My Beef with the Locksmith

This weekend, I foolishly locked myself out of a New York apartment. I was putting bags of trash in the hallway to be taken downstairs when the door slammed shut, automatically locking me out.

I was stranded with no shoes and no money. There was also no door man and no hidden spare key. I knocked on a neighbor’s door to get the maintenance man’s number. He informed me that he was not working today and that it would take him 45 minutes to get there, plus a whopping $80 for his services.

Frustrated, I contacted a locksmith who informed me that he could have someone there in 15-minutes for the same price. I went with the locksmith. Another man arrived 20-minutes later, out of breath from the 5-flights of stairs he was forced to climb.

Before starting, he went over pricing with me. According to this ass****, it would cost $80 to unlock the door. It would cost $35 for his services. Plus, it would cost an additional $125 to replace the lock that he was going to have to drill out. I stood there in shock. “What happened to the original $80 price I was quoted on the phone?” I asked. He explained that his co-worker did not understand the work that was needed, which is why he was explaining the different costs before he began. However, if I paid cash, he would “do me a favor” and charge $195 for the entire thing instead. “That’s a scam,” I shouted. “How can you quote one price and then charge three times as much?” The words sounded naïve as soon as I blurted them out. I had to remind myself that I wasn't in Kansas anymore.

The locksmith stood there with a blank stare, completely unwilling to budge. I refused to pay the exaggerated price and he left. I had to call the maintenance man again and beg for his services. Two hours and $80 later, I was back in the apartment. Defeated, I cancelled my dinner reservations that night and opted for Chinese takeout instead.

Who Wants Cake?

I recently threw a massive surprise party for my brother’s 25th birthday. Since my mom owns a bakery I ordered a gigantic cake. I said I wanted it to be “huge.” We decided on a German Chocolate masterpiece. This took two people to deliver. When my father dragged it into my apartment, I asked, “Do you think this is big enough?” He laughed in my face. We now have leftovers for Max’s next 10-birthdays.

My Big Mistake

I hate to admit it but I make mistakes sometimes too.

Last Friday I was traveling from Chicago to New York. I arrived at ORD a bit early and paid $75 to get on an earlier United Airlines flight. That’s right; United charged me a whopping $75 to make the change even though I’m a MileagePlus cardholder and travel with them all the time. When I got on the plane, a flight attendant informed me that there was no more room for my carry-on luggage and that I had to gate check the bag. I was annoyed but happy I had gotten on the earlier flight and handed it over.

That was my BIG mistake.

When I arrived at LGA, my bag wasn’t there when I walked off the plane. I was told I had to pick it up at baggage claim. I found it at carousal #1 (I think) and ran out the door to catch a cab.
But when I opened my carry-on at my final destination I was shocked to discover someone had stolen my jewelry pouch from inside by luggage. I had several pieces of valuable jewelry in a gold purse that I had slipped in my carry-on because I never expected to have had to check it.

Someone had opened my bag and swiped the pouch after it was gate checked (The picture above is a piece that survived the attack.)

As you can image, everything after that was complicated. The first person I called to file a complaint with was a COMPLETE idiot and in five minutes gave me four different types of
instructions. The second person I spoke to was much better and helpful. Basically I had to file a report. I also had to fill out a form and try and show “proof of purchase” for the missing items.

Let’s see, where am I going to find a receipt for a pair of pearl earrings my parents gave me for
college graduation six-years ago?

This is what I hope happens:

1. The dirty thief gets caught and I get all my stuff back
2. United reimburses me for my stolen jewelry, my plane ticket and the $75 it cost for an upgrade.

This is what will probably happen: Nothing. They’ll apologize for the inconvenience but say they’re not responsible for jewelry.

My advice to you is never ever check anything that is valuable. And don’t forget to take it out if you’re forced to.

Who Else Out There Hates Public Restrooms?

I can't stand them. I absolutely hate the fact that someone else can hear me while I'm going to the bathroom. So, over the years I've had to go to extremes to work around my complex.

If I'm at home and someone is visiting me, I always leave the water running while I'm going to the bathroom. I know, it's a complete waste of H2O, but I'm crazy. I also scout out private stalls wherever I am. College was the easiest for that. While working downtown in Chicago one summer, I would literally leave my office building, walk to a hotel next door, take an escalator up to the 3rd floor and use a private restroom there...I kid you not.

You'd think that at the age of 27-years-old I'd just get over it by now. No way. If I'm going to the bathroom and someone walks in, I automatically get stage freight and have to wait until they leave. It's a painful process. I'm also the girl in the stall next to you that starts to laugh when someone farts. It's a horrible quality of mine.

These flaws are why I'm absolutely ecstatic about my new job. There's a private bathroom! I can do my business and not have to worry one bit about it.

The catch...I have absolutely no problem going to the bathroom around members of my immediate family (including mom, dad and brother). I'll leave the door WIDE open, chit chatting away, while I'm using the lou. It's a sick problem. Everyone else is a nightmare.

If you're still willing to be my friend after reading this, thank you. I just had to flush it all out there.

How’s A Girl Supposed to Lose 10 Pounds Around Here?

My new job is not conducive to healthy eating in anyway. I’m the new Director of Communication for District 113, which incorporates Highland Park and Deerfield high schools. No more reporting you ask?? I’ll get to that in another blog entry. Today, I want to focus on the food.

Everywhere I turn, there are treats. I came into work this morning and my boss had bought me a jelly donut. Are you crazy? I thought to myself. I don’t eat jelly donuts. I look at a jelly donut and gain weight.

About an hour later, I received an office email that someone had baked banana bread and it was sitting in the kitchen.

Around 11 a.m. I decided to brave the kitchen because I had to fill up my water bottle. Not only was the banana bread staring me in the face but a group of employees had just made fresh guacamole. I laughed out loud; this must be a joke, right?

I politely declined and made a quick getaway back to my office. For lunch, a co-worker asked if I wanted to hit up Taco Bell’s drive-thru. Nothing about the drive thru at Taco Bell is on my diet plan. Thankfully, I had brought my lunch.

Around 3 p.m. I attended a letter of intent signing at one of the high schools; of course there was cake. A big cake. That was screaming eat me. I passed on that too.

By the time I got home, I wanted to throw a party. I can’t believe I survived without cheating in anyway. But to think that I have to do it again tomorrow is just depressing.

It Felt Good To Be Young Again

I always loved game day at the University of Michigan (I graduated in 2006). But last weekend, I had to love game day as a trader.

I was visiting Iowa and had no other choice but to cheer on the Buckeyes (they played Northwestern Saturday night in Iowa City). So, I slipped on my friend's t-shirt and headed to the game. In preparation, I had a massive omelet and a biscuit for lunch.

On the way, we drove past this party bus that had burst into flames on the side of the highway. I never found out if anyone got hurt.

Then, I played bags (I lost horribly) and went to the bathroom in an out-house twice, which was surprisingly painless. That was followed by an hour of dancing on top of a deck that overlooked a house party, with a DJ and all. I mingled a lot there.

We sat 3rd row in the student section, ate chicken barbecue pizza for dinner, went to a couple of bars---I did some more dancing---and crashed on a stranger's couch.

All in all, it was glorious to act young again.

My Fam is Killing Me

I'm back to juicing...at least for three days.

Some of you might remember when I tried the Master Cleanse last year. It was several days of maple syrup, lemon juice and cayenne pepper. I hated it and I don't think it worked.

This is easier. Yesterday, I picked up my juices at Peeled on Sheffield in Chicago. I was given six, 16-oz containers of juice that I was supposed to drink all in one day. The price tag was a whopping $70. Yes, you read it right, $70/day for my detox cleanse. Well, at least that's supposed to be how it works. But, as you can see by the picture above, I barely made it through a third of the juice by the end of my first day, which was last night. So, lucky for me, I think the first day of juices will probably last for the entire three-day cleanse. Which is a lot more cost effective.

Last night I slept at my parents house and had to endure their dinner decision. While I sipped on juice, my brother and dad noshed on a Giordano's Pizza. If you know me, you'll also know that's my favorite. It was brutal. But I survived.

I'm on day two right now, let's see if I can make it to three!