Tuesday, 29 November 2011

Face Punching Relieves Stress, Just Like Yoga!

Hello Everybody.  I know it has been a long long while since I posted.  Let me tell you, repainting a house and working part time is exhausting.  I mean, I have spent the last several years without this much activity in my life.  I don't know what to do with myself.  I am so busy all day.  Also, for a moment of complaining (something new and different, I know), retail is hard work.  To everybody who makes a living like this, I am impressed because I couldn't handle it.  My legs and feet hurt from not sitting, my brain hurts from staring at a computer and trying to shelve everything in the right place, my face hurts from constantly smiling.  Sheesh!!

But enough about me.  Here's my face punch.  It is to Lululemon.  There are many many reasons to punch this "Canadian" company who outsources all their labour to China.  But my biggest one is their new ad campaign.  It is causing a rukus from all those new-age hippy, yoga loving, skinny, rich people because they have referenced Ayn Rand on their bags with the "Who is John Galt?" saying.  Please, see here to get a little more perspective. 

If you have not read Atlas Shrugged, I need you to also go read that.  It should take you about 3 days if you have nothing to do but read full time, and are willing to experience this amazing book.  It is one of my all time favourite books.  It is beautiful.  I cannot possibly even begin to analyze or get into the ideologies of this book.  But I will try to briefly tell you what it means to me.  Please understand this is a very long book and I am going to summarize it in 3 sentences.  If you can do it better, by all means add it to the comments.

For me, this book is about a group of elite people who are willing to work very hard and do whatever it takes to rise to the top.  Once they have done this they dominate the economy and support the rest of the world through their brains, hard work, time, energy and effort.  Then, they go on strike.  They leave the world to fend for itself and it falls apart into shambles without them.  My biggest dream, after reading this book, was that I might somehow be included in this group.  They didn't discriminate, you didn't have to be the best in business, it was also people who excelled in art, or music, or even mothering.  You just had to pour your heart and soul and passion into whatever you did.  The idea being that not everybody is equal, and not every body is willing to work hard enough to make it. 

This is not a popular idea.  We have become a lazy generation/world.  We would rather blame someone else, or not bother to do the extra work, or pretend we can't make changes.  What infuriates me about Lulu using my beautiful Atlas Shrugged is that the idea of snobby people not understanding what and who John Galt is, have somehow gotten upset about it for the opposite reason.  I actually feel like the situation could have happened in the novel, if Rand had thought of something so rediculous.  The general public is upset that Ayn Rand is polluting their Lulu, but the real problem is that Lulu has polluted John Galt with its senitmental uninspiring take on what is very important to me.

I have another example - the Occupy movement.  At first I supported it because I thought it was an interested way to make a point.  Then I started to lose interest because if I wanted to make a real statement about capitalism I would have camped out in Queens Park not taken up the only green space in a student/poor neighbourhood.  But, my real problem, was when I was following the twitter feed and they thanked someone for bringing pizza, then it was tweeted that Pizza Hut is the official sponser of Occupy TO.  Yes, that is right.  The Occupy movement had corporate sponsers.  Hmmmm  what is wrong with this picture? 

I have obviously lost all track of where I was going with this.  Mostly I guess what I want to say is, stop Occupying, because I imagine it is hard to conduct a job search and get ready for interviews from a yurt, and Chip Wilson get Atlas off your damn bags!!  The people who understand that the point of your business is to make money already know it, and you are upsetting the rest of them.

Sunday, 20 November 2011

Put Your Damn Pants On

I've been in Hamilton almost three weeks now.  I have noticed a lot of nice things about this city.  All the green space, the people who don't seem to be born hating life, a backyard for our puppy so we don't have to have awkward dog park encounters.  These sorts of things.  But there is one big, huge, un-ignorable, fashion faux pas I have seen over and over and over in these parts.

I'm not any sort of fashion expert, BUT I do know this one simple irreversible fact that Hamiltonians do not seem to realize.


Zipping to Walmart?  Nope, not appropriate.  Heading out to grab something quick from the grocery store?  Still need to wear pants.  Going to the mall to do Christmas shopping?  Out to the movies?  On a fancy date?  Picking up drive thru McD's?  What do all of these activities have in common?  You cannot wear bedroom attire.  My standards are not high for fashion.  I will put up with tights and too short shirts even though tights are not technically pants.  I can handle sweatpants of all sorts.  Even little dogs in their own crazy cart contraptions used as fashion accessories (photo of 'dabie' provided by this  blog).  These things are all tolerable.  But not pj's. 

O please stop the madness Hamilton.  For me.  My delicate Toronto eyes are not used to such abominations.  In order to properly adjust, ease the culture shock, I am begging you, when you are setting out for the day, and you change your slippers to something with a harder sole, and you brush your teeth (o please be brushing your teeth), and you feel like you are forgetting something, look down and make sure that you are wearing something on your bottom half that is not plaid, or has cute little flannel coffee cups, or sparkles and strips.  Thank you.

Costco - The Super Cheap Way

You all know I am a really big fan of saving money at all times, mostly because I have been living off my Visa and am worried that soon I will reach my limit and then I will have no back up plan for life.  Although, I did have a conversation the other day with some friends at how impossible it is to get a bursary for life.  Really not fair that students get them all.

Last week we borrowed my MIL's Costco card to go on a giant shopping spree.  Today we decided to take advantage of the card and head out in the Sunday afternoon madness to do some shopping.  We grabbed a giant cart and started filling it up - 80 rolls of toilet paper, laundry detergent so heavy I could barely lift it, enough cookies to last me at least 3 days, the usual from a trip to Costco.

We got to the check out and looked in our cart at our goodies and realized we weren't that excited to be spending $300 on large amounts of mundane items.  Sure, they were all things we needed and would eventually use.  Yes, the prices were good, some better even than Walmart.  But, really?  For $300 we could come up with something really fun to do, or at least buy myself the cutest little party dress I've been eyeing at RW. 

They start scanning our items, Husband hands over the card.  They ask for ID.  We fumble for a minute, not sure what to do.  Herm tells them it's his Mom's card, we've used it before, can we do it just this once?

No.  It is a definite no.  No from the cashier.  No from the superviser.  Just no.

Fine.  Feeling surprisingly good about wasting an hour of our lives looking at extra large cans of ketchup and giant bags of chip, we leave.  Leave the full cart for them to unload and walk out into the sunset.  Overall, it felt like a successful trip.  We had the experience, we didn't have to pay anything, and we got home and had nothing to unload from the car. 

Who's coming next week?

Wednesday, 16 November 2011

Winner Winner Chicken Dinner

This is part punch in the face and part confessional.  I have a secret to confess, and after I confess it, it will no longer be a secret.  First, not the secret, I love postsecret.  I read it every Sunday and have for a very long time.  But lately I have noticed some of the things on there are not secrets.  For example: "At our nation's capitol in our national history museum all the souveniers are made in a different country".  This is not a secret.  It is an observation.  Anybody who goes anywhere can look at the stickers on the souveniers and see where they are made.  It is open and common knowledge.  NOT a secret.  I like the life changing dramatic ones, or even the random and revealingly secret ones.  Frank, please, stop posting the secrets of people who aren't creative enough to think of a real secret and who are wasting my time with observations, and not even good ones.

So here's a real secret for you, that is about to become just public knowledge.

Way back in highschool I had a problem.  An addiction you might even say....  Does anybody else remember $3.99 Big Mac Tuesdays?  Every week I would go with my friends and pretend I was just going to get the burger for $1.99 but I would always end up with the entire meal.  Every time.  Every week.  Thousands and thousands of calories wasted.  Did I mention I always super sized?

In order to stop this sad and pathetic addiction I gave up meat.  Extreme?  Yes.  I am a person who almost always deals with extremes.  I could not eat meat and just avoid the temptations of McD's.  So I gave it up.  Then one summer I lived with my sister who doesn't eat meat.  She told me I couldn't eat bacon anymore and she is really healthy and I was/am a little frightened of her so I stopped eating bacon and all other pork products. 

The end of this is that I haven't had meat in my belly for probably five years.  I have been a pseudo vegetarian.  I still eat chicken and fish and seafood but no beef or pork.  Or I used to....

Tonight I made my most delicious pasta.  A mix of alfredo sauce with chipotle and roasted red pepper and garlic and all sorts of delicious things.  But it is supposed to be topped with bacon.  There was bacon for Husband, and tonight there was bacon for me.  I want to say it was gross and awful.  I hated it.  I felt violated by piggy horribleness.

Not true.  I loved it.  LOVED.  It was amazing.  It was delicious.  The salty, porky, dead animal melting on my tongue.  There are no words.  Vegetarians, if you have ever thought or fantasized about this, wondered if you could go back to meat, I tell you yes.  Yes you can.  And it will be incredible.  Amazing.  No words.  I am speechless.  I have to go get more bacon right now in fact.  And then ham, first a ham sandwich then a big juicy slice of ham.  Maybe a burger.  Or a steak.  Smothered in bbq sauce and onions and mushrooms in red wine sauce.  Meatloaf wrapped in bacon.  Doors are flinging open in my life.  Watch out roast beef, here I come!  And then, when I'm good and ready, I will go back to McDonalds and order a Big Mac and let the sauce drip all over my face, dip my super sized fries in ketchup and let some 16 year old refill my Coke. 

Thursday, 10 November 2011

"How We Lived Then"

First - and unrelated to the rest of this post - please notice that I changed my url to http://attachresumehere.blogspot.com/  Just because I hadn't really expected anybody to read this and now that people do seem to be checking it I don't want potential employers to be able to google my name and come up to this.  My depression and self-pity is probably not inspiring anybody to hire me!


Today my book review is a book called "How We Lived Then" by Norman Longmate.  This is not just topical for Remembrance Day, I have actually been making my way through this book for the last three weeks.  It is really long and I have been busy, but I am working my way through it.  It is full of fascinating memories of day to day life in mostly England during World War II.  It is beautifully told and heartbreakingly sad.  A really good book should tell more than a story, it should also change the way you see the world.  For me, this book is a reminder, especially near Remembrance Day of all the men and women who gave up so much during the war years.  Not just the one who joined up, but the ones who stayed to fight on the home front.  The ones who put the pieces back together of their lives and their bombed out houses, who took care of the children, and who waited for the end of the war, for their men to come home, for letters or news about loved ones. 

I know I whine and complain (pretty much hourly) about the recession, the lack of jobs and meaningful employment...  but, after I graduated highschool until now I have done pretty much whatever I wanted.  I have used this time to travel and see the world, to hang out with friends, work various jobs.  It has been time for me to be irresponsible and free in the world.  For the men and women who spent six years of their lives in the war they missed that time of being young.  My Grandpa was in the RCAF, he signed up as soon as he could and stayed overseas until the war was finished.  These years I have spent partying and playing he spent in a war that is incomprehensible to me. 

I would like to say thank you to all of the men and women who fought and gave up so much for us and still do.  Wear your poppy or change your facebook picture to a poppy.  Hug your grandparents if you still have them, listen to their stories (even the long boring ones you have heard a thousand times), get to know the people they once were and what they did for us.  Even if you don't agree with the war, I think we can all agree that a huge sacrifice was made and that above all, deserves to be remembered. 

Tuesday, 8 November 2011

How NOT to Save Money on the Way to a Wedding!

Once upon a time, I accidentally hitchhiked a ride to a wedding and made a giant scene when I arrived and had random strangers talk to me all night about my entrance to the party.  Yes, these things happen to me all the time, I can't help it, I attract crazy situations.

I had gone with Husband to London, ON for a wedding (he was only Boyfriend back then).  My sister lives in London and graciously allowed us to stay in her apartment for the weekend.  She was not there to help us out with directions and such.  We drove to the ceremony and then to my sister's place, no problem.  We did not want to drive to the party because what kind of party is it when you can't drink?  We decided to take the bus, the directions seemed straight forward and manageable.  That was the first mistake.   I am notorious for getting lost, no matter how easy it seems.  We were aiming to be there early forcocktail hour.  We walked ten minutes to get to the bus, then.....

Incident #1 - we forgot the present.  Husband was already sweaty from walking in a suit and wanted to just take a cab.  I am forever trying to save money (aka I'm super cheap, even though I was working at the time of this madness).  Also I hate taking cabs.  I might even have a little cab phobia, the driving always makes me carsick, I hate the smell, and it seems like an awkward situation.  I avoid them whenever I can.  So I took off my heels and jogged back to my sister's house, grabbed the present and jogged back to the bus stop.  My effort was wasted, because the happy couple spent so much time being happy they forgot to thank us for the gift.  Not even an email thank you.  Bah.

We got on the bus and made it to our stop.  We/I got turned around and weren't sure which way we were going.  We wandered around a little bit.  At this point I must tell you, my sister had moved to London and often talked about how friendly the people were and what a wonderful city it was.  I took her word for it, and shouted out to an open jeep for directions.  The guy was more than happy to tell us where it was, and then he looked into the back of his car, and looked at my fancy dress and heels.  Finally he said, "well if you want you can hop in and I'll take you there."

I might have accidentally looked classy, but let me tell you, I am not.  I climbed up onto the wheel of his car and jumped into the back of the jeep.  It didn't exactly have seats, but it had a fun little board to sit on, and who needs seatbelts?  Really?  They are more of a formality in situations like this.  He drove a million miles an hour and flung around a corner into the courtyard of the hotel.  Then, with no way out, I let Husband get out first and I blindly jumped into his arms.  The driver drove out as fast as he had come in, leaving the rest of the party wondering what was going on. 

I was so excited and immediately told my sister what had happened.  She was shocked at me.  Apparently this is not what she had meant by the friendliness of Londoners. 

In conclusion, when in doubt, take a risk on the cab instead!  We took one home that night.

Unemployed does Renovations!

I love home decorating shows.  My favourite being Moving Up.  I am fascinated as much by Doug's changing hairstyles as the actual renovations being done.  My newest dream is for the old owners to come back and see this house after we are finished painting and decorating to see what they think.  They always get people to describe their style.  Once I watched one and they said they were going to make their house Asian meets Country.  My style?  Shades of Beige.  I just want plain relaxing colours so this house can stop giving me an instant headache. 
Since we moved in last weekend we have been working hard trying to make this house liveable.  The colour and decoration choices of the last people were horrendous.  It has led me to question the entire neighbourhood because one afternoon our neighbour was chatting and said, "well at least you don't have any repainting to do".  I assume he has seen the house, or else why would he say that?  But how could he have seen the house and think there was no work to be done?  Does he also have a giant spaceship/adult playground mirror on his ceiling?

We have had quite a few setbacks - for example, the people who lived here last didn't believe in nailing anything to walls, instead all of the lovely decorations were glued up.  The only room we have finished so far is the basement.  Or what was previously known as the adult entertainment room.  I am going to share some terrifying pictures with you, please prepare yourselves.  Then I will show you the after pictures!  Hopefully sometime before Christmas we will have 'after' pictures of the entire house because I am starting to go a little crazy here.

Yes, this was really our basement ceiling.

Yay!  Family pictures in the ceiling mirror!
Remember how I said everything was glued?  Well that giant 'X' and the frame on the ceiling around the mirror are glued down.  We actually can't even find a break in the wood, so apparently it was constructed in one piece and somehow magically brought into the house.  It was most likely aliens that did it.  Aliens who wanted the ceiling of their basement to remind themselves of the mother ship.  That is the only possible explanation for this.  We can't get rid of the X and frame without ripping out the entire ceiling.  Instead we painted it out, hoping to make it disappear.  The trim was all done in black, which I changed to white.  Even though everybody loves black trim in a dark basement, it is known to really lighten the room....

But where will the sex swing go? (That's what the old owners would say if they were to come back in a Moving Up scenario)

I'm not going to lie.  I do wish the ceiling could just look like a ceiling.  Apparently this is not possible.  But we did get some sweet new Ikea shelves.  The only question left to ask is, 'how did you get that lovely couch down into the basement?'

Nobody really wanted that light there did they?

Sunday, 6 November 2011

Twitter me, tweat me... whatever you do on that crazy thing...

In general I hate Twitter, I don't understand why anybody would want to be updated at all times about people they don't care about.  It is like the part of facebook that I never use.  If you update your status too frequently I delete you as a friend.  If you are a relative or someone who it would be awkward for me to explain why I deleted you I just delete you from my newsfeed.  I really don't care what you had for breakfast, or that you are feeling cold/hot/sick/fat and ugly.  Another favourite is the fb poll, should I cut my hair?  If 20 of you 'like' this I will totally *insert stupid activity that doesn't matter to me if you do it or not*.  Or the religious updates.  You found God in the crowded subway today?  All I did was pick up multiple communicable diseases.  Finally the drama.  O the drama.  Fb friends, want to know why you have so much drama in your life?  Because instead of handling situations like an adult and dealing with the person who has upset you you change your status to "SOMEONE is an f-ing b*tch whore who stoled my boyfriend.  You know who you are.  I'm SOOOO done with the drama.  I'm totally deleting you.  For real this time."  These people have notoriously bad grammar, they also are always confused by the drama because they really think they want it to end.  I don't warn people when I delete them, I just do it.  I try to be selective in my friending, I usually only friend people who I am actual real live friends with.  I'm old school like that.

BUT I am trying to be cool and stay up to date so that I am not 90 at only 26.  The point is I got twitter.  Not for myself.  For my dog.  Search us at @RegisPuppyJr .  Hopefully I did that right?  Are you supposed to say 'at @' or is that too many ats?  I'm so lost already. I know there is a way to add a button on my website, I'm working on it people.  Ever since I got twitter you've been really freaking demanding, did you know that?

Also - if you somehow found me here without realizing, I changed my website to http://attachresumehere.blogspot.com/ .  I wanted to be a little more anonymous, especially to places where I am applying for a job who might be googling my name. 

Thursday, 3 November 2011

If you lose the ability to tell who is crazy, does that make you the crazy one?

Lots has happened since I have moved to Hamilton and am trying to adjust to small city living.  My Mother, who has lived in Niagara most of her life, has been giving me lots of good tips, things like: smile at strangers, when someone says hi to you don't immediately hold your purse closer and back away from them, actually respond by saying hello, no seriously - say hello to strangers, don't buy your giant scary dog a spikey collar to try and make people more afraid of him.  You know, things like that.  Things that do not come naturally to me anymore.  I assume, growing up in Niagara, that at one time I knew how to interact politely with the general public, but I just can't seem to remember.  I am trying to follow these new rules, but feel they have interfered with my ability to discern dangerous strangers from friendly ones.  I have a few examples for you.

Example #1 - At the mall, for my new cool dude mall job, I was sitting on a bench switching shoes because I biked to work but didn't work in my biking shoes.  I feel like I am being watched.  Out of the corner of my eye I see an old lady lurking closer and closer.  Then, suddenly, she is all up in my face, right in front of me.  I panic, I don't know what to do.  My instinct is to grab my belongings and run outside barefoot and figure out a plan from there.  But NO I am following new rules here.  I stay where I am.  Warily I watch her.  She says, "those look like comfortable shoes".  Okay, I can play this game.  I smile and say, "Yes, they are."  She responds, "Where did you get them?"  In my head I think, 'dear sweet baby Jesus, is this conversation still happening?  Do I have to sit here for the entire day?  Do you want my S.I.N too?' but small city, Hamilton living Karen says, "They are Reebok."  She continues blathering away about something, "blah blah I'm old and my feet hurt blah blah".  This is enough.  I have contributed to society in a positive manner.  I leave her there feeling I have helped humanity enough for one day.

Example #2 - Leaving the mall, on my bike.  A guy sees me and yells out, "Nice bike."  I reach for my phone to dial 9-1....  just in case and then go to give him the finger.  But wait, I stop and consider what my Mom would have me do in this situation.  I almost miss the moment, it takes me so long to come up with the answer, but I get it (at least I hope I got it....) and I shout back, "Thank you."  I mean it is a pretty nice bike, worthy of screaming at a stranger?  Probably not.  But it does have flowers on it and that is rather adorable so who even knows?  Then, as I ride off into the distance the guy says, "You're welcome."  Really Sir, was that necessary?  Seriously?  I am confused.  Why don't these people have a natural filter for when a conversation is over?  I guess because when you are willing to talk to random strangers without being paid for it then how can you filter out when to stop?

Now, you see my dilemma.  Unprovoked attacks from random people.  Is this normal?  How am I supposed to react?  Which one of the two people above were crazy?  My vote is both of them!  Except as I was typing out my story I realized quite possibly the crazy one is me.  Like that saying, one out of four people suffer from mental illness, look at your three closest friends, if it isn't one of them.......  Is that a saying?  Do other people ever really say that?  Or do people just say it to me a lot?  I believed for the first 25 years of my life 'handsome as a horse' was a saying commonly used....  apparently not....


I have another, unrelated story of success and daring, of great acheivement.  That's right folks, I finally squeezed my ass into my jeans!!  Woot Woot!!  I even have a belt on with them to pretend they might fall off, but let me confide in you it is going to take some serious work to get these off.  They are Olivia Newton John sewn into her outfit in Grease tight on me right now.  But I did it and I am proud of myself.

Enough observations on life.  Enjoy the rest of your Thursday.

Wednesday, 2 November 2011

The Truth

Dear Internet Followers,

I have been lying to you.  I have to confess.  Remember a while back I mentioned a job interview?  I did in fact get the job.  So, although I call myself unemployed, technically I am now underemployed.  This is a serious step up, and I was afraid to hurt my own reputation by telling you.  But I can't hide the truth any longer, I can't live with this lie. 

Here is my advice to you.  First, get an honours degree, work really hard, graduate with an A average because this is very important in the real world.  At least that was what I believed when I worked so hard in highschool my stress levels caused my hair to fall out and my stomach to be unable to keep food in it for more than about five minutes. 

Turns out the world doesn't care that you almost died to prove you are smarter than most (some?  at least a few?) people.  Then you go to university, where even less people care how smart you are, because turns out graduating with a 93 average in highschool doesn't mean very much there.  Fine, so you work hard at university to keep your scholarships (apparently my health and mental well being was worth $4000, just in case you wanted to quantify your stress, although nowadays I would take that $4000 and trade in my self dignity and respect as well and not complain).  You graduate and nobody cares.  So you go back to college to get practical experience in your field and hope to find a job you are insanely overqualified for.  Guess what?  Still nobody cares.  Or wants to hire you.

BUT there is hope.  A light at the end of this long dark tunnel, if you will.  Because after five years of post secondary school, working so hard to be the very best, you get hired, for minimum wage, to work at the mall.  Here's the part that really hurts....  part time, seasonal work.  Now, for the twist of the knife - you accept this position because nothing else has been offered to you and you need to pay your rent somehow.  Yes.  That is my life.

I absolutely do not want to come off as ungrateful, because I am very excited to finally be working again (4 hours this week!  Watch out world    ....  oops  ....  I was supposed to be sincere in this part ....  somehow my bitter sarcasm snuck in ....).  No, seriously, I am glad to have something to be doing, that pays me money.  I am also glad I have come out with the truth to you.  I hope you can forgive me for keeping this from you for the last week.  I am terribly sorry.

To help gain back your trust, here is an adorable picture of Regis as a baby.

Cutest puppy ever?  You know I think so.

Tuesday, 1 November 2011

U Haul U Suck

I'm back online again! This time with a very special face punch!

We moved on Saturday from Toronto to Hamilton.  We had to book our elevator time a month ahead (11:30-1:30), and we also booked our truck far in advance of moving day.  We were told someone from U Haul would give us a call the night before the move to confirm the time and place.  They never called but we did get a fun email saying we were to pick the truck up in Etobicoke at 12:30.  Well this would obviously never work.  I called U Haul and spoke to their people, who mostly didn't speak, in fact I would sit in silence on the phone waiting for them to respond to my questions.  Apparently the problem was the man (let's call him Albert, so I don't have to keep typing 'the guy') who currently had the truck wouldn't have it back until 10:30 Saturday morning so we just couldn't have it earlier.  They had no back up plan, no way to confirm we would have our truck, and no extra truck for us to take early.  I asked to speak to the people who actually made the reservations.  Apparently what the woman I was talking to heard was, "give the phone to your friend".  I spoke to another lady, who said the same things all over again, just as slowly as the first. 

Finally, since they weren't helping me, I hung up and looked up the head office number for myself.  I gave them a call, pressed a thousand numbers to get to a real person, who transfered me, where I pressed a thousand more buttons, to get put on hold.  I was also getting ready to go out, so I waited on hold for 15 minutes, and then did the thing that makes you get off hold very quickly.  I started to brush my teeth.  Obviously my call was picked up the moment I was most minty and frothy. 

I re-explained my issue (well, first I spit out my toothpaste), again letting them know the elevator was booked all day and I needed to get out of my apartment and to Hamilton.  Finally, after much doing nothing and not offering any solutions (except to say Albert had been called and confirmed he would be in at 10:30 the next morning.  More on this lie later), the representative said (almost sarcastically, might I add), "well I'm sorry if this caused any inconvenience".  What?  Really?  Why would it be inconvenient for me to not be able to move?  After we've packed up all our things, Herm has a job in Hamilton, our friends are coming over to carry the heavy stuff and we've already rented a truck?  Nah, not inconvenient, I think I'll stay in Toronto.  Good plan U Haul.  This move was a silly idea. 

So, with nothing more to be done, they said to be there at 11:30.  From previous U Haul experiences, I sent my Husband out at 10:30 to get the truck.  The truck wasn't there.  This was not surprising.  They assured him they had already called Albert and that he was coming.  Finally, after half an hour of waiting Husband asked them to recall Albert.  It took them 20 minutes to even find the number.  When they did call it was out of service.  Now that doesn't seem right.  How did they speak to him both last night and this morning already?  And if they had just called him why did they bury his number under a thousand other papers and then shuffle them all together making it difficult to find the number they needed to 're-call'?  Oops....  caught in your own web of lies U Haul...

Two hours later, no Al, no truck, and no solution.  Their customer service reps actually ignored my husband while he stood and spoke to them.  Finally my wonderful MIL (mother in law) found us another truck to rent.  From Discount.  This is where it gets hilarious.

U Haul has a policy if they can't make a reservation you get $50.  This is rediculous for a number of reasons.  First - if we had've been paid for the amount of time we spent on the phone and waiting fifty dollars would hardly add up to minimum wage!  Also, who has a policy knowing they will fail?  They must miss so many truck rentals they finally had to start paying people.  Probably to stop them from punching faces with their real fists on just their little weak internet ones!

What if other people had this policy?  What if I go to get surgery and the surgeon says, 'just to let you know, I mean this usually works out, but if I really ruin your brain we'll give you fifty bucks.  Hell, if you die, we'll even send it along to your next of kin.'

Or, what if I'm allergic if peanuts and I ask if something has it and I'm told, 'it shouldn't.  But it could.  If it does and you go into anaphalactic shock, well, we'll give you $50.'

Or policemen, what if every time they arrest the wrong person and jail them for 30 years that person gets $50?  Fair trade?  What if you go to the movie and they tell you to go the first theatre and if it isn't the movie you wanted you can have $50?  Or at the grocery store, if your milk has already expired, $50?

You all know I am not one to argue with free money.  But this seems a little over the top.  How about, instead of this strange incentive, you just do your job?  Because it isn't that hard.  Nope, they chose instead of ruin my day and try to entrap me in Toronto.  I told you this city was abusive!

In shocking news, after all of that, Herm was able to get to Discount, rent the truck, go pick it up from the lot and get back up to our apartment building in about half an hour.  See U Haul?  It can be done.  Plus the truck was at least $50 cheaper. 

The real mystery is whether or not Albert ever returned the truck.  O my gosh!!  I just solved my own mystery!!  Did anybody else see this?  Albert you maniac!!  Bring back our truck!!  haha

So, U Haul, here is your face punch, for your rude customer service reps, your ineffective scheduling, your complete lack of caring for people who are only trying to pay you money for you to do your job properly, and for your stupid policy about not being able to keep reservations.