Jeers to TV Guide

The TV Guide has a Cheers/Jeers section wherein they feel free to let a show, actor, or organization know when they think something awesome or seriously lame has happened. They'll even open it up to readers to give their own opinions here and there.

I should not have opened up this week's TV Guide. To be honest I've been debating about whether or not to even renew my subscription as I rarely even check it to see what's on that night anymore. I do enjoy the articles they write, but to be honest I could always just check their website if I truly wanted to know who was doing what in my favorite shows.

But read this week's edition I did, and I grumbled at one of their main articles. TOP EARNERS could have been meant to let us oooh and aaaah over the money certain of our "favorite" stars are earning, though the article itself talked about how the actors of new shows will be getting less for a starting salary than before.

That's right, even the most popular shows out there are feeling the crunch of a harsh economy. These poor actors (even veteran actors) will go from a starting paycheck of $150,000 to under $100,000 ... PER EPISODE! Just to start out with! Oh, doesn't that just break your heart? Incredibly enough, one actor refused to take a job because the network/studio refused to go over $200,000.

In a time when a family of six (yes, I'm talking about ours) is struggling make it through life with a yearly income of just under half of that, and thousands of other families out there are struggling to even find some sort of income, it makes me more than mildly ill to sit back and learn what some of these stars are making (regardless of whether or not I absolutely love them). When I think of what I could do for my family with the money many of them earn from just one episode, I get angry.

The article felt like a slap in the face. There's no other way to describe it. So Jeers TV Guide, for not remembering the circumstances of many of your readers out here.

The Pros and Cons of Swamp Coolers

I feel the need to complain at length today. Upon my triumphant return from grocery shopping it took less than a second for me to realize it was just as muggy inside my house as it was outside.

For those of us who live in desert areas, swamp coolers are a pretty good alternative to central cooling when looking at it from a financial point of view. However, on days like today the financial benefits aren't exactly outweighed by the problems swamp coolers cause.

For those of you unfamiliar with the workings of a swamp cooler let me quickly explain. The square unit sits upon the the roof where a very large duct leads into the house. When the cooler is being prompted to turn on, water first filters through four very large pads intended to help with the cooling process. When the pads are sufficiently wet the main blower turns on and sends the cool, moist air through the duct and into the house.

This might lead one to naturally assume summertime in the house is a bit on the damp side. One would be correct. I've had to rescue more than one child from their room because they closed the swollen doors and can't get them open. Then there's the food problem. If it's not in the fridge, or a can, or properly sealed, it's gross. Not only is it stale, but a bit gummy too. Not something you want in a cracker or chip. Seriously.

Still, these things can be dealt with, and due to the savings when it comes to money we don't tend to stress too much. I'm afraid the point in which having a swamp cooler becomes unbearable is when the humidity outside rises to such a point we can feel it amplified inside. Then we all feel the ugh!

Like today. I was pretty certain if it became any more humid in the house we'd see rain clouds forming in the hallway. All the floors feel damp, as does any bit of wood. With the increasing humidity outside comes another un-fun fact: no cooling. The air blowing in simply comes out feeling hot rather than cool.

The only way to help alleviate this added humidity is to turn off the water and just let the fan blow. Less humid, but yet again, more hot. Needless to say I'm grumpy. It's hot, it's humid, I'm getting a headache and all the ceiling fans in the world are not making me feel better.

Hey, at least I can admit it. And I can look forward to the day when hubby and I are so rich we can afford the central cooling without worrying about what it's going to cost us to stay below 76 degrees. Good times, people. Good times.

A Good Sales Tactic, or an Unintentional Cruel Joke?

This really MUST be my week to rant and rave! The other day my little one and I were in the car running a few errands when I noticed something tucked into my windshield wiper. My heart started to beat a little faster when I saw a $100 bill! I could hardly believe it. Who had put it there?

I began to chant "Please don't blow away" as I watched it flutter while driving down the street. This money could go so far in helping pay a few things off, or buy some clothes for the kids at the Deseret Industries, or - or - whatever!!!!

A few seconds of wild imaginings later and I began to notice something a bit off about this "gift." If an actual bill had been folded in half, and then in half again, it would not be as wide as the one happily perched on my windshield.

CRUD! That was my immediate thought. Sure enough, the "100 dollar bill" opened up just once. The only thing it would give me was the question, "Isn't this the best sales tactic?" followed by a pitch. Grrr.

I didn't think it was great at all, especially considering how bad off so many of us are financially. It felt more like a mean joke. I don't even know what it advertized as the moment realization hit I tossed the thing.

So there's my answer. If you want me to read your notice, don't taunt me with something before taking it away.

Stepping off my soapbox now.

Warning: If You're Anything Like Me, Avoid "Dead Sea Cosmetics"

Before I go into what will stand out as one of the most frustrating experiences of my life, I need to explain a little something about myself. I am beyond non-confrontational. If there's a way to come to a peaceful end I will do everything in my power to make it happen. If you're mean or pushy with me, I will yell and scream at you in my head, but smile at you and apologize for my supposed injustices. Now, on with the story.

We have several birthdays coming up during the next six weeks, two being my dad and my daddy-in-law. Knowing there were some fun things on sale over at Valley Fair Mall, I headed on over with my littlest in the hopes of finding some awesome presents. And I did, hoorah! By the time I was done my littlest was ssssoooooo hhhuuuunnnngryyyy!!!!! So we headed down towards the food court in the hopes of finding an ice cream cone or other such treat to satisfy her growly tummy.

I was stopped just south of the customer service desk by a good-looking young man offering a sample of something. I'm not a huge fan of free samples as they tend to make me obligated to stay and hear what they have to say and odds are buy something. Therefore I declined with every intention of moving on, when the man said, "May I see your hands?"

Well that request stopped me in my tracks (my first mistake). I showed him my hands and he cooed over my nails, taking one of my hands and out of thin air (or a pocket in his apron) produced a buffer. He began to run this across my nail while talking to me about being from Israel and was I married and oh, I was? Too bad. Happily married? Darn. (Uh, yeah, 'cause I'm sure the sight of a chunky redhead with bad skin and a baby in tow was just too much for him to resist.) Of course, in order to see the effect of his buffing just right I needed to follow him over to his kiosk so we could see better. Was my nail buffed to a marvelous shine? Of course! Would I like to buy one of their kits so I might do this at home? Oh no - I really don't have the money, I say as I start backing away. At this point I realize he's still got a hold of my hand.

"Wait, wait," he says in his thick Israeli accent. At this point he begins to rub his fingers lightly over my face, analyzing it. "You have a beautiful skin, but you have the acne and a little bit of rosacea." So my skin is beautifully full of problems, I thought. When he asked his partner-in-crime, uh, I mean co-worker to put something on it I tried backing away again, as my skin is super-sensitive and I don't put anything on it I don't trust.

Telling him this he says, "Give me your arm." I didn't want to but he frankly still had a hold of my hand and simply turned it over so the underside of my arm faced up. At this point his cohort began rubbing some sort of gel on my skin. As the younger guy continued the master of manipulation held the little jar of his magical face gel really quite high up in the air - something he did more than once. I don't get why.

As he's telling me the virtues of this amazing cosmetic the other guy is now rubbing the gel into my skin. Can you say creepy? 'Cause that's what I was thinking. They cleaned the gel off my arm, applied a lotion, and told me to look at the difference between my two arms. Was there a difference? Oh yeah, but at this point I knew that if the tiny bottle was supposed to last me an entire year we were talking huge money.

Sure enough, that one bottle was two hundred dollars. Oh - you read that right! When you included the lotion it upped the price to three hundred dollars. Uh, no way mister!

And thus the haggling began. I tried to tell him over and over I couldn't afford it, my husband would never agree to it, I didn't like spending that sort of money on something I could live without especially when we were talking about birthdays and Christmas to buy for!

I should have just walked away - I know this now - but it's not in my nature to rudely walk away from someone. I was trying my hardest to give them a way out of the situation. "May I give you my card?" he asked. "Sure," I said, relieved we could leave it at that. I realized something was off when he pulled out a receipt book and seemed to write in it. What sort of "card" was this supposed to be?

"Wait," he says, as though inspiration had struck his brain. "What if I..." and the haggling went on. He offered deal after deal, conversing with his partner in English when it was convenient ("But we'll lose this much money if you do that"). I was analyzing their sale tactics even as they were being practiced on me.

It got to the point my littlest was pulling on my arm, begging to be taken for a treat. The haggling was going on and on until they finally came to a deal I could say yes to and not feel bad about until I'd taken at least five steps away from the kiosk. $102 later I held in my hand a bag of things I didn't want.

If only it could have stopped there. I stewed over this the rest of the afternoon. By the time my hubby got home I was pretty frustrated with how I'd been handled. The two of us went back to the mall to try and fix the situation. ONLY THEN did we see there were no returns. Oh no, this hadn't been pointed out to me. Sure it was on their kiosk - over the cash register in rather small letters surrounded by other things. Sure he'd written it on my receipt - but he never told me about it beforehand. So we couldn't return the stuff.

Do you know what the guy said (the co-worker) when we complained? "No one forced her to buy anything." I wanted to yell at the man! "I've never felt so pressured to buy something in my life!" I said, my emotions starting to get the better of me.

My husband and I headed over to the customer service desk to lodge a complaint. Of course it was there I lost it and burst into tears. The woman called over mall security where I signed a witness report, going into all sorts of detail about what happened. As I wrote everything out I began to see even more of their intimidation and manipulation tactics, and I just got angry. By the time we were driving home I was almost hyperventilating when I thought of the way the man kept a hold of me, towered over me, and touched me without permission. MAN it took a while to deal with all those emotions that night.

Today I'm feeling better about things. Just a few minutes ago I received a message from one of the mall managers, who is working to get a refund for me. I'd like to give the products back, as I am honestly not looking to cheat the company out of anything.

The security guy told me something I want to share with anyone on the off-chance you find yourselves accosted by someone like this: if they touch you without your permission, back away and in a loud voice say, "NO!" If they come after you again you have the right to push them away and immediately go to find customer service or security.

My biggest advice (especially as I've learned they're like this in many malls), do everything you can to avoid Dead Sea Cosmetics!

I...Hate...Ham!!!

Saturday night was our church's Christmas Party. I'd signed up to warm up a ham, but when only one other person had signed up as well I ended up with three hams. No problem, right? After all, it's not like I'm cooking them. I'm just warming them up.

The bagged hams were promptly delivered two nights before, and I immediately put them into the refrigerator. Too bad I didn't think to check and see if they were frozen. Too bad I didn't find out until late in the morning they still had the bone in them. Too bad I didn't think I might need a bigger crock pot and giant pan in order to make them all fit and cooked in time. Grrr.

Because my husband is a chef I've been trained to be very persnickety about what temp meat is cooked to. I didn't think a balmy 60 degrees would cut it, even if the meat had been cooked. The time went by irritatingly fast, and the middle of the ham simply wasn't warming up. In fact, an hour before the party they still had a nice layer of ice through the middle three inches.

Now if you like iced ham, I'm certain it would have been quite a treat. Somehow I didn't think this was what our church members had in mind.

What does one do when three giant hams won't defrost in the middle? Thaaaaat's right, I turned to my trusty friend, my dependable kitchen appliance, the microwave. I defrosted. I cooked. I cut out bones. I cried. I wiped ham guts off my fingers. I cooked a little more. Three times I went through the process until finally, finally I was able to say the hams warmed up to a balmy 98 degrees.

Hot for summer temperatures, not so great in a ham. I had succeeded, however, in ridding the hams of their icy inner layers, and it was very simply time to go. I piled all three into a pan, wrapped them tightly in foil, chucked 'em in the car and drove off to the church building where I promptly shoved the pan into my poor husband's arms, found a room where no one might find me, and sobbed for a good twenty minutes.

Now, before you all start to wonder why my darling husband wasn't there to help me out of this seriously disturbing situation, the moment I saw him was the same moment he arrived at the party after having worked all day long. Poor guy. After ensuring the kitchen had everything under control he walked the building trying to find me. By then I'd calmed down enough to enjoy the party, and blamed my flushed face on skin allergies.

But never, never, nevernevernevernevernever again will I sign up to do ham! In fact, it might be a good six months before I can even look at, smell, or think about it again.

I Need to Empty My Spleen! (a.k.a Laurie's On One Again)

And no, it has nothing to do with our new (gulp) president.

I haven't even been up a whole 46 minutes and my day's heading down the toilet. Of course I'll have to take the kids to school in a few minutes, but I needed to at least make a start in getting out the baddies!

I was having bad dreams up until the time my alarm rudely told me it was time to get up. Bad dreams seem to be spreading throughout the house these last few days. So even before I delved into the land of the conscious I was being affronted with annoying things. Knowing it would be snowy this morning I informed my beloved children they would need to get a move on when I woke them up. Too bad M didn't listen to me.

Of course the child is only a year or three away from teenagerdom, so I realize she's going to be more difficult to wake up, not to mention the time she spends in picking out an outfit. In any case, she took so long getting up and going the boys were done with breakfast before she made it to the kitchen. This translates into: no time to read scriptures.

So I donned boots and coat and headed outside to scrape out our car and warm it up. In the middle of it all, my boys come out sans coat, hat or gloves, asking to play in the snow. They were promptly informed to head right back in the house to find said objects (I didn't yell loud...the neighbors might hear). They came out a few minutes later to inform me they could find coat, but not gloves or hats (which were brand new as of two days ago!).

We spent a few more minutes cleaning up their room just enough to discover they really were all lost. (Insert heavy sigh here.) Sometimes being mom isn't fun.

One last rant - I hate it when companies skimp on their products so as not to raise prices. There are certain things you simply can't skimp on...like diapers. My youngest has had leaky diapers the last week ever since I bought the "newest" version of diapers. I went with Luv's in the first place because they were cheap without leaking. Now I might have to do back to Pampers. Either that or plan on a daily bath and laundry load.

Grrr.

I Refuse to Acknowledge the Media Today

That's right. No radio, no television (aside from kids PBS shows and movies), no newspapers, no nuthin.

My stomach has been tied in knots every time I think about this year's election. I'm insanely grateful the day has finally come and can't wait until it's all over tomorrow!

Our voting precinct happens to be at my children's school, so after dropping them all off I went right in to vote. Got it done early so I won't have to stress about it the rest of the day. The school itself is participating in the voting process. They're giving all the kids a chance to vote for the person they want for president and such. My oldest was excited to have the chance to vote. She kept asking me who I was voting for. I told her, and made certain to let her know why as well. The kids know their votes won't count in the actual election, but I really believe it has lit a fire in some of them.

Politics is never pretty, though. I can't stand the debates and the ads and the fighting that erupts because of differing beliefs. It brings out the best and worst in people (and I'm not just talking about those in the running). There's so much injustice and backbiting, which literally makes my stomach turn.

This is why I've decided to keep myself free from all other influences. I will not check in throughout the day to see whether my guys are winning. I refuse to give the media or other invested businesses/groups/parties/etc a chance to press their opinions on me, or make me feel as though what I believe is old fashioned or too prudish (I recently read Lehi's dream - and the laughing/mocking people in the great and spacious building flashed in my mind this morning). I will not be ashamed for holding my standard high.

In any case, if I don't pick up the phone until after you leave a message, don't be offended. I'm just avoiding political phone calls too :)

Religion, Agendas, and Television

It's becoming a disturbing trend, portraying the extremes of religion on television. One would think, as I do, that religion is under subtle and pervasive attack.

A few years ago I was forwarded an e-mail regarding a particular television show, where characters depicting Mormons were shown to be positively crazy, and the religion itself was sadly misrepresented. I didn't see it myself, but got a fairly good idea of what occurred in the show from a description. It saddened me to read what the writers thought would be okay to say.

In the last few weeks I've seen shows based around Jews, Libertarians, Catholics, Mormons (again), Episcopalians, Baptists, etc. None of them were shown the respect they deserve. I watched two of my favorite shows just last night, both of which had stories revolving around organized religions. Again these churches were being portrayed as intolerant and filled with a bunch of nuts. If someone believed in God, he/she is shown as misguided, illogical, and just plain silly in the head. If they objected to something they were shown as intolerant, small-minded, and fanatical.

I understand extremes make for good television, but a lot of people out there take what they see as an accurate representation.

Tangent: I distinctly recall the day I read the words, "Gossip Girl has finally lived up to it's hype." In other words, no matter what their ads claimed no one was really watching it. Unfortunately there are now teens and pre-teens who honestly believe the youthful elite of society sleep around with no consequences. Whether or not we choose to acknowledge it, too many of our teens are growing up believing what they're seeing.

Though I do hold responsible the writers who portray religions as organizations filled with a bunch of loons, and recognize there are some out there with agendas they want to press on us, I also know the real force behind it all.

Surely it is Satan's agenda to make religion seem silly, illogical, and unreasonable. Who wouldn't love to have the world think belief in God is the opposite of sanity? Even the lines spoken by a believer comes off sounding trite, childish, and rediculous.

Though we can't do much about what's being placed on our television screens, we can take responsibility in our homes to explain to our children what's real and what's not. My kids aren't old enough to watch any of the shows I've spoken of, but we're coming closer to the day when I can't send them all to their rooms to read at 7:00. They will be watching these shows sooner than I want.

I'm coming to recognize the need to study up on those religions I may not understand so that I can correct those things misrepresented on television.

School Fundraisers

A.k.a. The bane of my existance!!!

I loathe school fundraisers. Let me rephrase that. I loathe feeling like I need to go panhandling to family, friends, and close neighbors begging for them to purchase things I don't even believe in. Especially when I have to figure out which kid I'll let harrass which potential sucker...uh, buyer.

My greatest foe comes in the form of a book. Do you know the one I'm talking about? It's so colorful with many fantastic looking coupons, ready and willing for you to take a chance that you really will save more than the $20 it costs you to buy the book in the first place.

The only problem is, the coupons are typically for things you don't want in the first place! I don't care if I can get a family of four into Disneyland for practically no money at all. I have a family of six! I've never wanted a Ranch Burger and probably still won't want one even after the discount. Thank you very much. Not to mention most of the places are either so far north or so far south of where I live, by the time I drive there and back I've spent all the money I saved.

Sigh.

We have a new principal at the kids' school this year. He's been great, all the teacher's say so. But he seems really gung-ho about fundraisers. No sooner did we send back the empty book packets than a new fundraiser has started. Granted this one I can sink my teeth into. It's still difficult to try and tell the kids I can only buy one thing of cookie dough from each of them. Of course, it's cookie dough, and I love it. But it's a bit hard on the pocketbook, especially as I normally refuse to let the kids bug anyone else to buy some.

Why normally, do you ask? I've decided to let the kids loose this year, and give those of you who are smart enough to read this blog fair warning. So don't be surprised if you get a phone call asking if you'd like to buy some White Chocolate Macadamia Nut, or Pumpkin Chocolate Chip. Feel free to say no. I'm just tired of being the bad guy in all this.

Of course, if you'd like to jump ahead and volunteer to buy some, I won't decline ;)

Don't Even GET Me Started (A Shamelessly Opinionated Rant)

It happened again last night. Hubs and I turned on the television to rewatch some repeats when BOOM - something else was on. Something that irritates the hud out of me. Something that gets my dander up and clears the room the moment I start venting.

Actors were asking me for money.

Me. Who had to tell my kids no treats at the store this week because we're trying to cinch up the money belt until the next paycheck.

Me. Who watches as my husband works his tail off at two jobs, while trying to attend all church meetings besides, just so we can get by.

Me. Who endures the hated dial-up connection and no caller-id, no cable or cell phones, because we don't feel comfortable shelling out the money that could go for more important things...like keeping our kids from running around naked.

Stars are asking ME to donate.

Is the cause worthy? Indubitably. Might I contribute in some other format? Maybe. Do I hope they raise millions of dollars even while I sit here griping? Yes, yes, and triple yes! Does it drive me nuts when people who make $100,000 per episode, or a few million per movie, who live in their five-million dollar mansions, ask for money they could simply donate themselves?

Uh - yeah!

I'm not talking about all actors. I understand most make several thousand per episode, and by the time they've paid agents, lawyers, and whoever, they don't bring a whole lot home.

In a recent T.V. Guide, the salaries of some of our most "popular" actors were given. I have to be honest, it felt like a slap in the face. My husband brings home less than 50k a year, and we manage to house, clothe and feed a family of six, and even put a little away in savings for those summer months when the second job doesn't exist.

I don't begrudge those who make a lot of money. I really don't. There are so many who contribute hugely to those in need, in essence, "using their powers for good." Do I think a six million dollar house is necessary for one or two people? No. I think that money could be used in so many better ways.

I feel our value system on who is paid what happens to be fantastically skewed. I think it's great that men and women who are great at sports can make money at it, but why are they paid so much more than the coaches who got them there? I love that actors are able to read and portray some moving or comical stories. I just hate that the drama and English teachers who helped them learn to read and act rarely make a decent amount of money.

Have you all left the blog by now?

I think money is a good thing. I know we'd be homeless, naked, and much skinnier without it. It would just be nice of those who get on television to ask us for all our spare change could be a little less hypocritical, stop demanding huge paychecks that take away from everyone else, and live within modest means.

(Big breath, Laurie.)

Then I might take them seriously.