darning his socks in the night when there's nobody there

Eleanor Rigby by The Beatles

Randomish entry here folks. Lots on my mind. You've been warned!

(In my mind, that "You've been warned!" sounded extremely ominous. I think it lost something in the translation between brain and screen, though.)

I'd like to take this opportunity to remind folks that on the last day of August, there's a gimmick going on that everyone should participate in. (if you feel like it. but you totally should feel like it.)
I'm planning on doing all 12 hours myself, but I'm still looking for a CD with 12 tracks to generate titles/ideas...

The nearest McDonald's to our house has been demolished. Um, purposely. Apparently they're going to rebuild it all high-tech-like. If the pictures of a futuristic looking McDonald's on the fence outside the demolition site are to be believed, that is. I hope it is. FutureDonald's! Woot! Flying cars & (killer) robots & Sausage McMuffins with Egg 24 hours a day!!

From the "I'm not made of money!" file - 7-Eleven recently raised the prices on refills of Big Gulps. From 79 cents [eighty-five with tax] to 89 cents [ninety-six with tax]. Yeah, yeah, everything's going up, but still. That's almost a dollar! For refilling my cup? And the weird thing is that the price for a new cup didn't increase. So basically all they did was lower the incentive to reuse the ones I already own. I'm not happy with this plan at all.

Also from the "not made of money" file, but additionally filed in "you have got to be kidding" - we received a letter today stating that a Park Restoration Project will be (or already has been) done on the park behind our house. (I'm voting "will be", because, um, no. There's been no work done on it that we can see.)
Anyway. This project apparently will/did cost $66,000, and since we are the owners of said park, we need to pay this. ....Yeah. A phone call or two is in order here. Because I seriously doubt that Stephanie and I truly own that park (although how cool would it be if we did?) so, um. Guess I'll be dealing with contractors and maybe folks from the City of Las Vegas tomorrow in order to get this straightened out. Either that, or they can try to collect the money owed them from us...ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

I've viewed 75 movies this year, there are 140 days left. Not quite a movie a day left, but I need to step up a bit.

Rementioning the Blogathon.

I need a haircut again. It's only been 2.5 months since I last had one, but I guess that's long enough. How often do normal people cut their hair?

How can it be 103 degrees outside (at almost 7pm) and yet my feet are freezing?

So there's a managerial position at work coming open - which would mean more money, although more stress - and I'm going to apply for it. My confidence in getting the position waxes and wanes on almost a daily basis. Gotta love the rat race.

And...wrapping this up, I'll just do a request of youtube videos that have made you smile or laugh or whatever recently.

Entertaining story, told not so entertainingly

Yesterday I deposited most of my paycheck into Stephanie's checking account - since that's the one that we use for paying bills and mortgages and whatnot. I've done this many many times over the years, and most of the tellers at the bank know me, and know Steph. Or, rather, know Steph's name, since when they type in her account number, her name shows up on the computer.

So, yeseterday, I put the money into the account, and the teller & I did the usual, "This is for your wife, right?"
"Yep."
"And you're not on her account?"
"Nope."
rigamarole.

Today, I got an email from Steph who told me that when she checked the account online, she discovered that the money I deposited was, in fact, NOT in there.
It was also not in my account (she checked in case I had suffered mass brain damage and deposited into my account on accident).

I still had the receipt in the van, proving that I had made the deposit. I got that, and saw that the final 4 digits on the reciept did not match the final 4 digits of Steph's account.

Oh. Crap.

So, I got into the van, drove the 2.5 miles to the bank in a *very* short amount of time, and spoke with the same teller as yesterday. Turns out that she mistyped the account number. (But she saw Steph's name when she brought up the other account!? Neither of us could figure that one out. Because when she brought up the 'wrong' one this time, it did not have Steph's name there. Weird.)

Anyway, she took the money out of the wrong one, and put it into my wife's, and apologized a gabillion times for the error. Yay for getting money back where it belongs and not losing our house!

And that's the end of the story.

Money fixes everything.

God, I love money.