Me vs. The Giant Corporation

I have two kids and in the three years that we’ve had On-Demand movies with our Verizon fiber optic cable, it’s made me incredibly lazy in that I have no need to drive to Blockbuster and rent movies anymore. I just flip to the On-Demand menu and find whatever it is we want to watch. This is great when it’s just adults but not so great when it’s my kids who want to see a movie.

Let me preface this story by saying we have every parental control available set on our TV. I’m a firm believer that kids are exposed to too much too soon in this world and I do everything I can to slow that down. They’re children. They’re just not equipped to process and understand so much of what is freely available on TV and every time ANY child is exposed to violence, sex or other adult-oriented things, I honestly believe it chips away at their innocence and shortens their childhood a bit.

So anyway…my gripe with Verizon’s On-Demand service is that when you go to the On-Demand menu, they immediately start showing trailers for movies that are otherwise blocked by the parental controls I’ve set. The trailers themselves ought to be rated R based on their content.

So here I am, scrolling to get to the kid and family movies and they’re showing trailers for shit like “Last House on the Left” If you’re not familiar with that film (the original OR the remake) it’s a delightful story about rape, torture and revenge. Of course, that’s not the only completely inappropriate trailer that’s come on while my kids are sitting beside me hoping to find “Horton Hears  Who” or “Wall-E” or whatever. It’s just the one that finally made me Lose. My. Shit.

My odyssey into the world of corporate buck-passing started with a phone call to Verizon customer support. I demanded to know how to change my settings so we won’t have to be a captive audience and watch said previews while searching for children’s entertainment. I’m told, “Sorry!  There is no way to do that”.

Not satisfied, I comb Verizon’s web sites searching for some kind of venue in which I can file a complaint. Nothing but a general form that limits you to 700 characters—gah.  I leave a message asking someone to contact me. They do. I tell them my issue. They say they’ll have someone call me.

They do. I tell the person who calls me my issue. They can’t help me. They transfer me to someone else.

They can’t help me. They transfer me to someone else.

That guy says he’s NEVER heard anyone complain about the trailers on On-Demand before. I tell him I find that hard to believe. He tells me there is no venue for a complaint like mine and to basically GIVE UP.

Infuriated, I ask to speak to someone else. I get thrown back into the customer service phone hell that I originally called and I tell my whole story AGAIN and of course,  (everyone say it with me!) THEY CAN’T HELP ME.

I ask to speak to a supervisor.

I’m told by the supervisor that my best bet is to send a letter via snail mail. I tell her that’s not good enough because my letter will end up in a stack of other letters, I will never hear from anyone and that will be it.

She is sympathetic and says she will have HER supervisor call me on Monday. (Shockingly, nobody ever calls me)

That same day, I get on Twitter and start raising a stink about being given the run around by Verizon, about how their customer service is terrible, about how I have a legitimate complaint that involves children and families. I include every official Verizon username on Twitter in my 140 character diatribes. I figure if Dooce can use Twitter to make Maytag jump through hoops of fire and replace her lemon of a dryer, maybe little old me can get someone from Verizon to at least HEAR ME.

Nothing happens. Nobody from Verizon replies.

A week later, someone from Verizon FINALLY replies to one of my tweets.

I ask them point blank how to block the trailers on On-Demand so that they reflect the settings on our parental controls. I expect the same answer I’ve been given over and over  (sorry, that can’t be done!) but I figure it’s worth putting it out there and getting it on SOMEONE’S radar screen so maybe someday they will change that.

Well, lo and behold, he sends me back a link and says “this will tell you how to do it”.

I follow the link and it takes me to a page on the Verizon site and there it says that “And recently some have been e-mailing us here to say that they object to some of the things that are out there” (that’s not what it said when I went there last month—they’ve majorly edited the page and completely changed the wording) and how they are super duper concerned about shielding children from inappropriate content yada yada—and here is how you change it…instructions follow. I try it and it works. But I also note that the option to block promotional material absolutely DID NOT EXIST previously in that menu

Also? It says THIS, which I can assure you is wholly inaccurate (also known as BULLSHIT). They showed whatever they damn well pleased without a second thought to who might be watching for the entire three years that we’ve had their service. THREE YEARS:

First, let me note that Verizon has long had a policy that we will not air questionable content in our on-demand trailers.  We edit out mature content, and try to keep our on-demand trailers family-friendly.  In a few cases where that policy was not followed, we made changes as soon as we were aware of the problem.

So anyway, I go back and look at the date on the post on the Verizon site and it’s exactly ONE WEEK after I spent 2 hours on the phone with a minimum of five Verizon employees being told repeatedly that there was NO WAY to do this and that NOBODY else had ever complained about this issue. ONE WEEK after being told someone would call me on Monday (and never did) and ONE WEEK after I twittered myself silly addressing all available Verizon usernames.

Call me arrogant, call me delusional, call me Donna Quixote if you want but I firmly believe that *I* made Verizon change their system. If there was no way to do it before and NOBODY had ever complained about it before, according to THEM, then it was me. *I* brought this issue to their attention and *I* made them fix it and honestly, I’m way proud of myself for not giving up on this and I’m even prouder to have proven that one little voice CAN make a difference.

But really, I can’t take full credit. Some of it goes to the Verizon rep who told me to GIVE UP…  So THANK YOU, O’ STUPID VERIZON GUY. I owe at least a fraction of my awesomeness to you.

I took this screenshot myself…

The BEST word verification EVER.

Attitude is Everything!!!

When I woke up this morning with my head throbbing, husband grousing around and my children carrying on about one thing or another…I wanted to roll over and go back to sleep. I feel like that a lot lately, as noted in a previous post. I think my exact thought this morning was that every day lately my life feels like it’s imploding “to collapse inward as if from external pressure.” I don’t know if it’s me, like my perception is skewed and nothing is really as bad as it seems, or if it’s exactly as it seems and I’ve just reached my saturation point.

I actually said this morning, in a moment of extreme fed-upness, and in my husband’s general direction,  “I can’t stand you people anymore. One day I’m going to run away and never come back.” Nice. That mother-of-the-year award I was coveting is definitely a pipe dream now.

It’s not that every second of every day is awful. It’s not. In between the impatience and outbursts and complaints, there is love and laughter and fun. But if I had to sum it all up…it’s still pretty sucktastic. I’ve totally been phoning it in with the kids being back in school. PTA membership papers sit on my desk ignored. Girl Scout event emails calling for parent volunteers make me want to run and hide. It’s all I can do to get up and get the kids off to school. Everything that’s not mission critical just keeps getting backburnered. How long can you do that, exactly?

I just…don’t feel like I have both feet on the ground. I feel tethered by a very, very thin thread and I’m up there just blowing around in the wind…waiting for something to pull me back down. I’m not depressed, per se. But it’s something.

Every day is the saaaaaame. My husband is always in a bad mood and I’m overwhelmed. I never get enough done. I’m always ten steps behind everyone else and playing catch up…just trying to get through the day so I can lather, rinse and repeat the next day.

Again, I have to ask…is it just me? Am I seeing things through a warped lens? Could I shake this off if I really wanted to?

Whilst lamenting to my BFF this morning about my husband, who has been PMSing for about a year straight, she brought up something I haven’t thought about in a very long time—the law of attraction. Basically, you attract what you put out there. She was talking about how it can be difficult to get yourself out of a funk because you’re feeling so negative and thus, attracting more of it to you.

We were actually talking about my husband but in that moment, I started thinking of myself and wondering if I was the architect of my own misery. In my head I envisioned one of those photocopied flyers that an old boss had tacked up in her wood-paneled office. It said “Attitude is everything!” and proceeded to tell you all the ways in which a bad attitude will defeat you.

Shit. My attitude SUCKS, I thought. But then I countered that with “How can you have a good attitude when you’re surrounded by people who are perpetually dissatisfied? SOMEONE is always unhappy and we’re never all happy at the same time. We’re so…out of sync. And I don’t know how to fix that, even with the world’s bestest attitude.

Would You Like Some Cheese With My Whine?

I hate whining. I really do.

I don’t, however, hate it enough to NOT do it.

Really, the fact is…I just don’t want to hear anyone else whine. Not you. Not my kids. None of ya. But since this is my blog, I’m going to be a wee bit of a hypocrite and whine just a little. Think of it as venting (but with more patheticness…).

You  see, I’ve had a this atrocious headache for days, possibly weeks. After enough coffee, Aleve and Canadian aspirin (the good kind), I can sometimes make it go away but every morning, I wake up and it’s back again like a bad penny. Fricken headache…ruiner of all things good and fun.

I also woke up this morning with not only a headache but a wet desk chair. I’m all “Did someone pee on my chair???” but I got denials all the way around, which is good because if anyone actually DID pee in my chair, like my husband, for example, that would be messed up.

When nobody would cop to peeing in my chair or spilling anything on it, I, for some reason, looked upward and there it was…the wet spot. On the ceiling. Which means???? Our roof has a leak.

I always knew this day would come (we were told six years ago that our roof had about 4-5 years to live) but did I ever do anything about it? Did I ever even attempt to act like a responsible adult and be pro-active? Hell no. I just waited for this day and then got to spend a good hour trying to find a roofer that would call me back on a Saturday—a RAINY Saturday. And now? We will have to pull thousands of dollars out of our asses (because that’s where irresponsible adults keep their money) and put a new roof on this fricken shoebox—which leads me to my next gripe…

I told my husband this morning that if he doesn’t figure out a way to give me a damn bedroom, I’m divorcing him—we’ve been sleeping in our office since shortly after my son was born. His crib was in our room and he was such a light sleeper that co-sleeping never worked and when we would sleep in our bed with him in his crib, he would hear every noise and wake up all night long.

We eventually moved into our office, which IS a room, but it’s in the middle of everything—no door, no privacy, no quiet in the morning. It sucks. This morning, I tried to shoo my kids back to their rooms because my head was pounding so they went in what is now my son’s room and started rifling through my dresser drawers. The top drawer is just full of my junk, not clothes, and they dug all through it and came out with all kinds of stuff and it just pissed me off. I have NO space of my own at all and I’m completely over it.

I want to move but since our house lost FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS of value this past year, according to our illustrious county appraiser, we couldn’t sell it for what we owe on it and even if we could, we’d walk away with NOTHING. I haven’t even told my husband about this yet because I know he’ll freak.

Also? We’re getting new neighbors. The house next door has been a rental for the past two years and we’ve had a steady stream of shitty, douchey neighbors. I have NO reason to believe the new ones will be any different.

I don’t like this house, I don’t like that there are no kids in our neighborhood, I don’t like that we have to put a new roof on a house I don’t like, I don’t like that we’re getting new douchebag neighbors, I don’t like that our tree died, I don’t like that there is SO much to be done but it’s too damn hot to do anything outside and I don’t like having these headaches because I have to work thrice as hard to get anything done. I can’t even blog everyday for Nablopomo because I can’t think straight when my head is pounding. Oh, who am I kidding… I also have major writers block. I’ve had it for ages. I get inspiration when I don’t have time and then I forget it when I do have time. Or when I do have time, I’d rather sleep. Thisssssucks.

But please, for the love of all things good and decent, don’t tell me I need to exercise. I know I need to exercise but it’s impossible when you have headache that gets worse when you stand up. Or bend down. Or exert yourself in any way. Tension headaches and exercise are not friends. They despise each other. Also, don’t tell me to think positively. Or take more vitamins. Please.

And dear husband, if you’re reading this, please forgive me for saying this in such a public way…but your constant bad mood and Man PMS is really wearing on me. I TRY to understand but I’m over it. Life is hard. Life isn’t always fun. Life is challenging. I get all that. I’m not exactly thrilled either, as evidenced by my ranty whinefest, BUT I don’t make everyone else suffer for my unhappiness. Figure out what you want from life and go after it. Figure out what will make you happy and pursue it. I may be unhappy with certain things right now but I’m still an optimist. I still have hope that life will get better. I wish you would, too. I love you—now chin up!

I can feel the tension run from my head to my neck,  into my shoulders and down my back so I’m going to my chiropractor on Tuesday and then I’m going to beg my massage therapist to see me right after. If that doesn’t work, there’s always the gun method—it’s damn near impossible to have a headache when you don’t have a head. Heh.

The Internet Never Forgets

If you know me at all, you know I teeter on the fence between wanting to share and wanting to hide—under a big BIG black cloak of privacy. I do want to blog. I want to voice my opinions. I want to spill my guts. I want to pour my heart out. I just don’t want anyone I know in real life to read it (blogging friends and a few select others notwithstanding).

This also extends to my kids. I honestly have no idea what I’m going to do when they get older and don’t have such limited computer access but the idea of them combing through my blog and reading certain things bothers me a lot. I’m all for honesty but really, there are just some things you’d rather not share with your kids until they’re older. Or maybe never. That said, I sometimes imagine that after a certain point, I will have to cull this blog back to a bloody nub by removing a lot of content. Oddly, that thought has never bothered me much.

But people always say stuff will stay on the internet forever, right?  And maybe that’s true but it wasn’t until I found about The Wayback Machine (no, not like Mr. Peabody’s machine) that I really pondered the gravity of that statement. So I checked it out and holy crap on a cracker—there was my whole site archived by month and year. It was freaky. And creepy. I didn’t like it.

Have you ever visited The Wayback Machine? Chances are your site is archived there, too. If you’re cool with that and you want every word you’ve ever blogged to be accessible for generations to come, then you’re good. No action necessary. Carry on.

But if you’re not so sure, the ability to make it all go away DOES exist. The instructions are right here. Good luck!

Falling Behind 1.0

Nine out of ten doctors recommend that if you fall behind while doing NaBloPoMo, post funny pictures…

I got a ton of these things via email so I don’t know who to credit for them… To whoever made these, thank you for saving my sorry ass on only the 5th day of NaBloPoMo.

Happy Birthday

My 24 hours of special treatment from my family is almost over…another birthday nearly behind me.

If I were a pessimist, I’d say “Ohhhh, another birthday, another year closer to death” but I make a point not to think of stuff like that. I cannot, however, lie and say I haven’t spent a few moments lamenting the fact that I’m officially middle-age.

The hardest part of all to face is the fact that while I AM young and vibrant in the grand scheme of things, my youth, per se, is gone forever. Equally painful? I didn’t appreciate it when I had it.

George Bernard Shaw once said “Youth is wasted on the young.”  I daresay he was on to something…

Happy 29th birthday to me…again ;)

(Edited to add:  I fear my joke about being 29 again has flopped. I’m not 29, folks. I just wish I was.)