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Stupid-Expert Level

Posted on April 8, 2014 by ThePeachy1 in Moronic Mondays

And then the stupid rained down upon mankind….   and they danced in it, and smiled, and stomped upon common sense until it was missing from the Earth.

Enjoy this chat transcript with a nation wide cell phone company.

Please wait while we connect you to a representative.
You have been connected to an idiot.
wood:  Hi, Barb! How may I assist you today?
Barb:  I am logged in to my account , but I can’t find my balance.
wood:  I can certainly understand your concern and I will be more than happy to assist you today 🙂
Barb: _____63
wood:  For me to discuss the account, please verify the last 4 digits of the social security number, date of birth and the email address…
Barb:  dec _____ is my birthday
wood:  I am sorry?
Barb:  email is _________.com
Barb:  _____ is my last
wood:  Thank you very much for using the chat option for your question and concerns, feel free to come back in the chat room and we will be more then happy to assist you.
wood:  Thank you for verifying your account, please give me one moment to access and review…
wood:  Thank you for verifying your account, please give me one moment to access and review…
Barb: I am logged onto the website in my account but no where does it say what my balance is.
wood:  I do understand !
wood:  YOur account balance is $1 you will need to make a payment of $24 before 04/18
Barb:  OH k
wood:  .
wood:  Yes!
Barb:   that makes sense. 
wood:  I , do understand.
wood:  There is a ).00 balance on the other line of ___3 and it must be paid by 04/18 as well .
wood:  Ok!
Barb:  where do I go to see that part of my account
wood:  Is there anything else I can help you with today?
wood:  You will need to be signed in as a primary account.
Barb:  yep same question as first one, how do i find the part of my account that has minutes and $
wood:  For security reasons we can not change this over WEB .
Barb:  oh no… so they put ______93 as the primary
wood:  No, the online account is set up as secondary on both.
wood:  You can contact Customer Service by calling 1-8WESUCK or *611 on your mobile phone and they can help you with that.
Barb:  wait a minute? I am logged in, for MY SECURITY I already gave you my bday my social and my email. I doubt seriously you telling me where the hell that part of my account is is more dangerious
wood:  The accounts need to be set up as a primary account to view.
Barb:  what?
Barb:  what is this mess
wood:  I am happy to help you but would appreciate it if you wouldn’t use offensive language during the chat.
Barb:  I bought 2 of them together ______3 and ______3
Barb:  hell is a location
wood:  It is also offensive language.
Barb:  I was born before ww2 buttercup, I gave you all my private info now you can tell me where to find MY info
wood:  Further offensive language will result in the termination of this session.
Barb:  oh my
Barb:  ok
wood:  The online accounts are set up as secondary.
wood:  This means that only limited information is available,
Barb:  you need to go ahead and get a supervisor and ask them to please come tell me how to get to the part of my website that shows my balance, I deserve that. I pay you.
wood:  The account needs to be set up as primary to view extensive information.
Barb:  my account balance is not ektensive
Barb:  that’s where i pay
wood:  For privacy reasons, we are not able to set the account primary through the WEB Chat channel.
Barb:  you mad eme give you my social
Barb:  my email
wood:  You may Contact Customer Care or visit the local store.
Barb:  and my birthday on this chat
Barb:  how is adding money to an account a security risk? that is insane
wood:  Yes that is correct as I have went over the account with you.
Barb:  and not answered how I find my balance and to add money to it
Barb:  since I’ve done on line before I know I can
wood:  Yes, in order to view the balance and make payments on the account the account must be set up primary.
Barb:  if this chat isn’t secure enough for you “assistance” to tell me where my account is. then why is safe enough for my social and dob
wood:  My apologies for any incovience this may cause, however this is for the security of the account holder,.
Barb:  I’m the accoutn holder and you MADE me give you my social and date of birth on this chat? what part of insane does this “rule” come from
wood:  Yes, we must verify the account to go over any information on the account.
Barb:  but you can’t tell me what button to click on your website to see my account because of security itssues?
Barb:  oh my, no wonder our country is headed to the toilet, no common sense and full of shit.. which is not a location but an actual offensive word which is what it is intended to be
Barb:  good bye

and then I banged my head in a car door until it all made sense..  I think I saw Barb in the parking lot doing the same…

 

 

xo

xo

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cell phones, chat, felony stupidity, security 1 Comment Read More

I will love you forever.. Happy Birthday Dustin.

Posted on October 21, 2013 by ThePeachy1 in The Peachy Tree
My Oldest Son Dusty when he was 8

Happy Birthday my little Boy.

Today you are 22.  I can’t touch you, hug you, or draw you a card.  I can’t hear your voice or subject you to listening to my off key loud version of Happy Birthday.  I haven’t seen you in just short of a year again.  Last time I saw you, you were thinner, smaller, and still very angry with the 21 years of pain where I couldn’t make it better.

 

We all love you and miss you so much.  Your little brother cries for you sometimes,  I hug him and try to make a joke, we talk about how you could be surfing or skateboarding in California.  Once he smiles, and moves on,  I store away the pain he felt in missing you, in my heart right next to where I keep mine.   My daily life now, is really nothing more than existence.   for 25 years I was a MOM.  That’s such a big word isn’t it darling.  MOM.  I made sure to do ALL mom things, and most definitely ALL of them the right way.  I didn’t draw a breath that wasn’t used to power the MOM.   My mistakes, my temper, my impatience, my ridiculous level of how things had to be.   Nothing…   They  were all NOTHING.

 

This world and this you and me thing.  It’s just so impossible.   Why ?   Honey,  Why the hell can we not get along.  Me to bend and you to calm and just love.  Even if from a distance.  Only when it’s safe for you.  Only on topics that are safe for us.  Your rules. Just like your sister.    I don’t push in on her life.  I stay back, and am here when she needs, and I still make her mad and hurt her feelings even though I try to very hard to monitor my every interaction.     I would be so grateful if I could at least have that with you too.     I don’t agree with everything you do.  I’m not supposed to.  I’m your mom.   But I promise to curb my constant and chornic advice if you can promise to curb your temper.  Can we meet somewhere it doesn’t even have to be the middle.

 

I drag myself through day to day,  at this time of year I could probably go out in public and people would appreciate my zombie like movements and blank emotions.  I have to tuck it all away.  Smile, nod, be funny, listen, care.   Damn it baby,  WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU ????     Can’t you get to a library and email me?     Steal a damn phone and text me?    Get arrested and have them call me?  something…  it’s your BIRTHDAY.    I just want to tell you Happy Birthday…   I want to hear you. Even if you scream at me.

What am I doing?  This is your birthday.  I will use one of the adorable old pictures of pictures from one of the other posts of you.  Your adorable beautiful, gorgeous pictures that are to this day in every room of this run down, horribly empty, run down shell of a version of my dream home.  Your silly birthdays with my always silly Halloween cakes I made for you each year.   Remember the year I forgot the candles?  ME?  OMG. yeah and I had to use those big fat emergency candles  hahaha,  that year you had a Dracula cake, and I stuck a huge fat ugly white candle on his face as a nose.  You loved it.   But you know what.  I had tried to place the emergency candle on the bottom of the cake instead of in the middle of his face but it looks like huge white vampire penis,  so I put it in his face.  Makes sense right?   I mean.  Obviously  I was the perfect Mom.  Not.

I’m not sure if I ever told you, but you, your PawPaw and Your Great Great Grandmother Kate were all born within 6 days of each other..    I am going to write down my memories of her, because well, everyone that knew her has passed away.  So if anyone is going to know a damn thing about her I better get it written down.  She played piano in the silent movie theaters, and had incredibly long silver hair she wore in a bun every day.  She had a picture of  the stereotypical white blonde haired blue eyed Jesus at a door in a garden with flowers and “light” that hung behind her couch.  She was Walt Whitmans cousin and I have some letters and school books of theirs in the curio cabinet.  Do you know who Walt is?  Have you read anything by him?   Are you ok? Are you safe?  Are you eating?  Are you warm?   I could really give 2 shits less about Walt Whitman or a blue eyed Jesus.  Honey.  I’m so sorry you didn’t get the mom you needed,  please be ok,  please be happy.   If hating me fuels you to do better and be happy than please for the love of god hate with me all your strength.

I have no clue what I am doing here.  Like everything else I write to you facebook, texts, or posts here.   You wont ever see it.   The fact that I have left this place so empty and unused for nearly 2 years pretty much assures me no one will see it and honestly I think that makes all this much easier to write.   SHIT.   If you did see this.  How shitty is it that I turned your birthday into an “all about me” type thing?  right?   I’m telling you dude, you and your sister really drew the short stick when it came to sound  parenting.   She’s been using that degree in psychology for a couple years now,   I wish you and her could get together and laugh and talk about your screwed up childhoods were with a whacked out mom.  See.  I would rather have you two be close, or at least amicable,  because when it comes down to brass tacks, family is all you have.    I hope that one day she can move past, and you can move forward and you 2 can at least like each other.  Also, I know you are very literal,  so disregard the “brass tacks” comment,   I do NOT want ANY tacks involved with any communications between you and your sister if there ever is any.

 

Shit. See.  here I sit in the dark, purposely removed from everything that is the world today.  Crying,  ugly cry.  My nose weighs 10 tons. My head is pounding, obviously there’s some pressure issues going on.

Snot dripping down my face, too lazy to even get kleenex because I have to get this out of my head out of my heart.   Snot on my shirt. snot on my arm. I grabbed a roll of toilet paper and my bed is now covered with little white fluffy balls containing snot.

I will have to shower now, and put on clean clothes, maybe when my eyes stop stinging.    The toilet paper balls of snot are disgusting.   Remember how you always got spontaneous nose bleeds?   GROSS.  The Dr’s were like, ” Oh that’s nothing”…   dude,  would it not be awesome if we would have been cool enough to say something like, ” yes every time he uses his psychic abilities his nose bleeds”  ahahah… Lord knows son, you were messing with the minds of the highly educated Doctors as a hobby for a very long time before I caught on.   Looking back.  Kudos my boy.  I appreciate your stellar sense of humor in an act of  protest.

Everyone says, Alex is just like your dad, and Sam is just like me…   Sam’s pretty awesome, with all those degrees and steady job and good credit, and not falling in and out of love every time the wind blows.   When you look at it like that, she’s not at all like me is she?   I mean.   You.  you pick up and take off where the wind blows you, you see what you want to see and when you want to see,  you do things that make you happy on a primal level,  good,  bag or illegal.  You self medicate, and are the focus of every party, people instantly love your charm and enjoy your company and you either sore with the eagles or your crash to earth with endless internal pain…   Hell honey,  it sure sounds a lot like you are just like me.  Not the me that everyone knows now, or the me that everyone thinks I am.  that was the me was before I got all serious and became a MOM.  yeah.  So maybe when I was trying so hard all these years to fix all your mistakes and all the things wrong or broken with you, I was really just trying to go back and fix all the broken shit about me.    Either way, we both ended up broken..    but it’s only YOUR birthday, so please find a way to let me know you are ok..

It’s good that I am alone.  the audible guttural sobbing noises are making the dogs bark at the doors, I should let them in and clean myself up and go back to pretending I’m ok.  You’re ok.  It’s ok.

 

Happy Birthday to you, Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday dear Dustin…   Happy Birthday to you.. I will never stop loving you.

 

 

xoxo

Mom Out.

 

Previous Post in regards to “The Dude”

March 2012 –  Is this living it only feels like waiting.             or            May 2011- Covering the scars of a failed Mom.                   and

May 2010-  The 3 part extremely person and brutally honest  series about a beautiful little boy.  

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add, adhd, being peachy, bipolar, birthday, dude, dustin, dusty, failure, happy birthday, missing child, mom, motherhood, PAIN, parenting, peachy, scitzophrenic, tears, the dude, thepeachy1 7 Comments Read More

Nice try kid.

Posted on February 26, 2013 by ThePeachy1 in Funny Stuff Friday, The Peachy Tree
I never saw a wildthing sorry for itself

There I was, snuggled into my bed. Pitch dark in the wonderfully silent house.  Surrounded by the 8 pillows and my own especially soft comforter.  Sleeping.  That’s how I roll.

Tap Tap –  “mom”

OMG OMG I”m up what’s wrong OMG !!!    I fling myself out of the bed and assume the stance of a warrior about to enter the coliseum and my blood is  coursing threw my veins  at speeds comparative to a fire hose at a 5 alarm fire.

My darling little Prince, the youngest of 3, and the only child not legally old enough to buy booze,  the only child under my roof.  The perfect little sweethearted, genius,  handsome Prince.  Was standing there,  with a little itty bitty piece of paper no bigger than the fortune out of a cookie.

ThePrince-   Mom can you sign your name on this?

Me:  Realizing I didn’t need to wrestler an ax murderer out of my house, one eye drooped back closed and I relaxed a bit.

The Prince:  Mom,   hey Mom,  hey can you sign this please.

Me:  holds out hand and  I realize he has provided me with a tiny ripped on all 4 sides piece of paper the size of a fortune cookie.
Sirens go off,   WHOOOT WHOOT Parenting red alert,  WHOOT  WHOOT.  All hands on deck.

I bail out of bed, the one drooped closed eye has now turned into the  single raised eyebrow side eye of a mother smelling something not quite right.

We get in the living room.

Me: why do you need me to sign that tiny piece of blank paper?

The Prince:   Oh we are going to practicing signing our names today and I wanted to see what yours looks like.

WHOOOT WHOOT Parenting red alert,  WHOOT  WHOOT.  The mothering LIE detector is glaring with sirens and flashing red lights.

This is  where I look at my darling baby boy that I adore, and say,   ” really?  really?   I mean seriously dude,  please tell me exactly how stupid you think I am?”

His single functioning brain cell was working well enough to  NOT to answer that.   He proceeded with textbook child maneuver #17.  Deer in the headlights.  It’s hard to believe he wasn’t on the red carpet for his performance,  I think he managed to tear up a bit  as he looked at me as if I had just ran him threw with a blunt sword.  The OSCAR for best performance of a preteen attempting to look innocent goes to………..

Me:  Ok, here’s the deal,  I KNOW, that there is more too this,  look at me with your mouth hanging open all you want.   You need to cough up whateverthehell  you need me to sign that you don’t want me to see.

Him:  trying to work a tear out of at least one eye ball,  mouth agape as if I just testified against him in court.

Me:  Let me make this easy for you.   HAND ME THE DAMN THING YOU DON’T WANT ME TO KNOW ABOUT,  or we will stand here until you miss the bus,  and then I will ride YOUR bike in MY pajamas  right behind you as you walk to school, down the highway and into your office  and DEMAND to know what kind of crap you are in trouble for.

Him:  uhm  Mom.

Me:  You screwed up, first by whatever is in the note you don’t want me to see,  second and even more importantly you TRIED TO LIE AND TRICK ME!  Come clean NOW.

If you don’t know anything about the Prince let me fill you in on why this is actually worthy of a post.    Here is where he won the overall for his school and went to regionals in the science fair 2 years ago.

Safety is NO Yolk.

The Prince winning the over all for his school and the physics regional science fair award 2011 9 years old.

and here he is at the Regional Science fair the next year, after placing in the district.

 

Let it slide Science Fair Project

The Prince at the Regional Science and Physics in 2012, after placing in the District.

 

OH yeah and he has his own youtube account where he does experiments and other cool stuff including him using his GIANT telescope in the middle of the night to watch activity in the ski.   He’s never been in trouble at school, he plays baseball, and goes to MMA,  He did a crazy insect collection and even a model project on the solar system WHICH WERE NOT EVEN SCHOOL ASSIGNMENTS.  yeah you heard me.  FOR THE FUN OF IT.  I know right? Probably switched at birth or something.   Just yesterday afternoon he called me to let me know one of the little guys on the bus a Kindergartner didn’t have anyone waiting for him at the bus stop ( which they do every day) ,  so he called me to let me know he was walking little man home.  Sweet, right?  Yeah I know… Cuteness factor,  way way off the scale.

and finally here is the actual note he coughed up just moments before I went all Kung foo cray cray on the child.

 

torn parent note

seems legit?

Oh yeah, I can totally see the teacher getting this and saying to herself.  ” Seems legit dude”.   NOT.

Really?   So I signed on a NON ripped area of the note, included my phone number and email.   Then I told him that I hoped he realized what this meant,  and that I was going to rain down on him like a parenting hail storm when he got home from school.   Then I hugged him and told him I loved him and to have a great day.   He looked a little worried.  I don’t know why.

Even though I applaud the absolute MAMMOTH balls it takes to try to pull this off,  I am astounded in the lack of effort put forth in this scam.  I mean really?  This is like elementary level kid lie.  He’s in middle school,  he needs to step up his game.   So while he is at school where I am sure he is attempting his most epic performance with the teacher as to why the note is ripped like this.  I will be pumping up my creative mom skills.    Dusting off my psychological parenting warfare skills that I really haven’t needed  for several years since The Prince is so..  well Princely.    I even called his big sister, the one with all the degrees in psychology because she said after being raised by me it was pretty much as easy as tying a shoe.

His dad the Droid was visibly shaken by the entire experience, clearly he has no memory of the older 2 children being younger.   This could actually go down in my husbands life as the “WORST DAY EVER!”   like Armageddon.   I mean he didn’t actually get out of bed to be a part of this entire thing,  but when it was all over he was getting ready for JURY DUTY ( hahaha not me LOL),   He looked as if the HULK had kicked him in his loins.

There are several issues here. He didn’t do what he was supposed to do in class.   It’s SCIENCE for crying out loud, seriously dude?  Over school break we actually  helped the Stunt kid ( our nephew)   with HIS science project,  HERE in our HOUSE and I kept asking the Prince to do one, for the fun of it, just in case.  He was adamant that he didn’t need to.   Then he attempted to fool me with this pathetic half assed  premeditated scheme.   Then he lied, about the signature, and lied by exclusion by failing to come forth without being cornered.

Well that’s it.  That’s the post, and while my husband is probably walking around  with his soul ripped out.  I am happily planning the extended “lesson” for my darling little Prince,  which I am sure will include some baseboard cleaning,  most hated foods, and being completely an utterly unplugged from the universe for the first time in his life.    Because around here,  when you make such an epic mistake,  this place sort of turns into Hell Week  of Seal Training.

I have to go now,  I need to pick up some liver and cauliflower for his dinner.

 

XO

PEACH OUT

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being peachy, kids, lies, moms are trained seals, note from school., notes, science project, seal training, the Peachy1, the prince 8 Comments Read More
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