Making Noises

We did not spend the past week stripping wallpaper off our spare bedroom walls.  We did not swear that we would never buy a house again that had wallpaper.  We did not take as many as three layers of wallpaper off.  My husband did not fall off the ladder while he was taking the wallpaper off.

We did not hire a drywaller to come and fix the walls that had been damaged by stripping off the wallpaper.

I certainly didn’t wash and dry the cellphone with a load of clothes in the washer/dryer.  That would be an expensive mistake and I don’t make mistakes.

I didn’t send out the following email to some friends after seeing the unauthorized text messaging charge on our cell phone bill.

You guys probably know this already but we’re learning this the hard way – never ever give your cell phone number out to any place of business, on-line or otherwise. Just like your land line phone #, the cell phone number can be sold to telemarketers and “spam” companies.

Then you get text messaged a bunch of crap.Unlike your land line, though, where there’s no charge to receive these unwanted calls, your cell phone bill is charged $5.00 per text message (if you’re on Rogers) to receive these. Our latest bill had $25 worth of these charges on it. Customer service claims they can’t reverse the charges, which is total BS. Randy says he gets one a day of these messages on his cell phone.
To get rid of these text messages, you have to text them back and say “Stop”. Why is it up to the consumer to do this?

We had no idea about this. You are totally at these spammer’s mercy once they get a hold of your number.

I did not completely freak out about said charges.  We did not cancel our number and are not meeting with our account representative to get the charges reversed.  We are not setting something up to block all text messages.  I did not want to not even have a cell phone after this fiasco.

I  am not going to complain to the CRTC, Consumer and Corporate Affairs, and anyone else I can, if Rogers refuses to reverse these charges.

I did not do any research on this topic and I did not learn that cell phone companies in the States have been sued for charging for text messages.  I did not find out that some cell phone companies actually had to repay millions back to their users for such text message charges.

I did not find out that this is some sort of subscription based service that you supposedly sign up for (we didn’t).

I did not find out that there is an advocacy group in Canada that is fighting to stop such subscription based services from sending unauthorized text messages.  I did not find out that merely texting “stop” to these companies does not actually stop them from sending more messages.

I did not sigh when I found out the dryer was making a weird noise and wonder what next.  I am not frustrated because we have two vehicles that we need repair.  I am not annoyed because we have to change our holidays because of these expenses.

We did not receive any snow on the weekend and this picture was not taken June 6, 2009.

Areas to the southeast of us did not receive 30 cms of snow this past weekend.

There was not frost warnings issued two nights in a row this weekend.  We did not set a weather record for low night time temperatures for our area.

On a positive note, it was not me that had a short story published in our local writer’s organization’s monthly publication.

I do not wonder if we sometimes bring all this stress on ourselves somehow.

It was not me who was not completely appalled and disgusted at the behaviour of these people:

http://www.cbc.ca/canada/calgary/story/2009/05/06/edmonton-dogs-shot.html

It’s not me that thinks there should be a special place in hell for people like that.

It was not me who was not proud of my husband and his nephew.  They did not work hard on our front yard for the past two weekends.

It was not me who did not want to move to Rothesay, New Brunswick. I did not want to move there so my husband and I could attend the church where this man is a pastor  www.nakedpastor.com

It is not me that thought “cynicism at its’ finest” [and yet how true it can be!] when I read David’s (aka naked pastor) latest cartoon.

http://www.nakedpastor.com/archives/3220

It was not me who did not laugh out loud at the latest blog post of Julie’s weekend on www.dinnerwithjulie.com

It’s not me that nearly put her neck out taking a picture of a flag on a flag pole.

It’s not me who has sore arms, legs, and shoulders from taking a zillion pictures with my new camera.  I do not then spends hours at the computer not editing the photos.  I do not think that this may not be a good hobby for someone who has a chronic pain condition.

It’s not me who was sore for an entire day after not doing a little weeding in our flower beds.

It’s not me who figured out that I was not drinking too much caffeine.  It is not contributing to my muscle soreness.  It is not me that is cutting back and I am not addicted to coffee and do not have a headache from less caffeine.

It’s not me who loves the garden center more than almost any other place.  It’s not me who feels that a garden center is a foretaste of heaven.

It’s not me who does not stay in her PJ’s as long as possible, most days.  It’s not like I enjoy staying in my PJ’s or anything.  It wasn’t me who got “caught out” one day.  Our contractor did not show up early that day and did not phone first.  It was not me who had to race into my clothes to answer the door.

It wasn’t me who attended a marriage conference in Red Deer on Friday and Saturday night and laughed so hard on Friday night I almost peed my pants.  www.laughyourway.com

It wasn’t me who was so wired from laughing so hard on Friday night that it took me until 2 am to fall asleep.

It wasn’t me who felt like she’d been in church all weekend.

It wasn’t me who was alternately blessed, and challenged, by the speaker at the conference.

I do not have almost daily headaches from my braces.

I certainly don’t swallow my food partially whole because the braces on my teeth certainly don’t hurt to chew too much.  I don’t think this isn’t good for my digestion.

I will not be totally thrilled when these braces come off.

It’s not my neck that hurts so much when I do not do abdominal exercises that I do not think I need to find a different way to exercise my abdominals.  I certainly never think “yep, that exercise, it’ll kill you.”

It’s certainly not me that wonders at the rudeness and insensitivity of others when reading a friend’s blog entry that talked about what someone said to her.

It wasn’t me that worked very hard on my Chronic Pain Cookbook this past week.  I wasn’t totally thrilled when www.spud.ca granted permission for me to use some of their recipes in the cookbook and offered to help me promote it.   It’s not me that wonders whether I will be able to find a publisher for it or have to self-publish it.   It’s not me that was totally grateful to Patti, my occupational therapist friend, for providing me with energy conservation tips to include in the cookbook.

It’s that time again…

It wasn’t me who wanted to kick cancer’s ass when I heard this past week of two more people who’d been diagnosed with this bloody disease. The total of people we know in the last year that have been diagnosed, two of whom have passed away, is now at 6.

It wasn’t me who was angry at God on Sunday after hearing about the two cancer diagnoses.

On a lighter note, it wasn’t me who wanted to drop a book beside the sleeping gentlemen in the library to wake him up – that would be inconsiderate and rude and that’s just not me.

It wasn’t me who got marmalade in her hair when cooking this week. I am such a neat and tidy cook who never makes a mess in the kitchen so I have no idea how marmalade got in my hair.

It wasn’t me who teased my husband about how he keeps his used cutlery from eating his lunch in a drawer in his desk at work and how he needed a shopping cart to return it to the cafeteria to be washed.

It wasn’t me who, upon learning that my husband was grossed out by my mouth noises continued to deliberately make said noises in his presence, because that would just be mean and I am not a mean person.

And it’s not me who makes notes throughout the week so I remember all the things I did not do.

[A bit late  or early  depending on how you look at it]

It was not me who prayed that the drug dealers who deal drugs out of their cars on my street would deal to an undercover officer and be arrested.  Because that is not very Christian of me and something I would never do.

When our fitness instructor, whose class I’ve been attending for over 10 years, brought cupcakes for another participant for her birthday and had all of us that were in class that day sing “Happy Birthday” to her, it was not me who pouted and wondered what I had to do to get cupcakes from her on my birthday.

It was not me who became panicked and overwhelmed with the thought of having to set boundaries with people because I am such a calm individual who has no problems speaking up for herself.

It was not me that felt a little insulted being called a “nerd” by a friend when I mentioned I was taking a computer course with my husband.

And finally it is certainly not me who becomes miffed when my photographs entered into contests rarely win, place or even show.  It’s not me who becomes jealous of the individuals who do consistently win.  It wasn’t me that said to myself “I’m going to kick some photographic ass now that I have a new camera” because I am not competitive.

Not Me Monday.

This is making the rounds of the blogosphere (see  http://lynetteesau.blogspot.com/ and http://www.mycharmingkids.net) so I thought I’d give it a go:

Confession is good for the soul, right?

It was so not me that stomped around yesterday morning before church in a huff about something so inconsequential that I can’t remember it now, 24 hours later.

It was not me that slammed the cupboard doors in anger during said huff.

It was definitely not me that teased my husband endlessly last week about his “cheating” on the in-class exercise assignment in the HTML course we are both taking.

It was certainly not me that said “honesty doesn’t pay” when he got full marks on the aforementioned assignment and I got half marks and DID NOT CHEAT.

It was most assuredly not me who ducked behind the kitchen wall in order to avoid being seen by the door-to-door salesman I had seen wandering the neighbourhood earlier.

It was totally, totally not me (I’m such a calm individual) who completely freaked out when our truck, which was parked on a hill, on a sheet of ice, started sliding backwards on said sheet of ice.  It was also not me who gingerly got out of the truck to find my husband to tell him we were sliding backwards.

It is definitely not me who is nervous about going for walks around the city due to the fact that the roads, and some sidewalks, have now become like skating rinks.

It’s not me who wanders what our property taxes go towards.

It’s really not me that is choked when I find out exactly what they do go for:

• raises for alderman in a tight economy,
• a multi-million dollar fitness facility for city workers apparently they can’t work out at the city-run facilties or other private gyms like the rest of the masses,
• paying millions of dollars to buy a run down hotel in a seedy part of downtown to turn it into a parking lot

It’s not me that gets mad at a city whose policies for snow removal include:

• Waiting for a Chinook
• Only major routes, bus routes and those roads that have 20,000 vehicles a day or more travelling on them
• Requiring its’ citizens to:

• Keep the walks in front of their homes clear of ice and snow.  Said walks having to be cleared within 24 hours after the snowfall ends.  And it’s truly not me who gets mad at the able-bodied homeowners who don’t shovel said walks all winter long.

• After a huge dump of snow, followed by a huge warm up resulting in melting and possible flooding, requesting of  its citizens to clear the storm drains of ice, snow and debris.

And finally, it’s definitely not me who doesn’t have a driver’s licence and I am certainly not scared about learning to drive.

There now I feel better, do you?