Lower My Premiums

As I received the 6-month renewal for my car insurance, I was not surprised but was extremely annoyed that the rates have gone up. Again. I really didn’t get it because first of all, I haven’t had any violations (moving or otherwise) in well over ten years. My car is six months older and so am I. You’d figure the rates would at least stay the same, right? So I contacted my carrier to get an explanation. Imagine my shock when I found out that my rate is based, not on my car and driving record, but on the cars, ages and driving records of the drivers in my area. Yeah, go figure. I’m being penalized for the idiocy of others. So I came up with a few ideas for local drivers, just throwing them out there for those who care to listen, as a way to lower my insurance.

First of all, slow down. Yes, you will get there a few minutes later but if you need to be there sooner, you should have left home earlier. I should not have to pay extra because you hit the snooze too many times or you needed an extra cup of joe and ended up running a red light, smashing into a little old lady on her way to bingo.

Similarly, when it’s raining buckets and cans and there are two inches of water…or more…on the roads, slow down. You can’t stop as fast as on dry roads and you can’t see what’s coming. Living in a state where, when it rains, it really pours, I constantly see people acting like they are on a Sunday drive…with attitude. But a fair word of warning, if you hit my car or injure one of my passengers, you will seriously know what attitude is. Grow a brain.

Stop trying to get one car ahead. The bumper you are currently riding is fine. You don’t need to ride the bumper of the guy in front of him. I honestly had a driver following me recently, practically in my back seat, for about a mile who whipped his car around mine (nearly sideswiping me) to get off at an exit 500 feet ahead. I just don’t get it. And just for the record, if you are riding MY bumper, count on me driving at least five miles under the speed limit just for spite. I’m like that.

Some advice to the young male drivers. Put the back of your driver’s seat in the front. You do not need to pretend you are in a lounge chair to look cool. Try looking cool while you are at the mall or your girlfriend’s house. When you are in the car, driving 90-to-nothing, put your seat up. Reclining only blocks your view. And it makes you look ridiculous. Show some maturity.

Don’t ride the right turn lane. If you need to turn right, wait until you get to the arrow on the road that says “Now You May Turn Right.” In the two years I’ve worked along a six-lane highway, I have seen quite a few accidents where someone is riding that lane and someone else turns (where they are supposed to) and we hear the screech and smash. We saw one earlier this week as a matter of fact. Just turn where you are supposed to and make sure you look in your mirror for the possibility of an idiot riding the lane before turning.

My last bit of advice is to beware of the wave of death. That happens when you are trying to make a left turn across three lanes of traffic and you get waved over by the guy in the lane nearest you. You really don’t know if the second and third drivers are going to wave you over as well. They’re just as likely to keep going if the line in front of them moves. Or, as in the aforementioned accident, there is a fool riding the right turn lane. In this instance, the lady who received the wave got smacked by the fool, knocking her in to an innocent driver who was waiting at the stop sign. On a related note, I knew a couple with a communication problem…the wife, who was the passenger, did the wave and her husband, the driver, didn’t see her and started moving. Passengers should not do the wave.

Ironically enough, the news this morning had a story about how Baton Rouge has some of the highest insurance rates in the country. They blame having two universities, which adds to younger, more inexperienced drivers on the road. More accidents. They went on to mention poor road conditions and DWI drivers who are still driving even though they have more than one violation and are driving with suspended licenses. I disagree with all these theories. Every city has inexperienced drivers. I’m from Pennsylvania, worst road conditions in the US and drunks drive everywhere in the United States on suspended licenses. I blame greed, not only from the insurance companies but from people who sue others because they had a fender bender, ruined their manicures and had a twinge in the big toe of their left foot. But then again, it’s just my opinion.

The bottom line, I think, is that people are usually in too much of a hurry or too distracted by the text messages to actually pay attention. Others are just bad drivers or don’t really care about their fellow man so accidents will continue to happen and my insurance rates will continue to rise. I’m thinking my only solution is to sell my car and start taking the bus.

Quizzing

My latest obsession is taking the quizzes on Facebook. If you spend any amount of time on the site, you know the ones I’m talking about. They ask you questions to define your personality which in turn determines where you should go, what you should do or who you should be. A lesser person would be quite unsettled by these things but someone like myself…bossy, boisterous and irritating…I find them hilarious and entertaining. Thus, my obsession.

 

As a for instance, I have found that my dominant personality trait is prudence. Prudence? I think this one is a little off as I am definitely not tactful, vigilant or circumspect. But then again, neither am I rash nor reckless. I guess loud and outspoken or nosy wouldn’t be as nice of an answer as prudence. Perhaps the quiz masters need to be politically correct in their answers.

 

They didn’t fare any better with the question of what kind of storm I am. My answer was ice storm. I am definitely thinking no. My temper runs too hot and heavy for ice to be anywhere near me. A more apt response for me would be a fire storm. Or even a hurricane. But ice? No way.

 

Why I did the quiz about what extreme sport I would try, I have no idea. Not the extreme sport kind of gal. But my sport, if I so chose to take the challenge, would be sand kiting. First of all, I have no clue what it is. Second, the only thing I do in the sand is lay there and soak up the sun. And lastly? I would definitely be on a zip line if anything. And even that is a little iffy.

 

Flirtatious, fearless, factual or friendly? I got fearless. Now I’m not going to be nit picky here but pretty much all of these (with the exception of factual) would have fit me just fine. Anyone who knows me can tell you I am an outrageous flirt and I’m always friendly to anyone who hasn’t pissed me off in the past (and even then, I forgive and forget easily). I usually get my facts straight but does that make me factual? Don’t know and it really doesn’t matter in the long run.

 

They got it right on the ball with the question of what my brain is good at. Linguistic thinking. I wouldn’t be much of a writer if it weren’t, now would I? Although I sometimes have my doubts about whether I am a worthy wordsmith, I usually get the punctuation correct, rarely misspell anything and almost always get the grammar goodly. And that’s all that counts as long as you have an idea in your head to put on paper. Right?

 

My life song? Sexy and I Know It by LMFAO. Nothing needs to be added. As long as I know it, that’s all that matters.

 

They also were correct on what kind of TV mom I am. Peg Bundy. With a little more brain power though. Granted, if I were Peg, Al would have gotten hit on the head with a large object long ago and would be residing on the nearest ocean floor.  Maybe Roseanne would have been a better answer?

 

My favorite of all the quizzes would be this…Do I have what it takes to be a millionaire? I. Got. 99%! Yup, the big time. Of course, with the way things go in my life, I will straddle that 1% until I’m dead and buried. But if I do make it, the first thing I plan on buying? No, not a car or a big, fancy house. My first purchase would be a No!No! For those of you who have no clue what this is…it’s a $280 hair removal thingee. It promises there will be no nicks or cuts or in my case, gashes. I will be hair free for up to eight weeks. And I will never again have to rip my hair out by the roots with hot wax or tweezers. Yessiree, I’m getting a No!No!. It will have to wait until pigs fly or horses crawl out of my butt but I will have one.

 

My point in all of this, other than to annoy or amuse you, is to encourage you to try one of these tests if you haven’t already done so. They mean nothing but you can get a good laugh out of your answers. Just take it from me, I wouldn’t steer you wrong.

 

PS…after I wrote all of this, I learned that my Disney villain personality is most like Scar from The Lion King and my Pirates of the Caribbean alter-ego is Will Turner. Oh, and I also have a bipolar disorder. There really is no point in my telling you this. None at all. Just wanted you to know.

Under A Rock

Did you ever have one of those weeks when just about everything you think about, attempt to do or look at makes you wish you could hide under a rock somewhere? Have you? I just had one of those weeks. Has anyone else been there? Like when...


You look in a mirror and realize that not only are you having a bad hair day but you have a quarter inch of gray roots showing and still another week left until you are due to color? I blame my mother for this...I inherited the gray hair gene from her.


You notice that people in the obituaries are getting closer to your age? You tell  yourself, wow, people are dying younger and younger these days? OK, so that sounds morbid, doesn't it? (Sort of fits my mood.) Read on...


You also notice in those same obituaries that your parent's friends are slowly dying off one by one? And that you really need to stop reading that section of your hometown paper?


You say something you think is very prolific and get told by a five-year-old that what you said is ridiculous? Or worse yet, he just gives you that look? The one that makes you feel about 100 years old and feeble. Or stupid. Or both.


You see a Facebook post showing that one of your dearest friends is celebrating her 48th wedding anniversary? Yes, Lynn, that would be you. Congratulations on not only being married that long but for training your man early on how to be a good husband. Actually, this one doesn't make me want to find the rock to hide under. I just wanted to give a shout out to my friend. But it does make me realize that if I ever want to make it that far, I will have to find someone and marry him TODAY, then live to be 96 or thereabouts. So, it just ain't gonna happen for me. Not that I couldn't live that long; just that it's late in the day, I'm in my PJ's already and not planning on going out.


You have moved far away from your friends and then you realize (again, via Facebook) that they are doing fun things like they did when you were there, only now they are doing them without you??? I guess I should have told them beforehand that all that needed to stop when I hit the state line. They were supposed to sit morosely in a corner and miss me terribly.


You file for divorce and realize that you have been down this road before? Ok, so this one is just a personal thing but I'm sure it could happen to others. And probably has. Not wishing it on anyone. I'm a big fan of long, happy marriages (see several paragraphs above). And not that I'm upset about it since I'm long past ready to close that chapter in my life. Just sad that I have to go through all the aggravation again. Because this time I'm a grownup.


You think you are ready to end the week with a job well done, all your work is caught up and you can enjoy your long weekend and POW...your boss loads you up again? Yup, just checked in my file and she piled it on. Well, damn it, I'm having a weekend! I'm not going to think about what kind of workload I will have next week. And I'm definitely not going to think about how excited that  makes me because in a sick sense, I love being overloaded with work. Makes me shiver in anticipation...not really, but I do enjoy it.


Now where in the world is that rock?

That's What He Said

I’d forgotten how much fun it is to listen to a five-year-old talk. They start having their own opinions and have learned to express them. They tell stories. And they have their own way of pronouncing words that you really should correct but it’s so funny that you let them say it their way just to get a giggle out of it. Ok, so maybe that’s just us. Elijah has quite a few words that he says with his own spin on them.  You may not find it as ticklish as we do but I hope you get just a small chuckle out of my favorites.

Honk. No, I don’t mean the beep of a car horn. I mean the big green guy on cartoons, known to you and I as the Hulk. I can’t even spell it the way he says it but even when I correct him, this one comes out honk.

Wildgreens. We have all been there. They sell prescriptions and other various and sundry items. The rest of us call it Walgreens.

Forout. I have to use this one in a sentence. “Don’t leave forout me, Yaya.” Yes, he means without. I tried correcting him on this one a few times but he assured me that I had it wrong. Don’t even know where he came up with this.

Manclift. It’s a bucket truck. I have also learned in the last week that this does not include the kind that comes without a vehicle (i.e. scissor lift). Those are actually manlifts. A manclift has a truck attached. He is so wild about these things that I searched high and low at Christmas time to find one in miniature size. I seriously went to at least ten stores before I found one at Target. As for his explanation? Yeah, I didn’t get it either but I’m not going to ask again because then I’ll get the “patient” look from him.

Repavement. You would think that this has something to do with roads or construction equipment, knowing my boy. But no. This is repayment. Whenever we give him a special treat or allow him to watch something on TV, we ask for a repayment in the form of a hug or a kiss along with his thank you. It’s his repavement.

Dombells. These are hand weights. I’m told they are definitely not dumbbells. Absolutely not.

Bold. I told him last night that he was a very bold child. He said “No I’m not. I have hair.” He also pronounces it “ba-old.” Turning this boy from Yank to Southern in no time. (he’s also picked up the y’all.)

Some day he will get these right. But in the meantime? We’re having a lot of fun listening to him. Especially since, like most males, he is absolutely positive that the way he says things is the way they should be said.

It's Good For You...Or Not

It seems that the American Medical Association and whoever else that makes decisions about what products/foods/medications are healthy for you (or not) change their minds a lot. One day, something is the greatest thing since sliced bread; the next, it’s gonna kill you. I get so confused.

Did you know that in the 1940’s and 50’s, cigarettes were physician tested and approved? That doctors were used in magazine ads boasting about the best brands of cigarettes? If you went to the doctor as a smoker with a sore throat, they suggested you switch to a “smoother” brand. (I actually had a physician who was a smoker when I was a child. He eventually died of lung cancer.) Now cigarettes are known to cause lung and heart disease, stroke, innumerable types of cancer and other things they have not yet discovered, I’m sure. This goes from one end of the spectrum clear to the other.

Vegetarian diets, once touted as the healthiest of all eating habits, can make you seriously ill. Unless done correctly, that is. When I was growing up, eating vegetarian (as the name implies) meant you only ate vegetables. No meats. No animal by-products such as eggs, milk, cheese and the like. No one knew that you had to replace the protein in these products by eating nuts and protein-containing foods. Well, we know now.

I read recently (yesterday, in fact) that you should not take vitamin supplements. Definitely not. They do you more harm than good, say the good physicians who have taken their precious time to research this matter. Lab rats must be going crazy over this one. Billions of dollars are spent each year at GNC and other fine retail stores on supplements each year and now, yes now, they are telling us, “Stop! These will kill you!” I have to admit I am a supplement junkie. Well, not really a junkie. But I do take garlic, calcium and a daily multi, among other things. I have done so for many years and will continue until they take those bad boys off the shelf. I am very careful not to exceed my daily recommended doses of anything. Of course, they may be changing all those RDA’s to zero if those who must be obeyed get their way.

The latest in germ warfare? Antibacterial soaps have chemicals that can make you seriously ill. I never bought into the theory that you needed more than regular soap and water to make remove germs so I’m in no danger (in case you were worried). But again, this is another big industry about to hit the skids if the secret gets out…and it has gotten out. So much so that we have taken to calling hand sanitizer “hand poison” at my house.

Some of the other “discoveries” (AKA, ways our tax dollars are being spent) that have made headlines and heads scratched are so totally out there. For instance…

Sodas cause obesity? They sure do. And not just sugary drinks. Diet drinks as well.  If you asked me, I’d say that heredity and parents who don’t teach their children healthy eating/drinking habits have more to do with obesity than anything else but I’m no expert. Oh, and by the way, the fake sugar they are putting in those diet sodas has been known to cause cancer in lab rats.

Do NOT cook your steaks (or anything else) on a charcoal grill. Charcoal causes carcinogens to attach to your food. I think this goes for gas grills too but don’t quote me on that. Personally, I’ve burned anything that had the misfortune to make it on to my grill to the point that it was inedible, so my family is safe.

Microwave popcorn can be toxic. Apparently the chemical that makes it smell so good, diacetyl produces a lethal gas. Right now, it’s only harmful to those who make the stuff (called popcorn lung) but if it’s dangerous to them from just smelling it, what’s the chance it’s a hazard to eat it? That will be the next thing on the list.

Sunflower oil, peanut oil, olive oil, canola, corn or vegetable? I can’t keep up with which ones are supposed to be good for you. Or, as they put it, less harmful. I’ve made the decision to go with what I have a coupon for or is on sale. With the exception of olive oil. But even with that, do I go with regular, virgin or extra virgin? I don't know WHAT to buy anymore. It used to be easier.

And then there is alcohol. How much is too much? A glass of wine a day is good for you. No, wait, no it isn’t. Beer has ingredients that can protect against kidney stones. Or does it? We are now being told that alcohol can cause mental illness, sleep deprivation, aggression, dependence, dehydration, certain types of cancer and the list goes on and on.

Stress? Well, that is a real killer. It can cause headaches, chest pain, fatigue, sleep problems, anxiety, depression, drug or alcohol abuse, social withdrawal, lack of motivation, overeating, stomach upset…shall I continue? I don’t think so. Who knew, way back when, that just the simple act of going to work or balancing your check book could affect your life in detrimental ways? I think we were better off not knowing. Of course, to combat stress, you can do yoga or tai chi, practice meditation or relaxation techniques…until they tell us that those things may cause a myriad of other problems.

Basically, I think that scientists and those in the medical profession are telling us that the human race is doomed. We need to go back to Little House on the Prairie days, when you ate what you had and there was no one telling you things that only made you worry about what was going in or on your body. We would all be a little more relaxed and a lot happier. That’s where I’ll be if anyone is wondering. I’m breaking out of my plastic bubble (the one that probably causes uterine cancer) and heading there now.

A Sticky Mess

It is our habit when we go Sam’s Club or Walmart to get Elijah a gumball out of the machine when we're done if he’s a good boy while we are shopping. He always hopes for a Mover Blue one but takes what comes out anyway. We’ve never had an issue with him chewing gum…other than reminding him not to chew with his mouth open. He always gnaws it to death and then throws it away. No problem…until last weekend.

I happened to walk across our dining room after a trip to the store and got a sticky feeling on my toe. To my surprise, it was a piece of his gum from that day. I peeled it off, threw it away and went to find the boy. After a scolding, he promised never again. He said it fell out of his mouth and he “forgot” to pick it up. Ok, no biggie. The only piece that was on the carpet was the one that attached itself to my foot. No damage done.

It wasn’t until later on that night at bath time that my daughter found the rest of his wad. In his hair. Thick-as-a-girl’s hair which needed cut badly. We tried combing it out after shampooing. Then peanut butter. Then butter. All we needed was bread for an Elijah PB sandwich. A friend suggested vegetable oil. Nothing doing. It was stuck to his scalp. Out came my clippers.

Now cutting Elijah’s hair is like trying to…well, let’s just say the boy can’t sit still for anything. He wiggles. He looks up. He looks down. He jumps. He shrugs. I’ve been cutting his hair for almost a year now because I can’t see paying $15 plus tip to get an uneven cut due to the aforementioned movement. I can give him an uneven cut for free. Actually, I do a pretty good job with my professional clipper/razor unit. I’ve even learned to move in time with his gyrations.

Anyway, back to the gum debacle. He had it ground in to the roots. I tried cutting it out. It just left gaping holes. So I trimmed, we considered, I trimmed some more. He wiggled and jiggled. But to get it all out, I finally had to put on my smallest attachment and more or less shave him almost bald. But the gum is out. And now he looks something like this. Actually he looks just like this…

 

He keeps rubbing his head and saying mournfully “I’m ba-old”. Poor honey.

When the boy does something, he does it all the way. Even if it's something like smashing gum into his scalp. At least his hair will grow back and as fast as his grows, I’ll be getting the clippers out again in no time. As for his gum chewing career? We’ll be sticking to apples as a bribe for a while.

As He Grows

Sometimes being a grandparent is so much cooler than being a parent, especially in the early stages of a child’s life. I remember being proud of my kid’s milestones but in the stress-filled haze of working full time and taking care of them, the exhaustion of being a mom was overwhelming. With Elijah, I can sit back and watch the fun for the most part. I’m fortunate in that he lives with me and I get to see most of his evolving first-hand. It amazes me how he has, from almost the beginning, focused on one passion for an unbelievably long time before moving on to the next. And, as he is four, he has had four major interests in his life.

In his first year, he was all about sports. He would sit on our laps from the tender age of a few months and watch the Pittsburgh Penguins play hockey. You did NOT get in between Elijah and the television. To do so would bring on a tantrum of epic proportions. He watched the entire Penguins 2009 Stanley Cup win even though he was only four months old. He learned to wave a Terrible Towel during the 2009 Steeler season and wore his Troy Polamalu jersey with pride…as much pride as a child that age can have anyway. Even today, although he doesn’t watch sports anymore, his Sidney Crosby Penguin jersey is one of his favorites.

Animals replaced sports in his second year. Cows say moo and ducks say quack. But sheep? They say baa! There was a sheep farm near his daycare center and Elijah knew it. He would start “baa’ing” on school days as soon as we put him in his car seat until we got near the farm. We would automatically slow down so he could look at the sheep while we drove past. One spring day, I drove out in the country and found another sheep farm. Elijah was thrilled when I stopped, took him out of the car and carried him to the fenced-in field. He baa’d loudly and soon enough, all the spring lambs came running to the fence hoping for food. He was ecstatic.

We also took him to the county fair for the first time that year. A young boy’s heaven…at least it was for Elijah. Barns and sheds full of cows, sheep, horses and pigs. Llamas, chickens and bunnies. Ducks and geese. He had no interest in the rides or food. Only the animals caught his eye. He wanted to pet everything so we had to have eagle eyes to protect his little fingers that seemed to be poking in to every cage or stall, regardless of what was inside waiting to nip them.

 

Age three brought on the construction equipment and trucks. Ditch diggers and bulldozers and rollers, oh my! Semis and tankers and dump trucks, holy cow! Our entire drive from Pennsylvania to Louisiana consisted of Imagination Movers music and ear-piercing screams of “Dump Truck!” Elijah knew what a truck stop was and we had to visit quite a few of them. I was willing as it made the long trip easier for him and more pleasant for my daughter and I.

 

Four is the era of the public servant. Every sheriff’s deputy that has been to our complex knows Elijah. We meet them at our numerous ER trips. Walmart always has one and each one there has been interrogated. We have one living in our apartment complex who is his best friend.

As I mentioned in a previous blog, we are currently visiting every fire station in our city and since it is a very large metropolis, we will be at it for the unforeseeable future. Every one we bless with our presence is amazed at the questions Elijah asks and the amount of time he spends looking at everything. From my point of view, you’ve seen one fire truck,  you’ve pretty much seen them all but not him. They are all new and exciting. And the station we visited last weekend had … OMG … fire poles! He was afraid to slide down one, even with the fire chief helping him, but he watched while the big man did it and was amazed and astounded. Well, maybe not that but he was pretty psyched.

Since it is the latest of his passions, Elijah is currently wearing a fire hat everywhere we go and has been for almost a year. He was a fireman for Halloween and wore the coat to his costume every day for the next week, taking it off only long enough for it to be washed. Since then, he wears it every time he goes outside or watches Fireman Sam (Sam is the hero next dooooooor….) He has fireman boots that he’s worn so often, there were holes in the bottom of them in less than six months. He has magnets, badges, stickers and coloring books given to him by the various firemen we have visited. He has a metal sign on his bedroom wall that says “Real Heroes Wear Boots” with a fire logo. Yes, he is enthused. Can you tell?

 

 

Since year number five is coming up quickly, I can’t wait to see what happens next. Knowing Elijah? Oh, it’s bound to be something epic and he will dive into it with boundless energy, determination and his own special brand of weirdness. And that is the greatest thing to watch.