Reason #4,382 Why I Hate the Post Office

Actual email I received from an Ebay customer, today:

"Hi, I received the package today but I had to pay an extra 4.05 to get it because it was mailed in a flat rate box. To ship in a flat rate box it was 8.95. There was 4.90 in postage on there so they made me pay 4.05 to get it."

Now, I sent her package in a Priority Mail flat-rate box, with EVERY occurance of the words "Flat-Rate" carefully magic-markered out, so that it looked just like any other Priority Mail box, and a scannable prepaid label for standard Priority postage.
And WHY did I have to use a flat-rate box, in the first place? Just read my reply...

"I'm so sorry; I'll refund the extra postage, asap!
Our local post office is so incompetant it's ridiculous...I had to use the flat-rate boxes for some of my shipments, because that was all I had left at the house, and our PO keeps NOTHING in stock. They didn't have any Priority Mail supplies, at all, and (after rolling their eyes and giving me a lot of attitude, of course) finally promised they'd get some supplies in, in a couple of days.
And of course, they did not. >@ So, I ended up just using some of the flat-rate boxes, and marking out the words "flat-rate," in the assumption that would suffice.

I hate our post office, and have now ordered apx. one GAZILLION of every Priority Mail box or bag available, to keep on hand, as our PO seems to think it's just CRAZY for customers to expect to be able to use the normal services other post offices provide.

Anyway, now that I've ranted at you, lol - please let me know what email address I should use, to refund the $4.05, and I'll get it sent right out.
Do you suppose it's considered terrorism, to egg a government building? I'd better set aside bail money, just in case."

That was actually a lie - nobody at the Post Office rolled their eyes or gave me attitude. They rolled their eyes and gave Peyton attitude, just like they do, most every time I send him up there with a request. On the rare, magical occasions when they actually DO have the needed Priority Mail supplies in stock, he invariably gets the "Now, we have other customers, and it's not fair for you to take all the supplies" lecture - like when he makes the CRAZY request for a few Priority labels, or something of that sort. And all I can ever think, is "NO, NO YOU OBVIOUSLY DON'T HAVE OTHER CUSTOMERS, OR YOU WOULD KEEP MORE THAN A DOZEN LABELS IN STOCK. STOP PRETENDING THE STANDARD SUPPLIES PROVIDED FOR FREE BY EVERY OTHER POST OFFICE ARE A HOT NEW ITEM YOU HAVE TO HOARD LIKE RATION COUPONS. YOU ARE NOT DOING US A FAVOR, WHEN YOU GIVE US THE REQUIRED SUPPLIES WITH WHICH TO USE A SERVICE WE HAVE ALREADY PAID FOR; THAT IS CALLED DOING YOUR JOB.

That is IT, for me. 99% of the time, when I receive something I've purchased on Ebay and paid First Class or Parcel Post shipping on, it comes in a Priority Mail box or bag, turned inside-out - sellers do this, so that they can use the free shipping supplies, without having to charge Priority Mail prices. Technically, this is in violation of federal law, but obviously the government is not cracking down on it.
So. I'm announcing my stand, right here in front of God and everybody (because, as we all know, God is a Constant Reader of my blogs): I will never pay for First Class or Parcel packaging, again. As of today, I join the ranks of those unlawful citizens who turn their Priority boxes inside out, damn it. And good luck to the postman, who will be stuck delivering the even more monstrous order of Priority supplies I'm about to go order, from the website.
SCREW YOU, USPS!

And I'm serious, about those eggs. When you least expect it, Arcadia Post Office, I am coming.


*please note* this blog is intended for entertainment purposes only, and should not be construed as a legal confession of guilt in any past, present or future illegal acts against the United States Postal Service. I didn't do it, nobody saw me do it, you can't prove I did it, and those were not my eggs. So bite me.

Sh-Boom, Sh-Boom

Begun yesterday, finished today; still sadly lacking the creamy filling of sanity...


Fun day, thus far.

Perhaps I can sneak a few minutes of Sane Time, now that I've completed The Great Clifford Hunt. Lucien, who has the attention span and energy levels of a hummingbird on crack, was intent on finding "A CLIIIFFFORRD!" despite the fact that we do not even own a stuffed Clifford the Big Red Dog. There's no explaining concepts like "DO NOT HAVE" to a crazed toddler, of course, and so I finally consented to go see if perhaps the desired stuffed toy had fallen out of the air, or been left here by some Clifford-loving aliens.
Thus began ten minutes of searching high and low for an item we do not possess. Lucien's first stop was (naturally) his sister's potty, where he lifted the lid and leaned down towards the bowl, inquiring "Clifford in here?" I don't know if I'm more disturbed by the fact that he actually believed a toy he has never seen in our home might appear in a potty...or that he thought Clifford might actually answer him, from inside the potty.
I'm quite sure if he were in there, we would have heard him screaming. God knows I would scream.

In the past hour, Lucien has:

• Watched apx. 20min. of Clifford cartoons
• Watched apx. 12min. of Cars
• Watched apx. 15min. of The Wild
• Asked to watch a Justice League dvd
• Wept, at not being allowed to sample his fourth movie in an hour
• Screamed because we have no Clifford toys
• Screamed because Kalel came too close to his food
• Screamed because Kalel saw him lying on the floor, took advantage, and sat on his head (my kingdom, to have gotten a picture of that)
• Screamed because I would not get him a "hurrrnngglllhh" (your guess is as good as mine)
• Loudly announced that he is watching (insert dvd title here) apx. 87 times
• Run about the room on all fours, barking and mooing (continuous). I have no idea, regarding the mooing
  

In the past hour, Kalel has:

• Stolen everything her brother has been holding, looking at, or thinking about
• Bellowed a war cry fit for a Spartan, then smashed her snack bowl across the room and into the floor, sending unacceptable food all over the den
• Screeched in rage because I would not let her throw a book out the window
• Screeched in rage because she had thrown her own cup across the room, and was now displeased with this decision
• Screeched in rage because she did not want to watch The Wild
• Built a small house out of blocks
• Yelled "AH-DEE-YA-YA-DEH-DEH" apx. 214 times
• Hurled a number of small plastic balls against the opposite wall, narrowly missing my head, as I foolishly crossed her path
• Shoved the entire front of her dress into her mouth and shuffled around the room, yelling a garbled "UUURRRRGGG!!!" through a mouthful of skirt
• Sat on her weenie brother's head, making him cry - which I fully condone, and would like to try, myself

And still, Boy continues to pester me. He never gives up; no amount of Gentle or Forceful "no"s will do the trick, and as for reasoning...pffft...I'd have better luck reasoning with a stale Cheesy Poof. The more I "reason," the more he jumps up and down like an agitated gorilla, waving his arms and becoming increasingly loud.
What DOES work, I've found, is hitting him. No, bear with me, here - Lucien is, of late, obsessed with "ows." He LOVES an excuse to say "OW!" This child actually invents imaginary injuries, just so he can claim pain and get a kiss for it; he's like a neurotic little dog whose foot was stepped on once, and is still limping, years later, often forgetting which paw is supposed to be injured.
Sooo...if he won't stop, after about the twentieth "NO," I just smack that little waving hand. Immediately it's "OWWW! HUUURRRRT!" And he'll go away and leave me alone, for the price of a kiss - the kiss means he's gotten something he wants, and he completely forgets that the kiss wasn't what he originally wanted. Awesome. I'm convinced that God made little kids dumb, for precisely this purpose.

Time for me to add, here - I started this blog THIS MORNING, and it is now 5pm. Welcome to Motherhood.

It's been a pretty crappy day, or at least, it should have been. I don't even REMEMBER this morning - that should tell you how *chipper* I was, upon waking. Later, after Deirdre left for school, Peyton discovered (apx. 20min before he was due to go to work, of course) that he had no earthly idea where his wallet had meandered off to. How this even happens to a person, is beyond me. I lose MANY things - some of them quite important - but losing a wallet baffles me. Worse yet, as usual, he was convinced he knew just where it was, an idea which never, ever proves to be true.

If it's just like a man, to lose his wallet, then it's doubly Just Like A Man, to be in complete denial of the shoddy memory that has resulted in that loss.
And my own dear husband is King of the "But I Remember Exactly..." Tribe. Sadly, my love for him precludes me mocking him any further, over this incident, as I promised him I wouldn't.
I said "this incident." I am, however, perfectly free to mock him over pretty much everything else in the world. Fine print is everything, in a marriage, you know. ;D

At any rate, wallet was eventually found, but (of course) not before we'd had a nice little fight over it, or more specifically, Peyton's insistance that he knew just where it was. Add to that the fact that, with all the kid-interruptions, it took me literally half a day to list half a dozen items on Ebay. Those same kid-interruptions also distracted me enough to miss out on bidding on a few items I'd hoped to win - fall clothes for them, as usual - and as that happens frequently, I'm always tempted to start yelling "Alright; that's it! No clothes for you; you will all have to run around naked this winter! Noooo...it's too late to be sorry - those were THE LAST CLOTHES IN THE WORLD, and now you're just STUCK, aren't you?" There's just such a short window of time during which you can get away with that sort of lying, and it seems a shame not to take advantage of it.
On top of that sort of thing, and the usual badbadbadbadohwhatiswrongwithmykids, I somehow managed to ram my right thigh into...you know, I don't even remember, now...ram it into something, at any rate; something that left a bruise bearing a remarkable resemblance to a hickey. On my thigh. So now, I look like a slut, but with none of the fun benefits.

So, as I said, it should have been a bad day. But I did get most of those auctions up, and I also snagged a brand new silk coat and pants set, for Kalel, that I remember seeing selling for around $30, earlier this year (on Ebay; God knows how much it was, new), for the ridiculous sum of less-than-$10-including-shipping. And look! I'm blogging, even if it took all day, to do so.
More importantly, I've had "Sh-Boom (Life Could Be a Dream)", by The Crew Cuts, playing at downright Zany volume in my head, all day.
And it's just damned hard to stay dour, with "Hey nonny ding dong, alang alang alang...Boom BA-doh, ba-doo ba-doodle-AY...Oh, life could be a dreeeam, SH-BOOM!" toodling along as a soundtrack to your day.

And now, since this post is moving into it's second day of not-being-posted, I'm cutting this sucker off, right here. Tune in Next Time, which will assuredly come much sooner than This Time did. Same Bat Time, same Bat Channel.

Oh, and you guys REALLY need to go click this link, to see a perfect example of just what Bad Parenting is all about.

Ebayz, Cars, and Predatory Response

Do you suppose sanity actually makes a sound, when it cracks? What about just a little seizure?
Doesn't really matter; it's not like I could hear it, if it did.

I hate Disney's Cars. Hate it so very much. And if you had a not-quite-three year old who had been screeching "CAAAAAARRRRRS!" for the past hour, you'd hate it, too.

But onwards, to the point of this post -

Look, I have made Ebayz!
The fact that I have auctions listed on Ebay, is nothing new, if you know me. The interesting fact, is that I got absolutely no sleep, this past Friday night, and in that state, decided to update my About Me page.
Here, go have a look.
I was just restless, a little bored, and taking a break from writing Ebay listings. But reading it apparently made my husband weep with laughter, when he found it, and he's been after me to post a link, ever since.

Some of the auctions are fun, too, though you'd never know from the titles (as everyone knows, Ebay is Serious Internet Business, or at least, it is when you have kids to dress on a VERY limited budget), and better yet...the clothes are The Pretty. So go have a look, for a quick laugh, and go have a bid, if you know a little girl between 6-12mths, with a need to look Straight Pimpin'.

I wish I had coffee. Sadly, I am too afraid to get up and go to the kitchen, because I have not been bothered for FIVE ENTIRE MINUTES, and any large movements will certainly break that spell. The same rules that apply to wild dogs, apply to small children as well, you know - do not make eye contact, do not let them sense your fear, and if you remain very, very still, they often lose interest and go away.
Oh, wait...their backs are turned - now's my chance!