Obama Wins Nobel Peace Prize

All I have to say is:  YGTBSM

America: the view from the Outside

There was a well-hidden article on cnn.com today that, IMHO, is not getting the attention it deserves.  It’s good to get a look at America from the outside every once in a while, and to learn that stereotypes work both ways is an eye-opening thing indeed.  For those who are too engrossed by my erudite opining to click upon the link, the summary is that African immigrants to the US and African-Americans seem to have little in common.  Their perceptions of each other are tainted by stereotypes proliferated by the media and Hollywood.

Even more fascinating to me than the mention of my high school is the revelation that African immigrants said that they identify more with the mores of middle class America than the individuals who have been in this nation for generations, yet claim sub-Saharan Africa as their “homeland.”  Most striking of all was the admonition of Nigerian emigré Vera Ezimora, 24.  Ezimora, on the subject of slavery and racism in America gave the following sage advice:

“We have all been tortured.  Now that we are free, holding on to the sins of white men who have long died and gone to meet their maker is more torture than anything we have suffered.”

It seems to me that she is saying that to hold on to the outrage from the enslavement of one’s ancestors (who were all dead before most people living today were even born) merely perpetuates that enslavement by trapping a large segment of the population in a cycle of hate that gets passed from generation to generation because we don’t look beyond it to what can be if we keep our focus on the inside of a person rather than the outside.

I was fortunate enough to be exposed to all kinds of people from before I can remember.  The town I grew up in was the home of the major university in the state.  The property catty-cornered to ours belonged to a Filipino family (the head of which was also our family doctor) and that to our rear belonged to a black family who had held onto it for a hundred years before suburbia encroached (it had been a gift from the plantation owner who had held all that acreage where our little white-collar subdivision now stands).  One thing my dad is proudest of was the fact that his mother was so far ahead of her time when it came to equal opportunity.  In 1930’s Moultrie, GA, my grandmother, Mattie Lou Hall, ran the kitchens for the Moultrie schools.  She was the one person in town (according to my father) for whom the black denizens wanted to work most.  Their reasons were two-fold:  one, she offered jobs that allowed weekends off and two, she treated everyone equally.

I had the pleasure last night of meeting a middle-aged African-American woman who is the wife of a soon-to-be-retired Marine (as soon as he gets back from Iraq).  Like me, she is in a mixed-race marriage and we shared stories of our experiences in seeing the prejudices committed by our own “kind” toward those we love.  I related my tale of how, when Hubby was teaching Spanish in a tiny rural district that was fairly balanced among whites, blacks, and Hispanics, he had been accused in a 2- to 3-week period of discrimination against all three groups.  My response was to tell him “Congratulations:  you’re now an equal-opportunity racist!”

Her tale revolved around a young black Marine who had made allegations against her husband of bias against his race.  In truth the issue was that the younger Marine was unwilling to perform his duty.  Over her husband’s protests that the proceedings were closed to the public, my new acquaintance received special permission to attend the hearing.  When her husband’s name was called, she stood up with him.  When the judge told her that these were closed-door proceedings and she would have to leave, this brave lady respectfully but firmly stated from whom she had received permission to attend and that she was going to stand by her husband no matter what.  At the revelation that the Marine accused of racism had a spouse of the same race as the accuser, the allegations withered as fast as the confident faces of the accuser–and his counsel.

Semper Fi, sister.

HERE’s Change I Can Believe In!

Well, today I marked the end of my 6th week on the MediFast weight-loss program with a milestone:  I have officially reached the 20-lb loss mark!!!!!!!  My weight today was 208.5.  My counselor and I both did a happy dance!

I am averaging about 3 1/3 lbs. a week lost.  At the end of my 4th week, I was measured again–I’ve lost 10 inches, mostly in the shoulder/upper chest area.  I feel better than I have in a long time.  Also, I’ve finally figured out how to make the diet routine work around my schedule in a year-round classroom.  A typical weekday goes like this:

5:30-awaken and shower

6:00-dress, put on make-up, dry hair

6:30-make sure Hubby is awake (his commute takes 5 minutes; mine is 35)

6:40-gather the day’s necessities, mix a MediFast hot meal with my coffee in a to-go cup

6:50-leave for work, drink coffee/meal en route

7:30-enter Education office for daily roster and participation in the daily BMC (Bitch, Moan, and Complain)

8:00-go to classroom for planning period/prepare for the day

9:00-go to cafeteria to refill water bottle

9:10-return to office to make worksheet copies; prepare and eat MediFast oatmeal or scrambled eggs,

9:30-pick up students for morning session

12:00-lunch–a MediFast soup or stew.  If there is a company BBQ that day (that happens about every 4-6 weeks), I bring a measured salad from home and take the meat only for my “lean and green.”  Refill water bottle in cafeteria and fill cold drink mug with Diet Pepsi.  Go to car to call Hubby.

12:45-pick up students for afternoon session

3:10-MediFast bar while students work independently

3:30-School ends, leave for home.

Here, the routine depends on what’s on my plate that afternoon.  If it’s a weigh-in day, I go straight to MediFast.  If I have errands to do, I’ll do them–if they keep me out long enough, I’ll have another MediFast bar between 5:30 and 6.  If I go straight home and haven’t already had a “Lean and Green,” I’ll prepare one for Hubby and me to eat between 5:30 and 6.  Even though he isn’t on MediFast, he tries to eat like I do.

At about 8:30-9:00, it’s the last meal of the day.  A MediFast shake or dessert if I’ve already had my Lean and Green, or my Lean and Green if I haven’t had it yet.

10:00ish-bedtime.

I’ve had some fun with my Lean and Greens.  I even used this fun to do my good deed for the day.  While I was there today, a gentleman was getting his initial orientation for the program.  I could hear the doubt in his voice increasing as he realized his favorite soul food dishes were going to have to be avoided for the time being.  I grabbed a post-it note from the desk and quickly scribbled down a one-serving okra gumbo recipe I’ve perfected that fits the lean and green guidelines perfectly.  When I presented it to him, the relief on his face said it all.

Being there for each other–that’s what it’s all about.

We Interrupt this Series

Yes, I have an update on my progress with MediFast.  Yes, the news is good.  However, there are more pressing issues weighing on my mind now, and I’ve gotta release it before I go stark, raving mad.

WHAT IS IT ABOUT EXCEL?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

My husband thinks Excel’s the greatest thing since sliced bread.  When the proverbial gun is put to my head (that’s what it takes for me to use the damn thing; I never go willingly), I’d like to put Excel through the bread slicer.

I’ve tried for 15 years to make heads or tails of Excel.  I can’t.  It makes absolutely no sense to me whatsoever.  Perhaps twice in my lifetime, I have asked Hubby to create a spreadsheet for me.  No matter how complex and demanding my request is, in 10 minutes, he has a spreadsheet that does exactly what I want it to do, tailored to my PhD level of expertise. (Push here, Dummy!)

Today was a “gun to my head” day.  I witnessed something at work today that required an official report be submitted.  Guess what?  The report was a pre-formed Excel document–exactly the wrong format for something comprised only of words!  When I ask Hubby for Excel, it’s because I need to crunch numbers.  When the report is comprised solely of words (okay, you have to use numbers to indicate the time of day, but come on!), wouldn’t common sense dictate using a program named…oh, I don’t know…perhaps…”WORD“?!?

Oops, I almost forgot:  one Tenet of Truth learned earlier this week:

Why is it called “common sense” when it is all too rare?

Well, it turns out that if you access the incident report through the intranet, only one person on the premises can use it at a time; everyone else is locked out.  There were several unrelated “train wrecks” at work today; at least 5 people I know of needed to submit these forms for one reason or another.   So I started composing my report on a Word document with the intention of copying and pasting it onto the official report when it was my turn.

Finally, my turn came, and I copied, pasted, and…the whole text (about 3/4 page) wound up crammed onto one line of the Excel report document.  I called my boss (one of the authorized tech support people in my building) and asked what I should do.  He said “don’t worry about it; when you print it, it’ll come out right.”  Then I had all the info entered and spell-checked, and (based on past experience and the fact that the printer is a good 1/4 mile walk away), I did a “print preview.”  Guess what?  EVERYTHING WAS CRAMMED ON ONE LINE!!!

Well, that’s not really true.  Only the first line and the top half of the letters on the second line appeared.  The remainder of my report was covered up with blank lines on the form!   AAAARGH!  I start calling around, looking for a nearby co-worker who knows something about Excel other than how to cuss at it.  The one person who did was another co-worker trying to fill out the same report.  She was as frustrated as I.

All told, 3/5 of the staff in our department could not carry out a single professional duty the entire afternoon because of the requirement to have this TPS POS Excel document signed, sealed and delivered by the end of the day.  Finally, another intrepid co-worker in my department who was dealing with the same intransigent report form found a back door.  Apparently, the company’s internal home page not only had a link to the form of which none of us were aware, but it had a data-entry page comprised of simple, easy to use text boxes!  You just typed in your info in the appropriate boxes, clicked “enter,” and Presto Change-o!  The blinkin’ Excel report was done perfectly and ready for printing.

The frustrations of the day were legion.  We had to undergo a month of OJT before we could put in our first day on our real job, yet none of us ever knew that this “back door” existed.  Actually, what we were taught to use was the back door complete with creaky hinges, peeling paint, and rusty, torn screens.  What we weren’t told about was the ultra-modern chrome and glass front entry complete with automatic door opener.

All of us said at one time or another “If this had been a Word document, I’d have been done in (15-30-45) minutes.”  Doing this Excel aberration took all of us, working independently over three hours, in which we all had to get someone else to take on our normal duties.  An extremely inefficient use of company time.

I had scheduled a doctor’s appointment for this afternoon at an office 10 minutes away from where I work.  My normal end of the day is 30 minutes before the time I’d set for my appointment–no problem, right?  WRONG!!!  By the time I’d ended this Excel snipe hunt and got to my 109-degree car (that’s downright cool–the last three days were 111 or 112!), I had two minutes.  Wasn’t going to happen.  I was 10 minutes late and my blood pressure was 20 points higher (systolic AND diastolic each) than my last reading at a weigh-in on Monday.  Worst of all is that, as much as this day called for a beer or 12, alcohol is strictly verboten on this diet.  Not even one.  I asked my beer aficionado boss to please have a six-pack for me this weekend.  He said no problem–he’s going golfing tomorrow.  I knew I could count on him!

At least I have the weekend to recover.  I’m optimistic–after all, the way today was, I’ve got nowhere to go but up.

The REAL Inconvenient Truth–”Before” Stats

As promised, Sports Fans, I am making public the ugly facts that are my “before” measurements.  I’ll keep you posted on progress as I receive it, but on only my second day on the MediFast program, I noticed something interesting.  My jeans, which fit OK in the morning, were annoyingly falling down all afternoon!  I had stopped wearing a belt to work, because the sole piece of metal on my belt (the buckle) kept pinging the metal detector.  Now I’ll just have to deal with the metal detector, at least until I get to the point where I have to buy new clothes.

Anyway, here are my opening stats (as of 05/27/09):  not for the faint of heart. All measurements are circumferences unless otherwise noted.

• Neck:  16 1/2″
• Shoulder (span):  25″
• Right (upper) arm:  16 1/4″
• Left (upper) arm:  16 3/4″
• Chest:  50″
• Ribs:  45″
• Waist:  45 1/4″
• Abdomen:  46″
• Hips:  47 1/4″
• Right thigh:  23 1/4″
• Left thigh:  24″
• Right inner knee:  16 1/2″
• Left inner knee:  16 1/2″
• Right calf:  16″
• Left calf:  16 1/4″
• Right ankle:  9 1/2″
• Left ankle:  10″

Yes, I made my rookie mistakes on the first day.  In fact, that day now has a name.  I call my first day on MediFast “If at First You Don’t Succeed, Read the Directions.”  I came into the Education Office the first day (where we all pick up our daily rosters and chat before classes begin) and heated water in my shaker container for my first MediFast meal, a chai latte.  While the microwave heated my water, I was telling my co-workers that I had started this program, and my intended results.  The microwave dinged as I was beginning to explain the meals.  I continued to explain as I opened the chai latte and poured the contents into the container.  I put the lid on, began to shake and BOOM!  Two of my eight ounces of chai latte went EVERYWHERE, especially on the floor and my white tank top (I wore an unbuttoned blouse over it).  I just narrowly missed one person, and saw the horrified look on another the instant before it happened.

My immediate boss, Billy, came in just as the testing coordinator came in to report that she could not access the mops because the folks with the key to the janitorial room were not in yet.  Billy (God love him) found some rags, and we proceeded to use them to clean the floor.  Just as Billy took the last of the rags (and put them somewhere known only to God), the school administrator walks in the door with a perfunctory “What’s up?”  As I walked toward the restroom to clean myself up, I looked the administrator in the eye and replied “Do you want to know?  Do you REALLY want to know?”  He didn’t–I guess his PhD has paid off!

I went into the restroom, realized there was WAY too much chai latte all over my front to clean, then turned my tank top backwards and put my blouse back on over it.  No one was the wiser.  It wasn’t until a similar, but smaller and more contained incident as I mixed my cream of broccoli soup at lunchtime that I noticed on the shaker container these small but important words:  “Not for use with hot or carbonated liquids.”

As of this morning, the beginning of the fourth day, I weighed 215 lbs. even.  That’s 13 lbs in three days!  Granted, it’s easier to lose the first ten lbs. rather than the last 10, but I am bound and determined to make this stick.  Despite trips to the movies and the mall, and a payday when everyone else got my adored Golden Chick, I have not cheated once.  In fact, when I saw my counselor, Linda, yesterday, she cautioned that I may be drinking too much water.  I’m limiting myself to four 32-oz bottles/day.

Whenever I start to feel hungry, I look at my  watch.  Without fail, the time is revealed to be inching dangerously close to the end of my 2-3 hour space between meals!  So far, I don’t dislike anything I’ve tried, although I don’t think I’ll buy another box of the Orange Creme Shake–the taste is reminiscent of liquid baby aspirin.  The beef stew is good though.  Next time, I’ll have to try my new box of “chicky shnoodle”:  what my favorite cartoon character, Mooch, calls chicken noodle soup.

Last night, I fell asleep watching one of my favorite movies:  Hello, Dolly.  I was bummed about missing the scene at the Harmonia Gardens, but when I woke up this morning, I felt more alive than I have in a longer time than I remember!  Wow!  We went briefly to the mall today, and Ladybug and I were picking out what I will wear when I have the body for it.  In truth, though, it’ll be a long time before I buy my clothing retail.  I plan to haunt the plethora of Goodwill stores (which all look remarkably nice around here) until my size is by-God stable.

This Time, I’ve Done It for Good!

Yesterday, I did it.  I took the plunge.  I’ve committed myself.

No, not to the insane asylum, although I’m sure at least one of my two readers came to that conclusion.

I signed up with MediFast.  We’ve contracted to shed myself of 75 lbs. in 25 weeks.  That would put me at my target weight of 150lbs. one week before Thanksgiving.

This isn’t my first attempt at dieting.  I had 115 lbs. on my 5′6″ frame the summer before my senior year and I decided I needed to go on the (then-trendy) Scarsdale Diet.  That was before I found out the Scarsdale Diet involved eating canned tuna–a food I despised then and still dislike now (although I will eat it when I have no alternative–like during my 6 mo. unemployment).

The Air Force called my 145 lb. weight “unacceptable” and ordered me to attend aerobics classes at least once a week.  My knees have been bad since the age of 15, and the step exercises hurt like hell and made me feel like an idiot.  Thank God I became pregnant soon after and the 1st Shirt (the senior non-commissioned officer in the unit and “hatchet man” for all issues involving enlisted personnel) had to rescind the order.  It was a matter of 6 weeks between my return from maternity leave and my discharge thanks to the first round of Congressionally-mandated personnel cuts (selected by scheduled end of enlistment).

As I bore two more children and became more focused on them (and earning my bachelor’s degree along the way), my weight slowly and gradually crept up.  Dammit, there’s just so much food out there that tastes wonderful, but is in fact a willingly-ingested time bomb.

To make a long story short, in the past 20 years, my weight has ballooned.  Last January, I weighed in at 225 and was shocked.  I enrolled in Weight Watchers, the only supervised diet plan available where I lived then.  I followed the plan religiously, and shed 2o lbs. in 12 weeks.  Then I hit a plateau.  For those of you for whom weight isn’t an issue, a plateau is when all the good things you are doing don’t do it anymore.  I struggled for another two months not moving more than half a pound in any direction, then I moved, then I couldn’t find work and couldn’t afford meetings.

Finally, when I did get a job, one perq was a free meal in the dining hall.  No, it’s not very appetizing and way too dependent on pinto beans and white rice, but it was free and I availed myself.  As I undid all the good I had fought for the year before, my body began a quiet but persistent protest.  My heel bones felt like they wanted to go through the soles of my feet.  My knees hurt more and more.  My clothes were tightening.  My feet weren’t fitting into some of my less-flexible shoes.  I was tired all the time.  I wanted to be left alone.  I wanted another 2-piece dark meal from Golden Chick.  Caffeine alone wasn’t doing it for me, so I kicked in sugar for energy–2 or three cups of black coffee, followed by 2 or three mugs of Mountain Dew or Dr Pepper.

Something had to give before my body did.  I began to research weight loss programs.  I paid attention to the Nutri-System ads, but all those damn commercials so incessantly annoy me–and I haven’t had a TV in my home since last August!  I can’t imagine how insane I’d be if I saw Dan Marino, Marie Osmond, etc. as often as “the average American” must.  I just wrote them off on principle.

I knew I wanted a diet that was idiot-proof.  I have enough thinking to do between the requirements of career and family; I did not want to have to analyze the minutiae of every meal I ate.

Then I heard Sgt. Sam Cox on KLBJ’s Morning Show extol the virtues of MediFast and how he lost his weight so quickly without ever being hungry.  His testimony of the JumpStart plan was appealing, but I delayed.  Sgt. Sam, Mark, and Ed also extolled the wonders of a place horribly misnamed “Mighty Fine Burgers, Fries, and Shakes.”  I didn’t want to be burned again.

Finally, I checked out MediFast’s website.  I liked what I saw.  The regimen is 6 meals per day, spaced about 2-3 hours apart.  Five of them are pre-packaged; the 6th (although you can have it at any time) is called “Lean and Green.”  This meal is one portion of lean meat (and a healthy fat, if your meat choice is lean enough), and three portions of (mostly) green vegetables, either raw or cooked.

The one thing that gave me pause is that the program isn’t cheap, and I am.  In fact, I cancelled my appointment to start the program when I found out that my health insurance carrier wouldn’t cover the cost (some policies do).  It turned out that my carrier has a sweetheart deal with Jenny Craig.  I decided that I’d save money and sign with Jenny.

Then I researched it.  The more I read about Jenny Craig, the less I liked.  Location wasn’t an issue; the two centers are located just a couple of exits apart on IH-35.  What did bother me was the two most consistently-recurring complaints:  the lack of knowledge of the counselors, and issues with Jenny’s frozen food.  Basically, it turns out that many of Jenny Craig’s counselors have never had to deal with weight issues; they are selected for their sales prowess.  Many repeat dieters (like me) remarked that they knew more about health and nutrition than the counselors did.  Also, a frequent complaint among people who (like me) live in states that experience triple-digit temperatures in the summer was that the frozen food (which must be shipped by FedEx) would be delivered in the morning, just after leaving for work, and when the client came home in the evening, the food would be thawed (and in one case, spoiled and responsible for a nasty food poisioning).  I don’t have space in my freezer for the two- to- four weeks of food that a Jenny Craig client is required to purchase at a time, and I don’t have the ability to keep frozen food at work.

In contrast, Linda (my counselor) is a MediFast success story.  Also, the MediFast food is all shelf-stable.  Even though I teach at a year-round school, all I have to do is nibble on a bar or sip on a shake while my students are doing their individual work.  That’s a meal!

Today was day one.  Right now, I am nibbling at my last meal of the day–a Lemon Meringue Crunch bar.  In truth, I am having to make myself eat it.  I’m not hungry, but part of the deal is commitment, and that means eating every one of the six meals.  The only times I did feel hungry today was one time in the morning and one time in the evening when I lost track of time and almost reached my 3-hour limit.

Next time, I’ll give you the REAL “inconvient truth”:  my initial measurements.

More Than Elementary, Dr. Watson–So Much More!

There is a favorite among the witticisms I have collected in my life.  It says, quite simply:

I try to take life one day at a time, but lately several days have attacked me at once!

The last four weeks have been a roller coaster ride in my house.  Not the screaming-in-glee-buy-the-obscenely-priced-photo-at-the-end kind of ride, but the stop-the-world-I-want-to-get-off kind.

One of the barn cats that came with the property in the country we bought 5 years ago (and are currently trying to sell) showed up in February looking abnormally thin–skin and bones, to be exact.  Mom and Dad took her to the vet there, who said she was dehydrated and had a kidney infection.  Lavender (the calico cat) received some pills to clear up the infection, and we brought her up here to the city to nurse her back to health.

For about 3 weeks, Lavy seemed to improve.  Then, one day, she couldn’t walk straight and, in fact, could barely stand.  When I got home from work that day, I took her to the nearby Tech Ridge Pet Hospital.  Even though it was only 10 minutes before closing time, Dr. William Watson and his staff bent over backwards to help us.  A blood test confirmed that Lavy was still dehydrated, and had a red blood cell count of only 18%–marginal for sustaining life.  They spent an hour stabilizing her, then directed me to the 24-hour vet clinic a few miles south.

There, I had an agonizing choice to make.  Money is tight now, and the recommended course of treatment would be far beyond our means with no guarantee of success.  I was tearfully honest with both Dr. Watson and the 24-hour clinic.  Both were understanding and accommodating, none of us wanting to give up if she still had a chance.  We worked out an alternative plan of treatment that had about the same chance of success, but was much more affordable.  It did require someone at home to provide round-the-clock care, but fortunately I did have that available.

I faithfully followed up with Dr. Watson at Tech Ridge Pet Hospital, stopping by to refill medications or to purchase Science Diet A/D food and Barleygreen in efforts to increase Lavy’s weight and appetite.  Her numbers, though, were not improving.  I was told to expect Lavy’s red blood count to decrease as she re-hydrated, but at her follow-up visit a week later, her count was at 10%–the absolute minimum to sustain life.  Knowing that chances were not good but that she seemed to be rallying in response to treatment, we took her back home.  The whole time, Dr. Watson (himself!) called every few days to check on her progress and to see if we needed any advice.  We were very impressed with his far-above-professional interest in our little love.

For almost another week, she seemed to improve–two Saturdays ago, it was all we could do to keep her from jumping out of the box in which we were keeping her (Dr. Watson had urged us not to allow Lavy to jump or even to walk on her own–with so few cells to carry oxygen, any exhertion could kill her).  The next day, Sunday, she wasn’t even able to stand.  Still, she had recovered before from “bad days,” so we weren’t losing all hope yet.

This time, though, there was no rally.  Lavy stayed the same until Wednesday night.  Hubby and I were giving Lavy her medicine (mixed with A/D), but this time instead of fighting us with wriggling and paw escape attempts, she clamped her jaw shut tight.  I got a little more of 3/4 of the mixture down her using a food syringe, but when I tried to administer the rest, Lavy looked at the two of us and plaintively meowed.  Lavy NEVER meows.  I looked at Hubby and said “I think she’s asking us to let her go.”  He agreed.

Thursday morning, Lavy was too weak for any medicine and had no interest in food or water.  She was held and loved all day.  At 5:35 last Thursday, Lavy breathed her last.  I called the clinic to say I was coming by with the body (as we have no where here to properly return her to the earth).  How appropriate–again, we arrived 10 minutes before closing.  Lavy was in a cloth-lined wicker basket that Hubby and I had bought several weeks ago in case she didn’t make it.  Inside the basket, Lavy looked like one of those kitties sleeping in the smallest space into which they could fit–complete with tail across her face.  It was a sweet-looking image.

I thought that would wrap things up until next year, when Baby Sally Semi-Meezer is due for her next annual shots and check-up.  I was amazingly wrong.  Today, in my mailbox was a card addressed to the family from Tech Ridge Pet Hospital.

“How sweet,” I thought, expecting a generic condolence card with the name of the practice neatly laser-jetted beneath the printed sentiment.

How incredibly wrong I was–fantastically, overwhelmingly wrong.  Inside the card with the beautifully-silhouetted black-and-white photo of a cat, were HANDWRITTEN condolences from EVERY member of the staff, and an entire paragraph written by Dr. Watson himself to comfort us on our loss.  Also enclosed was a card with Lavender’s name written in a gorgeous calligraphy and her two dainty pawprints.  I have promised my daughter that I will frame the pawprints for her to keep always.

Every consumer expects customer service.  Every business is exhorted (especially in these tough times) to give the customers more than they expect.  The attention that Dr. Watson gave us, whom he didn’t know from Adam a month ago, goes indescribably above and beyond any definition of customer service and attention to detail.

This is beyond being a good businessman–this is being a wonderful human being.  All I can do is tell everyone I can what a jewel is found at Tech Ridge Pet Hospital.  This, Dr. Watson and staff, is for you.  God bless each and every one of you–pressed down and running over.

How to Deal With Spam Scams

The Benevolent and Protective Wingleader, Instinct, was insistent (in his kind-hearted, yet gruff manner) that I post the following.

It all started with another member of our conservative cabal, Michael (husband to the lovely laborer over lumpia, Jennifer), who forwarded a new take on that old chestnut, the Nigerian Official-in-trouble spam scam.  Here’s the original letter, as forwarded by Michael. (Thanks, buddy–with friends like you, who needs enemies?)

INTERNATIONAL CRIMINAL POLICE ORGANIZATION

(INTERPOL)

WASHINGTON DC

EMAIL: interpol@gestores.com (EDITORIAL NOTE:  links have been deactivated in the absolute likelihood that there is SOMEONE in cyberspace stupid enough to click on it!)

To Whom It May Concern,

This is to formally notify you that the agents of the Federal Bureau Of Investigation from Albany New York has just visited us this morning to report your case regarding a huge fund that was issued on your favour from Cotonou, Republic Of Benin.

The said fund they said does not carry any official document’s that certified that the fund was free from being laundered and they claimed that you have been informed of the case since past two weeks but fail to comply with them by paying the clearance charges of $450.00 according to them.

The report was brought to us given that we are the International Criminal Police Organization and you are therefore deemed as a non law abiding citizen of the United State Of America which now means that you will come up against us the INTERPOL.

But given that we have not heard from you to know what the situation is then we have suspended the immediate arrest until we heard from you but failure to hear from you within four (4) working days will lead to we coming straight to your home address for rapid arrest as all your contact details was submitted by the FBI.

Get in touch with us immediately so that we will advise you on what next to do to avoid getting yourself in a very dip problem that you will live to regret. Note that we are working for the interest of the whole world which means for your good and for the good of the rest of the world.

Below here are where you will contact us to advise you on what to do next to solve out the problem

Secretary General’s Name: Ronald K. Noble

Email: interpol@gestores.com

Be urgent because your failure to respond immediately will lead us to swing in legal action against you with immediate effect.

Thanks,

Ronald K. Noble

Secretary General

What, then, was my first reaction to this laughable attempt to be intimidating threatening?  What can I say?  I pulled out my RED PEN OF SEVERE DISPLEASURE and bled all over it.They don’t call me the “Grammar Nazi” at the school where I work for nothing–so since I felt my reputation was at stake, I went and edited “Secretary General Noble’s” letter.  Take a look.

INTERNATIONAL CRIMINAL POLICE ORGANIZATION

(INTERPOL)

WASHINGTON DC

EMAIL: interpol@gestores.com

To Whom It May Concern,

This is to formally notify (split infinitive) you that the agents of the Federal Bureau Of Investigation from Albany New York has (should be “have”–subject/verb agreement) just visited us this morning to report your case regarding a huge fund that was issued on your favour from Cotonou, Republic Of Benin.

The said fund (insert comma) they said (insert comma and choose another verb with similar meaning) does not carry any official document’s (OOH, my pet peeve–using apostrophes to make plurals!  Wrong, wrong, WRONG!!!!!!!!!!!) that certified that (too many “that”’s–revise) the fund was free from being laundered and they claimed that you have been informed of the case since past two weeks (“FOR” the past two weeks, not “since”) but fail (should be in the past perfect tense in order to agree with the other verbs in the same sentence) to comply with them by paying the clearance charges of $450.00 according to them (omit last three words; they are redundant).

The report was brought to us given that we are (awkward and stilted phrasing) the International Criminal Police Organization and you are therefore deemed as a non law abiding (should be “non-law abiding”) citizen of the United State Of America (check your political geography; we are the “United States of America”–PLURAL)which now means that you will come up against us the INTERPOL(too collouqial and awkward at the same time–revise).

But given that we have not heard from you to know what the situation is (insert comma) then (omit) we have suspended the immediate arrest until we heard (should be simple present tense) from you (insert comma) but failure to hear from you within four (4) working days will lead to we (change “we” to “us”) coming straight to your home address for rapid arrest as all your contact details was (should be “were”–subject/verb agreement)submitted by the FBI.

Get in touch with us immediately so that we will (add “be able to”) advise you on what next to do to avoid getting yourself in a very dip (this word makes no sense here; perhaps you meant “deep”?  If so, again, it is unprofessionally colloquial–revise) problem that you will live to regret (threats are so IRS–revise). Note that we are working for the interest of the whole world which means for your good and for the good of the rest of the world (this sounds incredibly wimpy; especially if you are attempting to maintain an intimidating tone).

Below here are where you will contact us to advise you on what to do next to solve out the problem (Awkward and stilted to the point of incomprehensibility.  Get a native speaker to help you!!!!)

Secretary General’s Name: Ronald K. Noble

Email: interpol@gestores.com

Be urgent because your failure to respond immediately will lead us to swing in legal action against you with immediate effect (Again, your poor language choices make what is intended to be intimidation become incredibly laughable).

Thanks,

Ronald K. Noble

Secretary General

Gee, I hope Sec’y Gen. Noble appreciates my efforts.  Perhaps I should send him a bill.

Dear Word Press,

First, let me say that (all in all) you have a great service here.  Up until now, my biggest problem is that I just don’t have a lot of time to blog.  In all fairness, there’s not much you can do about that.  It’s just unfortunate for my readers (both of them), that I don’t seem to be able to do much about it either.

That’s not the reason for this letter, though.  There have been some changes to the blog generator as of late, and quite frankly, I don’t like them.  There are a plethora of symbols to my left as I type my draft that seem to serve no purpose other than to annoyingly put a dialog box where I am trying to type every time I move my cursor out of the way.  I can’t see what I’m typing when there is a dialog box (that I never wanted in the first place) in my way.

I had a system, I liked it, but now there’s a bunch of usurpers getting in my way.  There are plenty of symbol buttons above my draft box.  Either make more rows, or give me a way to make the ones on my left go away, please.

The biggest problem, though, is my sudden seeming inability to insert pictures into my posts.  As you can see from my last post (nearly a month ago), I had no problem then.  But for the last week or so, I have made innumerable attempts to make a new entry, but I needed photos (ok, jpeg’s–stinkin’ new terminology) to illustrate my point.  In fact, without them, I had no point.

Problem is that when I use the handy-dandy “add an image” or “add media” buttons, it won’t do it.  I’ve tried everything–browser uploader, flash uploader, nothing works.  Yes, they’re jpeg’s–the same type I’ve successfully uploaded so many times before.  But now all I get when I view my drafts/posts is a link I have to click to see the photo.  If I wanted a link, I’d add a link.  I want both my readers to see an image, dammit.  Is that too much to ask?

To sum things up, to make me happy I’d want:

1. less clutter on the draft page.  My technological expertise is on the PhD level–”Push here, Dummy.”  I’m overwhelmed and confused.  I can handle Word, although I’m still struggling to make the changes in the 2007 version (I’ve only had it since last April, after all).
2. the “add image” button to actually ADD an image instead of a link.

I figure if GM and Chrysler can keep asking for all those billions without a modicum of shame, that these simple (and free!) requests would not be too presumptious.

Pretty Please?  With sugar lumps on top?

Sincerely,

gatakitty

“NutraSweet Pink”: Marketing Deception or Health Danger?

Today was that rarest of days–when my co-workers and I had time and ability to go out to lunch together at a local chain steakhouse/buffet establishment.  You know the type–where they have a bodacious array of foods you can get quickly at the buffet, or you can order the too-thin, over-seasoned cheap cut of steak.  The rolls are always to die for, though.

I got my meat-and-three (vegetables, if you’re not from the South) and ordered my unsweetened iced tea.  When it arrived, I absently reached for the little pink packet of saccharine (I use Splenda at home, but one individual restaurant pack is insufficient for a large glass of iced tea.  One pack of saccharine, however, always does the job nicely).

Luckily for me, something on the little pink packet caught my eye before I opened it–this yellow swath that read “100% Saccharine Free.”  Well, I thought, if it’s pink and it’s saccharine free, then what the hell’s IN this???

Then I saw the rest of the front of the package and learned it was this:

NutraSweet's New Pink Packaging

Then I turned it to the back and read the ingredient list:  Dextrose (a complex sugar similar to sucrose, which is the cane sugar so readily available) with maltodextrin, Acesulfame Potassium (the generic name for aspartame, the ingredient branded as NutraSweet), and something called “Neotame”–maybe it came from the Matrix.

This innocent-looking packet on the restaurant table is a marketing deception of the most insidious sort and a potential health hazard.  Everyone knows that white or tan is sugar, pink is saccharine, blue is aspartame, and yellow is sucralose!  No one reads these labels anymore, and the makers of this new “NutraSweet Pink” are WELL aware of it!  In fact, I’d wager that they’re counting on it.

Under normal circumstances, it might be a bit of marketing genius–evil marketing genius no doubt, but still marketing genius.  What makes this intolerably insidious is the fact that a significant enough segment of the American public have a severe medical reaction to aspartame–caused by a genetic condition called phenylketonuria, in which the body is unable to break down the amino acid contained in aspartame.  Ingesting NutraSweet and its generic equivalents can cause severe brain damage in phenylketonuretics, and if you look carefully at any product containing aspartame, you will find a health warning about it.  Guess where the health warning was on my little pink packet?  If you said “nowhere,” give yourself a gold star.

While I am not a phenylketonuretic, I do avoid aspartame as much as possible because it gives me terrible headaches–a common side effect.  As said before, Splenda seems to be the lesser of three evils, and it is what we keep at home due to diabetes in the family.

Folks, let the people who have unleashed this danger on the public know that we will not tolerate this deceptive health hazard!  NutraSweet originally packaged their product in blue to distinguish it from rival Sweet’N Low.  Now they’re ADOPTING pink to make us think their product IS Sweet’N Low.

Let’s not stand for this!  The producers of this abomination, according to my little deceptive pink packet, is below.  Sadly, I couldn’t find a website.  If either of you out there in cyberspace do, let me know and I’ll add a link.

Domino Foods, Inc.

1 Federal St.

Yonkers, NY, 10705

Refuse to be suckered by NutraSweet.  Let Domino Foods know your displeasure.  But if you do nothing else, make sure you read those little pink packets carefully from now on.  It matters.  It matters big.

Oh, yeah, as I was leaving the restaurant, I suddenly realized that in my distraction over the deceptive pink imposter, I had forgotten to get a roll.  Thanks for less than nothing, NutraSweet.