Wednesday, January 12, 2005

Knock Knock. Who's There? Your Dog. Your Dog Who? Your Dog Who's Running Away.

My dog has this horrible habit of scratching at the door. I don't know where he gets it from. Actually, I know he gets it from me, because I can't stand people being in another room or in the house when I'm outside, especially if there's a doorknob I'm not familiar with standing in my way.

But anyway, the point of the story is, my dog was scratching yet again at the door, when I was in the middle of eating a mini pizza in front of the Young and the Restless. Or maybe it was the Bold and the Beautiful. Either way, I'm sure that something half interesting was happening and that was why I was choosing to ignore my supposedly favorite dog.

The good news is that I have a cat who's smarter than me. Some would say that's not difficult, which to those people I would respond two minutes after their comment "hey! that's not nice."

You see, I was assuming that the scratching was coming from the back door, which is located against the back yard where the dog can be fenced in. It's also where he poops, but he'd be embarrassed at the thought of me sharing that with strangers. My cat, being smarter than me quickly realized the scratching was in fact coming from the front door, a.k.a. where no animal has ever been before, and was probably very pissed that the dog was getting to go there, when he in fact had been meowing in front of that door for years waiting for someone to open it and was always denied the priviledge.

After a couple of the cat's meowing being answered by scratching, the disturbing thought of the dog being at the front of the house, a.k.a. the big unfenced world slowly entered my mind.

I jumped up, opened the door, and in strolled my dog. As I stood there in shock by the potential gravity of the dog having the opportunity to run for his life, my very smart dog saw my mini pizza and gobbled it up in one bite. He then jumped up on the couch and went to sleep.

I was too stunned to even be pissed about the pizza. After all, my dog for the first time in his five year life had the opportunity to run away and instead, threw a fit to get back on the couch where he spends 90 percent of his life. It made me feel good to know that the idea of running away crossed my dog's mind and then the realization that this would actually involve movement made him go "screw that" and knock on the door.

But enough about my pets. I have a mystery that I can't seem to resolve. It seems that it doesn't matter how close I come to paying off my credit cards, each month, the balance climbs up to a level that's impossible to pay off again. And I don't understand this. I really don't buy very much stuff. I mean, I have been spending more than my alloted grocery budget and charging it on the credit card to get Upromise dollars for my future children and I have gone shopping for clothes that I will now not be able to wear in a month or two, but neither of these activities should add up to the balance I have. Also, I've learned that you can't cancel a credit card. It has taken six months and six calls for me to cancel a credit card with Bank One that I really didn't want anymore, because it gave me Southwest rewards and I never fly on Southwest anymore, so I could never get a free trip. I cancelled it the first time and I was proud of myself, because I did it only a month before I was going to be charged the annual fee.

Haha! I thought to myself. I'm so good!

Well, the following month, a statement came and there it was: a charge of $39. So I called again, and the card was cancelled again and I was told that the annual fee was taken off. But the following month, I received a new invoice, this one for more than $55, which encompassed the $39 annual fee, a $15 late payment fee and interest. Another round of listening to Bank One's wonderful selection of muzak and I was assured that it wouldn't happen again. Until yesterday, where I received a bill for $72. And I laughed and laughed and laughed. Until I called them. And then I wasn't laughing anymore.

It just seems funny that I get four to five credit card applications a day and I'm sure that if I applied for all of them, I'd probably have five new pieces of plastic. But try to leave them and oh boy.... Bank One kind of reminds me of this guy I went out with named Greg a long time ago. I don't think Greg had many girlfriends before me. He was obsessed with me and I could make him cry at the bat of an eye. I'm not kidding. I made him cry once a week just to see if I could. Eventually after three months, I got tired of Greg and his being the world's biggest pussy and I broke up with him. The break up didn't go well. I witnessed the seven stages of grief over half an hour. Shock, anger, denial, tears, the whole shebang. When I was finally rid of him, I was so relieved. I felt like Greg had turned me into a massive bitch because he let me push him around so much. Happy to be only a half-bitch again, I went back to my normal life. Only the next day Greg called me again and my call display didn't work, so I didn't ignore his call. And when I realized it was him, I had an "oh shit" moment. Except that just like Bank One, Greg acted like we'd never had the conversation. Like surely I hadn't meant to say everything I'd said and we would just continue on. At least, Greg, unlike Bank One didn't say that I owed him $72.

Which actually, I'm starting to think I still haven't gotten good at breaking up with people, because I switched to Cingular two months ago and T-Mobile didn't take to my unfaithfulness very well. They sent me a bill for $200 for emotional distress. I tried to tell them they have Catherine Zeta-Jones now and she's a much better catch than me, but they're insisting.

This is why it's better for everyone that I'm off the market permanently. I can't do very much damage this way.

Love,

Catwoman.

1 comment:

Koree said...

I'll be sending you bill for $72 for mentioning poop and "The Young and Restless" in the same post. That is so against blog etiquette. You should know by now that only sex and poop go together. PEE and Y&R are a match... geez... expect a bill.