rolled in and we headed back to camp to brace for the storm. We set up tents and one kept blowing away, from the high winds. The pouring rain and lightning started and we scurried into our tents to escape. After about an hour of rain and high wind, it was over. We came back out and started wondering where our guide A. was. Since it was about 5:00pm, she had been gone for 5 hours for a trip that should have taken her about 2 hours. We all started getting concerned about what had happened to her...
Stay tuned for Part Two...
After three wineries, I decided that I needed to grab some dinner, so I headed to downtown Grand Junction. This was a 7-block strip of really neat little stores (most of which were unfortunately closed by 6:00m on a Wednesday) and some interested restaurants (French, Italian, New World). I picked a nice-looking Italian restaurant and feasted on Chicken Scallopino with sun-dried tomatoes, black olives, and spinach in a gongonzola cream sauce. It was delish! I was definitely going to need plenty of carbs for my upcoming energy expenditure! I headed back to the tidy Best Western and tucked in early, about 10:30pm.
We all gathered and headed out Thursday morning (7 participants and 2 guides - all women) for a 2-hour drive to the canyonlands of Moab, Utah. There we packed up our backpacks with gear and provisions until they were taller than us and headed down the trail.
We camped on an outcropping of slickrock the first night. It was a beautiful night and it seemed that there were no bugs to speak of in the area, so we camped out without tents, under the stars. Let me tell you - once you get away from metro areas, there are a hell of a lot of stars!
In the morning, we hiked down to the stream to get some water, learned how to treat it so it was drinkable and headed out for a day hike to the sixth largest arch in the country - Morning Glory Arch. It was spectacular! We also found some cacti with purple fruit and one of our guides D. showed us how to peel and eat the fruit. I ended up with tiny, annoying stickers in 8 of 10 fingers, the roof of my mouth and my lip. Where else can you have this much fun?
When we got back to camp, we packed up and headed to Camp #2, where we would stay for the next two nights. It was further into the canyon and we had to scramble up some large rocks to get to the top. Once we got there, we were greeted with an unbelievable view of the canyon below, rock outcroppings all around and the San Juan mountains in the far distance (with snow on the peaks!). Camp #2 was a very large plateau (probably about 1/4 mile across), with varying level of rock "shelves". Instead of sleeping all together in the same area, we were encouraged to venture out and find our own solo camping spot. Since we were still within sight of the main gathering area, this wasn't as intimidating as you might think.
I was slightly bummed that I didn't bring a book to read - almost everyone else did - but actually it was nice to just have time to think and stare at the stars. You don't realize how little time there is in our regular schedule to just stop and ponder life. It was a real treat.
The next morning, I awoke to a small platoon of ants, trying to figure out WTF I was doing on their rock. I blew them away, did some stretching and went down for some breakfast.
After breakfast, we packed up our daypacks (I had to use my sleeping bag's stuff sack, since I didn't bring a daypack...arg!) and headed further down the canyon to check out some "swimming holes". Since it was 75 - 80 degrees during the day, and very dry, that sounded good to all of us.
That morning, our second guide A. packed up a pack to hike out to get our van and drive it around to the other side of the canyon, so we could hike out the other end, and not have to backtrack to get out. She left around noon.
Around 4:00pm, some ominous clouds rolled in and we headed back to camp to brace for the storm. We set up tents and one kept blowing away, from the high winds. The pouring rain and lightning started and we scurried into our tents to escape. After about an hour of rain and high wind, it was over. We came back out and started wondering where our guide A. was. Since it was about 5:00pm, she had been gone for 5 hours for a trip that should have taken her about 2 hours. We all started getting concerned about what had happened to her...
Stay tuned for Part Two...
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
How Scary is This?
I have no idea what to dress Goofy Junior as for Halloween. I have 26 days to figure this out. Well, actually 19, since I will be gone for the next 5 days. And really I can't count Monday, as there is no daycare for Columbus Day (WTF!) and I will be frazzled after watching Junior during the AM, then running to work in the PM after the babysitter comes. And Loving Husband is going out of town one weekend in October, so now we are down to only 16 days in which to ponder this.
It shouldn't be this hard. I love Halloween and I love dressing up. However, I've never been responsible for someone else's costume before. This is new territory.
Some background: Goofy Junior is male, 2-1/2 years old. Average sized. He loves sports, especially football, but how lame is it to dress your kid is something he wears every Friday (football jersey? Yawn.
I have done a bit of looking around. Most toddler costumes are:
too cute and fluffy;
a character he's never heard of; or
just plain ridiculous.
I want something that he's going to be excited about, look cute as, and be comfortable in. Try being comfortable in this!
AND, it's also got to be easy for Mom to put together. I do not sew, so do not recommend some crazy sewing pattern. I am fairly dangerous with a hot glue gun, having put together a Dorothy from Wizard of Oz costume (complete with red sparkly shoes!) with only a glue gun and some fabric.
Help!
It shouldn't be this hard. I love Halloween and I love dressing up. However, I've never been responsible for someone else's costume before. This is new territory.
Some background: Goofy Junior is male, 2-1/2 years old. Average sized. He loves sports, especially football, but how lame is it to dress your kid is something he wears every Friday (football jersey? Yawn.
I have done a bit of looking around. Most toddler costumes are:
too cute and fluffy;
a character he's never heard of; or
just plain ridiculous.
So, dear readers, I'm asking for advice. What should Goofy Junior be for Halloween?
I want something that he's going to be excited about, look cute as, and be comfortable in. Try being comfortable in this!
AND, it's also got to be easy for Mom to put together. I do not sew, so do not recommend some crazy sewing pattern. I am fairly dangerous with a hot glue gun, having put together a Dorothy from Wizard of Oz costume (complete with red sparkly shoes!) with only a glue gun and some fabric.
Help!
Welcome Back, See You Later!
In a scheduling haze, I signed up for a 4-day backpacking trip to Moab, Utah that leaves TWO DAYS after returning home from Las Vegas. I'm not even sure I can call it "two days" since we actually walked in our house at 2:00am Monday morning.
I now have to unpack, launder my party clothes and re-pack hiking clothes for a flight out Wednesday morning. I sound like I'm complaining, but actually I love traveling, so it's all good.
Our Vegas trip was great! We had a less-than-perfect experience the last time we went to Vegas, since we stayed at The Venetian and couldn't afford to do anything. The room was lovely, though.
This time, in an effort to save money for the really important stuff (gambling, eating, drinking), we stayed at The Sahara. The Sahara was a bit shabby and had smoky undertones, but in the scope of things it was a decent place to stay. They had $3 tables during the day and $5 tables at night (in contrast to the $15 tables all the time at The Venetian).
We also ventured to downtown Vegas, which has really improved. Instead of the blue-haired seniors that I remember the last time I visited, there were many, many younger folks, and plenty of them. The casinos were hopping, with cheap tables that weren't too crowded. We found a dealer that very patiently taught us how to play Roulette and we all WON. Cool! I walked up to a $3 Craps table and the same guy rolled for about 40 minutes. If that doesn't make sense to you, just know that it's virtually unheard of to have the same person roll for that long). I won $72. I should have won more, but I was a little slow to increase my bet from $3 to $5. Cheap Ass!
My football wagers didn't turn out quit so well. I won betting on the Chiefs (who WERE winning at half-time, even though they blew it later), then lost on Vikings, Cowboys and Jets.
No celebrity sightings and no shows, but I had a good enough time to want to go back. I will probably take a look at staying downtown if we go back, as that's were we ended up spending most of our time.
Next stop: Moab, Utah. Stay tuned!
I now have to unpack, launder my party clothes and re-pack hiking clothes for a flight out Wednesday morning. I sound like I'm complaining, but actually I love traveling, so it's all good.
Our Vegas trip was great! We had a less-than-perfect experience the last time we went to Vegas, since we stayed at The Venetian and couldn't afford to do anything. The room was lovely, though.
This time, in an effort to save money for the really important stuff (gambling, eating, drinking), we stayed at The Sahara. The Sahara was a bit shabby and had smoky undertones, but in the scope of things it was a decent place to stay. They had $3 tables during the day and $5 tables at night (in contrast to the $15 tables all the time at The Venetian).
We also ventured to downtown Vegas, which has really improved. Instead of the blue-haired seniors that I remember the last time I visited, there were many, many younger folks, and plenty of them. The casinos were hopping, with cheap tables that weren't too crowded. We found a dealer that very patiently taught us how to play Roulette and we all WON. Cool! I walked up to a $3 Craps table and the same guy rolled for about 40 minutes. If that doesn't make sense to you, just know that it's virtually unheard of to have the same person roll for that long). I won $72. I should have won more, but I was a little slow to increase my bet from $3 to $5. Cheap Ass!
My football wagers didn't turn out quit so well. I won betting on the Chiefs (who WERE winning at half-time, even though they blew it later), then lost on Vikings, Cowboys and Jets.
No celebrity sightings and no shows, but I had a good enough time to want to go back. I will probably take a look at staying downtown if we go back, as that's were we ended up spending most of our time.
Next stop: Moab, Utah. Stay tuned!
Thursday, September 29, 2005
The Summit
I heard from Loving Husband this afternoon. "Guess where I am?" he says. He made it to the top of the climb! I congratulated him and breathed a sigh of relief.
The problem? He brought a camera, but the batteries were dead. ARG! No panoramic shots of Las Vegas from the Red Rock summit. No documentation of his "40 Years on This Earth" accomplishment. Bummer.
And I thought I heard slot machines in the background. But I could be wrong...
The problem? He brought a camera, but the batteries were dead. ARG! No panoramic shots of Las Vegas from the Red Rock summit. No documentation of his "40 Years on This Earth" accomplishment. Bummer.
And I thought I heard slot machines in the background. But I could be wrong...
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Leaving (for) Las Vegas (almost)
In celebration of a significant birthday that starts with '4' and ends with '0', Loving Husband is heading to Las Vegas tomorrow to do a rock climb of epic proportions (a multi-pitch climb for those of you that are curious). I am a teeny-tiny bit worried about him, mainly because (1) he is my husband and (2) I love him, even after 14+ years of marriage.
The really good part is that I (along with some great friends) get to join him Friday night, when we go to Las Vegas and PARTY!
The really bad part is that we are only there for the weekend, so we have to cram all the stuff we want to do into basically two days (Sat/Sun) and two nights (Fri/Sat).
I've been taking a Texas Hold 'Em class, as well as hosting a home game for about six months, so I want to take some lumps at the Poker tables. I've also been a Craps fan for several years, so I want to roll some dice too. And of course, there's the culinary nirvana that is Las Vegas...you can get about any type of food, lots of it, and usually really good, at any time of day or night. And for the icing on my cake...we will be there all day Sunday so I get to bet on NFL football, baby.
I'm not sure why I love betting on football. It could be that you just plain can't do it here in the midwest, at the riverboat casinos (it's illegal). Or it could be that you can bet $10 and have that bet last 2-1/2 hours (until the game is over or it's clear that you have won/lost). Or it could be the fact that I'm actually good at it!
My first trip to Vegas, a co-worker said, "Hey, here's twenty bucks. Put it on the biggest longshot you can find for me!" I ventured into the Sports Book for the first time ever and proceeded to bet a trifecta that included 3 football teams. Since I had no idea what I was doing, I thought this meant that I had 3 separate bets, each of which would pay if that team won. I found out later that what I had actually done was bet that all three events would happen.
What happened? You guessed it...all 3 teams won, and I brought back $100 for my friend. Many folks ask me why I didn't just pocket the money and tell him I lost. The answer is: I wouldn't have bragging rights if I did that! Duh. Those are way more than priceless.
The really good part is that I (along with some great friends) get to join him Friday night, when we go to Las Vegas and PARTY!
The really bad part is that we are only there for the weekend, so we have to cram all the stuff we want to do into basically two days (Sat/Sun) and two nights (Fri/Sat).
I've been taking a Texas Hold 'Em class, as well as hosting a home game for about six months, so I want to take some lumps at the Poker tables. I've also been a Craps fan for several years, so I want to roll some dice too. And of course, there's the culinary nirvana that is Las Vegas...you can get about any type of food, lots of it, and usually really good, at any time of day or night. And for the icing on my cake...we will be there all day Sunday so I get to bet on NFL football, baby.
I'm not sure why I love betting on football. It could be that you just plain can't do it here in the midwest, at the riverboat casinos (it's illegal). Or it could be that you can bet $10 and have that bet last 2-1/2 hours (until the game is over or it's clear that you have won/lost). Or it could be the fact that I'm actually good at it!
My first trip to Vegas, a co-worker said, "Hey, here's twenty bucks. Put it on the biggest longshot you can find for me!" I ventured into the Sports Book for the first time ever and proceeded to bet a trifecta that included 3 football teams. Since I had no idea what I was doing, I thought this meant that I had 3 separate bets, each of which would pay if that team won. I found out later that what I had actually done was bet that all three events would happen.
What happened? You guessed it...all 3 teams won, and I brought back $100 for my friend. Many folks ask me why I didn't just pocket the money and tell him I lost. The answer is: I wouldn't have bragging rights if I did that! Duh. Those are way more than priceless.
Saturday, September 24, 2005
Final (Thank God!) Day at the Seminar...
Got up even later this morning and got the the seminar at around 7:45am. I wasn't the only one straggling in, so the speakers didn't start until 8:00am. My brain just hurts at this point...
Only 2 speakers today. They are the heavy-hitters, so they are speaking for longer.
First up is a guy that was living in a one-bedroom apartment, mowing lawns for a living until a friend recommended him to a bank to do a rehab for a foreclosed property. I just love hearing the stories of how folks get started in real estate. All the current gurus were either (1) backed into a corner by financial troubles; or (2) accidentally tripped and fell face-first into real estate.
Anyway, this guy ended up having an opportunity to buy an apartment house, so he did it. Turns out that multi-family dwellings are (1) easier to get financing for; (2) bring in monthly cash flow (called "rent" to you & I) and (3) appreciate over time (usually). So you get two bangs for you buck...monthly checks + appreciation of your investment over time. This is great strategy, and the speaker got everyone excited. Even me. However, my brain was full after the previous two days and all the zeroes involved in his examples scared me away. Maybe a future deal, but I'm not ready for this yet. No sale.
Over lunch, I talked to a couple that I had met in a previous real estate event. They own 1/2 a duplex, so they were telling me about the trials and tribulations of being a landlord. This seems to be a reccuring theme: It's great to own rental property, but having tenants sucks. The wife also has a sister in San Diego who owns a 3 bedroom home that she bought for around $180K about 8 years ago that is now valued at $850K! That's how crazy the west coast real estate market is. No wonder there's all the buzz about the real estate bubble.
Last speaker was the heaviest hitter. This guy speaks at events with The Donald. As in Trump. This guy actually retired about a year ago, but came back to work in order to donate all his income for a year to charity. He's currently doing quite a lot for the Biloxi folks, as he hails from that area. As in renting 2 Mack trucks and filling them with food and equipment to the tune of about $1 million.
This guy was a great speaker! Energetic, gave us good information, got us involved, answered questions well, and (most importantly) gave out free stuff. Hey, it's always good to get free booty. Keep your booty call jokes to yourself folks...
He had no real speciality, but rather gave us some overall strategies and really pushed the "you can do it!" spiel. In a honest, unpatronizing way. He mentioned some strategies that I had never heard of before and offered a guarantee: Make a deal within 90 days of buying his materials and he will refund the price...DOUBLE. Gives a little extra incentive, huh? And for a competitive individual (like me!) throws down the gauntlet and just begs to be met with action. Sale. Yes, I bought it.
I'm going to be reading/listening to real estate material from now until Christmas! But as the "coaching" speaker said, "There are three types of activities: low dollar, high dollar and lifetime value." Low dollar is stuff that isn't helping your bottom line, like watching TV. High dollar is generating leads, making offers, etc. Stuff that will hopefully bring in the money. Lifetime value is education, spending time with your kids, etc. Stuff that makes you a better person or feeds your soul.
I think this little bit of wisdom is something I will remember for a long time...and it was free.
Only 2 speakers today. They are the heavy-hitters, so they are speaking for longer.
First up is a guy that was living in a one-bedroom apartment, mowing lawns for a living until a friend recommended him to a bank to do a rehab for a foreclosed property. I just love hearing the stories of how folks get started in real estate. All the current gurus were either (1) backed into a corner by financial troubles; or (2) accidentally tripped and fell face-first into real estate.
Anyway, this guy ended up having an opportunity to buy an apartment house, so he did it. Turns out that multi-family dwellings are (1) easier to get financing for; (2) bring in monthly cash flow (called "rent" to you & I) and (3) appreciate over time (usually). So you get two bangs for you buck...monthly checks + appreciation of your investment over time. This is great strategy, and the speaker got everyone excited. Even me. However, my brain was full after the previous two days and all the zeroes involved in his examples scared me away. Maybe a future deal, but I'm not ready for this yet. No sale.
Over lunch, I talked to a couple that I had met in a previous real estate event. They own 1/2 a duplex, so they were telling me about the trials and tribulations of being a landlord. This seems to be a reccuring theme: It's great to own rental property, but having tenants sucks. The wife also has a sister in San Diego who owns a 3 bedroom home that she bought for around $180K about 8 years ago that is now valued at $850K! That's how crazy the west coast real estate market is. No wonder there's all the buzz about the real estate bubble.
Last speaker was the heaviest hitter. This guy speaks at events with The Donald. As in Trump. This guy actually retired about a year ago, but came back to work in order to donate all his income for a year to charity. He's currently doing quite a lot for the Biloxi folks, as he hails from that area. As in renting 2 Mack trucks and filling them with food and equipment to the tune of about $1 million.
This guy was a great speaker! Energetic, gave us good information, got us involved, answered questions well, and (most importantly) gave out free stuff. Hey, it's always good to get free booty. Keep your booty call jokes to yourself folks...
He had no real speciality, but rather gave us some overall strategies and really pushed the "you can do it!" spiel. In a honest, unpatronizing way. He mentioned some strategies that I had never heard of before and offered a guarantee: Make a deal within 90 days of buying his materials and he will refund the price...DOUBLE. Gives a little extra incentive, huh? And for a competitive individual (like me!) throws down the gauntlet and just begs to be met with action. Sale. Yes, I bought it.
I'm going to be reading/listening to real estate material from now until Christmas! But as the "coaching" speaker said, "There are three types of activities: low dollar, high dollar and lifetime value." Low dollar is stuff that isn't helping your bottom line, like watching TV. High dollar is generating leads, making offers, etc. Stuff that will hopefully bring in the money. Lifetime value is education, spending time with your kids, etc. Stuff that makes you a better person or feeds your soul.
I think this little bit of wisdom is something I will remember for a long time...and it was free.
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