Celebrity Shot: Connecticut drivers…you’re doin’ it wrong

Ok, so everyone just…relax. I don’t want anyone to get upset here but let’s face it, Lauren’s got a job now and I know you guys are bored. But before I entertain you, I suppose I should start off with an introduction.

To the long time readers of the blog, I am Boo. Yes, that’s right, it’s Boo and I’m posting since Lauren’s busy and I have a whole lot to say about Connecticut and none of it is all that pleasant.

Let’s take it back to my drive home yesterday when my roommate and I were on the road. We car pool any chance we get, but today was a particularly uneasy commute. The kids are out of school for the week so driving is more like a race to get home to make sure the kids aren’t knocked up, rather than get the kids home and feed them.

I finally said: “I call it now, there WILL be an accident today.” This was the result of constant stop-and-go-traffic and a Ford Explorer that was making apparent evasive maneuvers ahead of us. For anyone who doesn’t know, Connecticutians (seriously, you try and come up with a better way to recognize them) can’t drive.

I assume it starts when they go to the DMV at the age of 16. I can only imagine they lay their $60 down on the counter, they get their picture taken, and that’s it.

“Don’t I have to take a test or something?” they ask?

“Aw no, you’ll figure it out!” state the disgruntled DMV employee.

There are many potential battles in the Hartford metro area, but none are as grueling as the simple commute to and from work. I’ve seen a lot of things, and well, I’ve seen a NASCAR race or two in my day, and the two are very much alike. Let’s go through a few of the basics of driving in Connecticut, shall we? Too bad, you’ve read too far to turn around now anyway.

3 lanes!

The CT DOT has devised a wonderful 3-lane system of highways to alleviate the traffic concerns in the state. They even put signs up designating what the lanes are used for: passing lane on the left, driving lane in the middle, slow traffic on the right. Easy enough right? WRONG. You see, every lane in Connecticut is the passing lane! This leads to improper lane usage..blah blah blah…in essence, chaos. All traffic. All the time.

The merge

Who here has ever merged onto a highway before? I’m guessing that’s pretty much everyone, yeah? Well, in Connecticut people use the on-ramp for, well it can’t be for driving. When you merge onto a highway where most of the cars are going anywhere from 65-80, 45 miles an hour just isn’t going to cut it. So what happens? You guessed it, a line of cars waiting to merge onto the highway. Since a ton of people are merging this greatly defeats the 3-lane system and thus more havoc ensues. Also there is a lovely merge from 91-S to 95 where all 4 lanes, go to two lanes. Bottleneck you say? Not finished yet. That same two lanes then turns into 1 lane. Yes 1 lane for all of Connecticut apparently to gain access to one of the main extensions to New York. Don’t understand how this works? I’ve allotted the following illustration:

Precipitation

I could write a book on Connecticutians’…dare I say, shenanigans? But the last one here is really quite simple. It never precipitates here. What’s that? Fine, yes! I know, OF COURSE it rains and snows in Connecticut, but these people act like it’s a sign of the end times every time a little bit of water graces the pavement. If it’s raining there are at least 3 accidents on the way both to and from work. And when it snows, well, you can just expect your 15 minute commute to be about an hour and a half.

So that’s Connecticut driving in a nutshell. Occasionally people from New Jersey wander in and are quickly shown who the Boss is–and it’s not Springsteen. Connecticut drivers are not to be confused with Massachusetts drivers, or “MassHoles” which aren’t really bad drivers, just really fast and really scary. I’ve heard Rhode Island has by far the worst drivers, but to be honest, they are slow just like PA drivers are and though I’m no Skip Barber myself, I know where my turn signals are. Case in point, if you come to Connecticut be wary of these folk. Driving in Connecticut: they’re doin’ it wrong.

Must see TV Thursday is back…and it’s killing me

Last night was amazing. Ugly Betty, Grey’s, and LOST were back on the air. But then I faced the issue of NBC’s lineup. What am I supposed to do about 30 Rock, Scrubs, and The Office? I appreciate the fact that Must See TV Thursday is back (believe me) but I can’t handle this. It’s just way too much pressure. And please, for you DVR snobs, not all of us can afford fancy cable. And my VHS recorder gave up on life 3 years ago. I’ve got no shot here.

Hawaiian Breeze: 2, Lauren: 1–Game: Hawaiian Breeze

For those of you keeping score, Hawaiian Breeze has officially kicked my ass. That’s right. Some of you will remember that I found the contact information for the company who manufactures this crap product. I gave them a ring last night. Only to discover that I had to call during business hours. 9a.m.-5:30p.m. central time. Great guys, way to not even have method for receiving your questions and comments. I called back tonight and finally got a receptionist, who seemed to have no idea that her number was, in fact, the number to call for questions or comments. I explained the situation to her.

Me: Hi, is this the number for questions or comments?

Recp: Yes.

Me: Okay, well I bought your Hawaiian Breeze oscillating tower fan a few months ago and it doesn’t fan anymore. It just oscillates.

Recp: Okay, well are you calling just to comment, or did you want a replacement?

Me: Well, a replacement would be great since the thing just crapped out after 2 months.

Recp: Okay, just package the fan up and send it back to us with your return address and your original receipt and we’ll ship the replacement to you.

Me: I don’t have the receipt. I moved and I didn’t move all of my receipts with me. Especially not those for products that worked when I left home.

Recp: You can try taking it back to the store and they can exchange it with the receipt.

Me: Well, I don’t have the receipt. So am I just out of luck then?

Recp: You can try taking it back to the store and they can reprint a receipt.

Me: It’s Target, they won’t reprint the receipt.

Recp: You can try taking it back to the store and they can reprint a receipt.

Me: The. Store. Is. Target. They. Won’t. Reprint. The. Receipt. It’s their store policy.

Recp: Well, I don’t know their policy, but you can try taking it back to the store.

Me: Okay, but if I sent you the fan, you can clearly see that it doesn’t work. Does that mean nothing?

Recp: I agree that it’s broken but we can’t send a replacement without proof of purchase.

Me: I don’t have the proof of purchase. So, am I just out of luck?

Recp: You can try calling back in the morning and speaking to the president, but this is all I am authorized to say.

All you are authorized to say? Ohhhh, well that makes sense then! That’s why the conversation contained no more than 4 original sentences from your end. I really don’t understand this proof of purchase policy. You think what, exactly? That I stole a fan, broke it, and now want a new one? And will pay for the shipping to get it? If I already stole this fan, why would I not just steal another fan? Wouldn’t that be much easier. And much cheaper since, apparently, I’m too cheap to actually purchase this crap product.

You are not making any friends, Midia (USA) Inc. in North Great Southwest Prairie, Texas. But let’s be honest, how could I expect any help from people located in any place called North Great Southwest Prairie?

Good day, Monday

My roommate has a theory. There is a pet supply store by our apartment and my roommate passes it every day on her way to work. Some days there is a cat that sleeps in one of the little cat beds in the window. On the days that she sees the cat, she has a good day. On the days that she doesn’t, she doesn’t. Granted, this isn’t a hard and fast rule, but the tendency has been there so she subscribes to the theory.

I was actually on time for work today so we left the apartment at the same time. I took a wide turn and this threw my roommate off completely. But once I got myself back in line, we passed the pet store. My wide turn seemed to mess with the morning ritual and the cat was nowhere to be found. Just as my roommate was blaming my walking trajection, I found the cat. It was like a page out of Where’s Waldo. The cat was hidden on the top tier of one of those cat jungle gym things.

With the cat in our sights, we prepped for a good day. We boarded our train and pumped out the jams. She’d been reminded of 5ive, the boy band of “When the lights go out” fame so we each took an ear bud and got our groove on until she reached her stop.

Some 90’s jams pumping in my veins I walked into the office. After a few hours, they announced it: Cake! It was a co-worker’s birthday and we celebrated with a very tasty confection. (We also sang “Happy Birthday” but we weren’t very good and it was more like Happy Bday in rounds, “Row row row your boat” style).

I plan to keep my eyes peeled every morning from now on. When your week starts with in-office cake, there’s really no complaints you can make.

The Sunday Update: April 20, 2008–Wedding Edition

A good friend of mine from college just got engaged this weekend. In honor of her engagement, I’ve decided to dedicate this Sunday Update to the wonderful world of weddings.

CONGRATS SHER BEAR!! Hopefully these give you guys some ideas!

(the dance we’ll end up doing at my wedding)

and finally…

(but please, don’t wear a suit Sher)

Please DO feed the bears

The cousins were in the city from upstate tonight so we all went out to dinner in my ‘hood. (After the notorious first day that kept me from blogging but so saddened some of you that I had to post–even if it’s just a short one!)

We went to one of my favorite restaurants and were just finishing our dinners when a couple sat at the table next to us. Actually, they sat in shifts. First the girl. Then she left and the guy sat for awhile. Then he left and they both came back and sat down. Weird.

Our table reached a lull in the conversation (which is rare for Italians, let me tell you) and I heard this from the scowly lass at the next table:

I’m sorry, but I will NOT be pleasant until I eat something.

Her date tried to comment but she glared at him with such ferocity that he shut up mid-sentence. She tried to follow that with one of those “sorry I was bitchy but it’s been a long day” kind of comments, but really, the damage is done at the point. Her date didn’t say another word–in fact, he was 3/4 of the way through with his Guinness (while she’d wolfed down a few pieces of bread) before he even looked up again.

On the one hand, I’m scared of this chick. On the other, I’ve had those nights…and I wanna say I’ve thrown that line out a few times myself.

Patience is a virtue

To those of you who have been wondering where my posts are this week, sorry! I’m starting a new job and until I can figure out my schedule a bit, posts will have to be put on hold. But fret not, I’ll be back.

Hawaiian Breeze: 1, Lauren: 1

In my seemingly never-ending battle with my Hawaiian Breeze tower fan, it appears I will get the last laugh, after all. I went to CT this weekend to visit Boo and we did my favorite thing ever–a Target run! I needed a bunch of things and didn’t feel like paying double for everything in the city. While wandering the aisles, we happened upon the HB. After throwing some obscenities its way, I wised up and flipped the box over. There it was: Questions or Comments? Please call.

Do I have questions? Yeah, I do. Why, of the 2 functions available, would you choose to cease performing the only helpful one Hawaiian Breeze? Do I have comments? Yeah, I do. I think this fan is dumb–it chose the least helpful of its 2 functions as the only function it would perform.

I’ll be chatting with the HB people today. For now, at least, the score is tied. But it’s game on, HB. Game on.

To the company who produced my fan but seems to not exist (or at the very least doesn’t have a Web site)

Yesterday was awesome. For those of you not living in New York City, well, it sucks to be you because yesterday was really awesome. The sun was shining and it was warm for the first time in months. And I was excited.

Until I walked into my apartment. It was HOT! I’m not exactly flush at the moment so I’m stingy with my A.C. I fan it up.

Normally.

Due to a pretty craptastic set of circumstances, I was left with only one tiny and fairly ineffectual fan. My oscillating tower fan sat in the corner of my room–mocking me.

My tower fan died a few months back. Actually, I take that back. it’s in the equivalent of a vegetative state. The fan decided to stop fanning. BUT it still oscillates.

Really fan? Really? I mean, given the choice, I’d say you stuck with the least helpful function. You’re a fan. You have one job in life and that is to blow air. But thrown on the extra effort to swivel while you do it and you just give up. Pathetic.

I decided I would write to the “Hawaiian Breeze” company. File a complaint, maybe score a replacement or some coups. But after several failed Google and Amazon search attempts, I concluded that “Hawaiian Breeze” does not exist. There is no manufacturer. There is no one to whom I can whine about my fan, swiveling back and forth in the corner of my room in the onset of spring.

Guess it’s back to Amazon to see if I can find an oscillating tower fan with a little more drive than my poor old “Hawaiian Breeze.”

Baby fever!

Spring is finally starting to bloom in the city and is bringing all sorts of fun things with it. Allergies and that weird smell of B.O./fish/flowers on the street. But my absolute favorite thing that spring brings with it is babies! The babies are out in full force lately and there is nothing that makes me smile more than watching a baby.

One of the things I missed the most when I graduated college was watching the kids on the rope. The on-campus day care would take the kids on a walk through campus but in order to keep track of everyone the little ones held onto a jump rope with multiple handles. It’s pretty much the best thing ever in life to see. Albeit they were more fun in the winter when every single one was bundled like the little kid in A Christmas Story and they couldn’t grab the rope properly because their arms were propped up by too many layers. And then, when one tiny tot inevitably fell down, the layers, while serving as padding, prevented them from being able to get up and they rolled like a turtle on it’s back. And they usually pulled down a few of the kids around them.

You can see why I would miss something like this. But now, thanks to the warming weather, the babies are coming back out! I’ve decided that I would love to be a baby in the city. Aside from the fairly claustrophobic feeling that I’m pretty sure goes hand in hand with those bizarre cellophane stroller covers, city babies have a good deal. For one thing, think of all the interaction they get in a day. They get to play with their parents, then the nanny, then everyone on the subway or street or line at Macy’s who stops to make the obligatory silly baby face. You know the one I mean: cheesey grin, exaggerated “HI!” with that hand-puppet wave.

I’ve had 2 pretty fantastic baby sightings so far this spring. The first was in Macy’s. While in the dressing room I heard some little gurgles and the most cheerful mom ever saying things like “Well you have a lot to say, don’t you?! You’ve got quite a lot to say today! Yes you do!” When I emerged, purchases in hand, I was pleasantly surprised to have the baby in line behind me. My own mom was with me, so while she took the reigns in line, I turned and waved. My new little friend smiled back at me and then I started to chat with the mom. While we made baby-related small talk, the bundle of pink stuck her tiny tongue out. I couldn’t believe it! And she kept it up. So I did the only logical thing. I stuck my tongue right back at her and said “Oh! You aren’t the only one who can do that! See, I can do it too!” And she giggled and I spent the next 20 minutes obsessing about how in love I was with that particular baby.

My next pretty awesome sighting was with what the flirtiest infant I’ve ever seen. She was a subway baby. I smiled and waved at her from where I was standing. She smiled and then lost interest (we’d reached another stop and she had new people to amuse her). A young couple sat near her and her mom. She was strapped into one of those baby straight jacket things so she had fairly limited mobility. But she had quite the crush on the new guy next to her. She smiled and she kept reaching her hand out to his. But not the whole thing–just her little pointer finger (not in the creepy E.T. way though). And he waved and smiled but she kept trying to poke him. So he did the only logical thing. He tapped his finger to hers. It was like pounding, but with fingertips instead of the whole fist. And it was probably the most adorable thing ever.

So if you’re still feeling glum after the winter chill, go catch some baby fever. It will thaw out even the grinchiest of souls.