I'm Writing My Book...and I need your help!

Before I get too rambly and start babbling, can I get a moment of silence in honor of a great woman?  Nora Ephron died this week, at the age of 71.  I loved her, for so many reasons, but most of all because when I read her stuff, it wasn't like I was reading.  It was like one of my favorite hens was perched next to me, sipping from a cup of coffee (or a glass of wine) and gabbing.  She was wise, she was honest, she was so incredibly good at what she did for a living.  The world lost a wonderful voice this week.  Rest in peace, Nora.  I'd like to imagine that she's up there in heaven right now, on a cushy couch, clucking with Dorothy Parker and Erma Bombeck.  Now that's a group of hens for ya. 

Ok, now back to me.

There's a guy who went to my high school, we were in the same class (85, bitches.  That's right. 1985.).  We didn't really interact much back in the day, but thanks to Mark Zuckerberg we have become what is now known as "facebook friends".  This particular guy grew up to become a best selling author.  He wrote a book about cold-calling, and I don't pry about money but I'm pretty sure it's made him a very, very comfortable man.

Anyhoo.  So not only is he a best selling author, he's also a pretty awesome guy.  He had seen some people mention my blog on The Facebook and sent me a message, asking for a link.

This always makes me pause.  Because, although I'm not embarrassed or ashamed of what I write about (ok, there are a few things I've written that make me cringe now.  But hey, that's life.) But it's kind of like if say, you're a teacher and one day while you're sitting in the teacher's lounge, eating your Lean Cuisine, another teacher says to you, "Hey, didn't I see you dancing at that Gentleman's Club last night?".   Ok, maybe not exactly like that.  Maybe more along the lines of Peter Parker getting caught in his Spiderman suit.  What I'm trying to say, is that it's kind of awkward exposing yourself to someone who only knows you as your Public Self. 

But I sent the link.  And assured him that, if we ever met in public, I'd totally understand if he couldn't make eye contact with me.

He wrote back, and told me that he liked my writing.  Again, this makes me pause.  Now, I'm not so delusional that I fancy myself to be a Writer, like with a capital W.  I like to write.  I write what's on my mind, and with me it's pretty much what you see is what you get.  I'm not well educated, I haven't taken classes or studied writing.  But I do enjoy stringing words together in order to tell a story.  When someone compliments me on it, I get a little flustered. 

After he told me he liked my writing, he told me another thing:  He thinks I should write a book.  And then, after that, he told me something else:  He wants to help me get it written.

We met for coffee last week.  He shared with me how he got to where he is today, and gave me some invaluable advice and motivated me like I've never been motivated before.  He told me about the post he read, the post that convinced him to contact me about the whole book thing.  It was the post I wrote about getting my new-to-me Ford Focus.  I wrote about how proud of myself I was, for buying a car with cash, for finally dumping my gas-guzzling SUV.  And then I wrote about how Big Daddy pulled up into my driveway in his new car, and how I felt my pride bubble deflate.

This man, who took time out of his busy life to have coffee with little old me, looked at me and said, "I want to be there when you're buying a $40,000.00 car, and paying for it with cash."  He said some pretty funny things about comeuppance and how living well is the best revenge, and then he said that he thinks my book is pretty much already written.  It's here, in my tiny blog.  It's a story of survival, of finding the silver linings in big black thundery clouds, even if it means dissecting said cloud and peering at the remains with a magnifying glass.  I write about divorce, about adultery, about hairy legs, about how agonizingly hard it is to parent teens, about eating your feelings, about that Smug Bastard George Clooney, about sex (and not having it.  And sometimes, having it.).  Some of you like it, and my friend from high school thinks that there are more people out there like you. 

So my friend and I came up with a sort of skeleton for my book:  it's going to be short stories, blurbs, essays, whatever you want to call them.  Basically, blog posts.  We're going to tweak them here and there, but like he said, most of it is already written.

Here's where you come in.  If you have a few minutes, could you please chime in and tell me if there is a particular post in here that resonated with you.  Maybe it was a post that made you laugh, or cry, or both.  Maybe it was a post that grossed you out (meaning any post that discusses my sex life) and made you oh so grateful about that fact that you're not me. 

I'm supposed to present him with five chapters, five posts that I think best represent The Happy Hausfrau.  I have a few ideas but I'd like to hear your opinions.

Thank you in advance for whatever input you provide, even if it's to tell me that I need to get my head out of the clouds and stop dreaming.  Or that you saw me in the Taco Bell drive thru the other day.

I'm kind of excited about this. 


It's not you, Comcast..it's me. How I cut the cord and got rid of cable.

Actually, it was them.  It was their lousy, sporadic service and their ever-increasing prices. 

I was a Comcast customer for 15 years.  Considering they were the only cable people in Minneapolis for over a decade of that time, that's not a huge deal...but still. 

I paid my bill on time, month after month, for all those years.  I didn't complain when my bill would go up, in little tiny increments, without warning or without explanation. 

I think the last straw was my April bill.  It was $180.00, up almost $30 from the month before.  Now, you may be wondering, what the hell was Broke Ass Jenny doing, paying over $150 a month to Comcast?  I was getting these services:

High speed internet  (that would go down (and not in a good way) at least four times a week)
One receiver upstairs (non HD, not a DVR, no premium channels...but there was On Demand)
One receiver downstairs (HD, not a DVR and again no premium channels)

That's it.  I justified it as an Entertainment expense, figuring that the kids and I aren't regular movie goers and let's face it, we love our t.v.  Ok, I love my t.v.  Give me a break, people.  Sometimes a lonely lady needs her stories to give her comfort. 

But back to the price hike:  This time I called 1-888-Com-cast and asked why my bill went up.  The Comcast rep, who was very nice (they are always pretty nice.  I can't say a bad thing about their phone people), explained to me that there was a price increase on the package I was currently subscribed to.  "Don't you tell people when their bill is going to go up by that much?"  I asked.  He said, "No."  I expressed my repulsion and anger (which, since I'm Minnesotan, went something like this..."ooooh.  Okay.  Have a great day now.").  When I hung up, though, the gloves came off.  I decided it was time to start the breakup process.

Like any breakup, this one wasn't easy.  I went over it in my head for days.  I thought about my other options...did my research, read tons of articles about "cutting the cord" and bidding adieu to cable.  We already had Netflix streaming, which we used mostly on the PS3 that is down in the mancave.  I decided to get a Roku player for the upstairs t.v.  I got mine at Target for about $60.00 and Charlie hooked it up in less than 5 minutes.

Then came the moment I was dreading.  The breakup call.  My finger shook as I pressed the number to Downgrade.  The customer service rep answered, all chipper and happy, not knowing the world of hurt that was about to invade her space.

"Umm...hi...hey, listen...I'd like to get rid of my cable television."  I paused, because I had heard allll about what Comcast will do when you call and ask to downgrade.  I'd heard the stories about credits, free Showtime and HBO, incredible bargaining on their part.  I wondered what Comcast would offer me, what they'd put on the table in order to keep our relationship going. 

The Comcast lady said, "Ok!  Let me just note that on your account.  Now, you want to get rid of all of it, right?  You'll have to return your equipment, ya know.  Let me look up the closest service center for you."

It was like when you work up the guts to tell a lovah that "It's time we go our separate ways" and instead of them crying or trying to convince you to stay, they say, "Yeah, you know what...you're right.  Hey, we can still be friends!". 

I felt a little bad.  Like Comcast was just waiting for me to do the dirty work.  Like they were feeling the same way and didn't say anything.  She was so quick to agree...

So anyhoo.  That was it.  I kept them as my internet provider because I hadn't thought that out yet, and of course they increased that price by about $20, but my new monthly bill was going to be about $60 total.  A nice change from the previous month's charge of $180. 

And then they came to cut my cable. 

Somehow, the guy who came to do the cutting thought his orders were to COMPLETELY cut us off.  So imagine my surprise when I tried to go online that afternoon and discovered that we no longer had internet.  No computer, no Roku, no wifi for my phone.  We were cut off. 

When I called Comcast this time, I was a little pissed.  The first person I talked to had me get down on my hands and knees, had me disconnecting and unplugging routers and modems.  She even had me outside at the actual cable box, unplugging stuff out there (really...let me know if you need some work done on your cable box.  I know my way around in there).   Nothing worked.  They sent another guy out to physically reconnect the internet line, but still...nothing that required internet worked.  I was going apeshit, and the kids were heading there with me.

So finally they transferred me to one of their Tech Specialists, who looked over my account and said, "Oh wow..your router is totally obsolete.  That may be your problem."  I said, "You mean the router I've been paying $7.00 a month for, for the past 2 years?".  He said, "Yes."  I asked him if it was standard Comcast policy to charge customers a monthly fee for obsolete equipment and he was all like, "Umm..no. Not usually."  I asked him if they ever provided updated equipment to their customers and he said, "Well, yeah, we can do that but if I was you?  I'd go buy a new router.  And probably a new modem too.  It's going to be cheaper that way in the long run."

Off I waddled to Target, again, to fetch a new router and a new modem (about $100 total).  Again, Charlie hooked both of them up in less than 5 minutes.  We were golden.  Online and feeling fine. 

So now we are a cable-free family.  We have our Netflix streaming, which is about $8.00 a month, and I did sign up with Hulu Plus for another $8.00 a month.  I'm not crazy about Hulu though...it's very glitchy and freezes constantly.  So I think we're going to ditch that. 

We are doing amazingly well without it.  I am flabbergasted by how fine the kids are doing without it, and as for my poor t.v. addicted self?  I'm doing fine too.  William and I watch a lot of Mythbusters on Netflix (oh yes, I'll bust a myth with you, Adam Savage, you bespectacled nerdy ginger), of course I've been weeping over Army Wives...and we supplement with the free codes from Red Box now and then. 

Oh, and about two weeks ago I got a call.  A call from Comcast, asking me how I'm doing.  Some old feelings came rushing back up to the surface but I pushed them back down.  I wanted to show Comcast how well I was doing without them.  They asked me if I've considered coming back, asked me if they could offer me anything, like maybe a premium channel.  Maybe a free DVR for a few months.

"That's sweet of you, Comcast," I answered.  I was gentle, kind.."but we're doing ok without you."

Before I hung up, I thanked them for calling me.

"Be well, Comcast", I said.

"Be well."





Today that number was over 1000. 

Yes, 1000.  At around noon today. 















Not mine.





She'll appreciate it.  Believe me.



Three on Thursday

Greetings, earthlings.  Greetings from Planet SUMMER.  We are just about done with Day Four of summer, and so far, so good.  I have to say, as much as it kills me to watch my kids grow up and farther away from that chubby gaggle of four sweet babies they used to be, there are definite advantages to having older kids.  Sure, they still fight, they still need random things like food, love and shelter...but it's nowhere near as all consuming as it used to be.  I don't panic when I can't pinpoint exactly where one of them is (at least not panic out loud.  In my head they are still chloroformed and folded up in the back of a pedophile's white cargo van).  If I have to be gone all day (I'm getting hours subbing for our school district preschool, yay!!), I can do so and only worry a tiny bit about coming home to a pile of burning rubble where the house once stood.  Yes, folks, the woman who spent the last week of school crying and wrapping herself in a cloak of melancholia is now seeing the silver lining.

And now, here's Three on Thursday.  Then I have to start studying for Trivia.  School's out, yo.  Back to my summer routine.  Last week I helped my team by knowing the name of the guy who played Urkel.  It's Jaleel White, and don't ask me how I knew that but on any given day wouldn't be able to tell you what any one of my kids was wearing.  You know, in case they're folded up in the back of a cargo van.  Sigh. 

1.  Have you been waiting with breathless anticipation to hear what my latest television addiction is?  I'm almost ashamed to admit this one.  It's Army Wives.  Yes, the Lifetime soap opera show that revolves around the lives of some women (and a dude) married to military guys.  I have been watching it for DAYS and I cannot stop.  And you know there are sexy military men to ogle at, right?  My favorite is the beefy kosher Delta Force guy, Chase Moran (played by Jeremy Davidson).  He's all kinds of steamy.  I think he looks like that one GI Joe doll, the one with the dark ginger beard...you know, this one:

What the hell is wrong with me?

2.  Mean Girl bullshit, when it happens in high school/college, is hurtful and torturous and a big bag of cruel.  Mean Girl bullshit, when it happens to women in their forties?  It's just pathetic.  Yes, I'm being cryptic because I don't want to perpetuate this garbage, but I will say this:  think carefully about what you say, and who is within earshot when you say it.  I once found a cute little picture at an estate sale.  A faded print with water spots and a dilapidated wood frame around it...it was in sorry shape but I had to buy it.  It shows two old biddies, rocking and knitting, with what has become one of my favorite sayings printed beneath them:

There is so much good in the worst of us
And so much bad in the best of us
That it hardly behooves any of us
To talk about the rest of us

Now, I'm not claiming sainthood here.  I've said things that I know I shouldn't have.  I have been catty, been snarky.  But it kills me to hear good friends being maligned.  Especially when it's coming from another good friend.  Ladies, be kind to each other.  Men have a shorter life expectancy than us, so someday we'll be all we have.  And you know we never forget a thing.

3.  Meet my new best friend:

It was less than $6.00 at Target and if I had to choose between this thing and another thing you bring to bed with you, I'd probably choose this. I may look like Mrs. Thurston Howell the Third when I wake up but it's ok (Walter hasn't complained yet).  Damn you, summer, with your high temperatures and your 5:30 a.m. sunrises.  I may not be able to change the weather but with my stunning new sleep mask I can at least snore a little later in the a.m. 

There's my three.  Now I have to study Dons, Rons, Swans, Johns and Khans.  That's one of the clues for Trivia tonight.  You know there will be a Ron Swanson question in there.  Yum.  We'll talk about that one later.

Stay tuned...I got rid of COMCAST CABLE and I'm gonna tell you allll about it.  If I can do it, anyone can.


Musings on a Monday


















And I couldn't be more proud.

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