Rome : Paris :: London : ?

This cracked me up. (Detroit Metro)

Addendum to eBay/PayPal post.

Who got a full refund? THIS GIRL GOT HER FULL REFUND.

In the words of my high school principal:

"If you mess with the truck, son, you're gonna get dumped."

Make a dentist cry.

Because last night I made these ...

(Clark family sticky bun recipe,YUM)

...Today breakfast is AWESOME.

(The carmelized pancake syrup on the bottom is enough to make any dentist weep, I can tell. But I'll eat another five to confirm this.)

Why eBay is terrible

So, a while back, I decided to play around on eBay. I bought two things, both of which were imitations from ... drumroll, please ...China.

I suppose that was predictable, but I read the item information very closely, and was convinced that if the items were fakes, I had grounds for reimbursement based on the eBay buyer protection information.

After several exchanges with one seller, and a claim filed with eBay, I got a full refund. "eBay has AWESOME customer service," I thought. "Maybe I'll buy stuff more often."

The second item was never marked as paid, so I had to go to PayPal, whose service is crap, as far as I can tell. In order to get a refund I have to have a retailer sign an affidavit which details how we know the item is an imitation. That seems like a long shot, but we shall see.

Anyway, back to eBay. Today I received an email telling warning me that my account is "close to exceeding the limits of one or more of our policies" and that "if a pattern continues, your purchases may no longer be eligible for eBay Buyer Protection, or we may limit or suspend your account."

EXCUSE ME? WHAT? I GET SENT FAKE ITEMS FROM SELLERS WHO PRESENTED THEM AS   LEGITIMATE ITEMS AND YOU'RE THREATENING ME?!

So, being me, I call eBay customer service to let them know just what I think of their threatening email. I am talking to someone who seems fairly nice, if very much dedicated to his script (which consists of countering my calm assessment of the inappropriateness of their email by repeating various portions of the email that has so enraged me) ... AND HE HANGS UP ON ME.

SO NOW I AM VERY ANGRY. I CALL BACK, AND ONCE MORE EXPLAIN THAT I HAVE FILED ONE, YES, ONE CLAIM, WHICH WAS SETTLED TO MY SATISFACTION (ME BEING THE INJURED PARTY IN ALL THIS BECAUSE THE CRAP WAS FAKE) WITH A FULL REFUND, SO WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS EMAIL?!

AND THEN AFTER 20 MINUTES I WAS TRANSFERRED AGAIN. AND WAS DISCONNECTED AGAIN. AND NOW WE COME TO THE MORAL OF THIS STORY, WHICH IS:

NEVER, EVER, USE EBAY.

I think I'll just keep calling them. At this point it's almost getting entertaining, and I've memorized all the menu shortcuts anyway.

Whoomp! There it is.

Tonight I made the Clark family rolls!

In other news, it turns out that the key to not setting off my fire alarms is leaving the kitchen window open. I must have a really slow learning curve.

Whatever, my success made me sing this song victoriously while I danced around the kitchen.

As luck would have it, vigorous dancing combined with enthusiastic eating is perhaps not what food guidelines mean when they say "diet and exercise."

In which I feel awkward.

So I bought granola bars. Because they're delicious. I did not, however, look closely at the box until I noticed that all of my granola bars were individually wrapped in pictures of Nick Jonas.

This is relevant, because I eat my granola bars in front of other people. You know, the idea behind portable snacks and all. 

Things got real when I happened to read the box more closely, and noticed that the box instructs you to go online and unlock e-cards from this prepubescent, sultry eyed ... Rockstar seems to be a stretch, but you get the idea. Anyway, when you read the fine print, it says you must be 18 or something. And then I reread the top of the box more closely and saw that it, in fact, says: "Send YOUR KIDS a custom message from Nick Jonas."

I hope that I never have the kind of relationship with my children in which I would be goaded into sending them e-cards from some future E! program about morally degraded former child stars, but I find it nearly as horrifying that somewhere in the world there are people that do (and I suspect that they aren't all trying to be ironic).

Who came up with THIS marketing scheme?

All the clocks were high.

I love this clock, because it's different, and yet the difference is subtle.

(And unnerving for anyone who looks at it the first time.)

I also like it because something about it reminds me of Salvador Dali and his melting clocks and irreverent feelings about time ...

I also love it because it reminds me of this poem by Stephen Dunn, "Zero Hour."

Yes, the hands run backward.