Somebody went to Customer Sales School

This past weekend Ben and I went home to my parents, and on Saturday I went shopping with my mom to pick up a few things for our new place.  (Pictures are coming soon…I really don’t want to show you much until it’s all set up….but since that may take a loooong time, I might just show you the mid-set up look) 

Anyway, one of the things I needed to get, was a vase, for some sticks I’d bought.  So my mom and I are in Pier 1, and the sales lady asks if we need any help.  I mention what I’m there to get, and she listens, offers her advice and then goes away.  A little while later, I had found one I liked (on sale! for 30 bucks!) and was carrying it around the store.  The sales lady comes back with a bigger, double-the-price vase, and says that this might be an option for me. 

She then proceeds to tell me that I should really consider it, because even though it’s just a vase, it’s like buying a piece of furniture for my house.  THEN, she says this: It’s an investment really.  It’s worth paying the extra money for something like this.

 

REALLY? REALLY SALES LADY? Because last time I checked, purchasing a ceramic object that could break at a moments notice wasn’t really something I’d put in the “investment” category. 

RRSPS.  Now that’s an investment. My education? Yeah, I’d call that an investment too.  A house? Sure, depending on the market that too would be considered an investment.  You know what? I’ll even give you something like a couch, that will last you a good long while.  But a $65.00 vase? Mmm, now you’re just pushing it.  I’ll give you points for trying though.

I came home with a vase that cost me thirty dollars.  You know, I just didn’t want all that pressure of my investment to be sitting out in the open in my living room, waiting for some guest to walk by it all willy-nilly like and knock it over.  Maybe I’ll take the extra $35 dollars I saved and invest in some ice cream, or a movie or something long-term like that.

I don’t know why I bother worrying in the first place

Remember the post I wrote a little while ago about my car woes?  Here’s a recap in case you need it:

• I have a love/hate relationship with my car
• It needs several hundreds of dollars worth of work on it to pass safety
• It didn’t pass it’s e-test (costing us MORE money in the process of finding that out)

So, to summarize, my car is still a piece of crap. This post is not about that – I’ve dwelled on that enought I think.  This post is about another experience (with our other car) we had this week that once again reminded me that God does in fact have our backs.

Ben went to get his car an oil change on Tuesday at Canadian Tire.  As he was driving away, his oil light went on, and then, moments later, the engine starts smoking BIG TIME.  He pulls over, pops the hood and notices that the oil filter isn’t where it’s supposed to be -it’s just resting out in the open.   Now, if you’re like me and a TOTAL dolt when it comes to cars, let me give you the short version of what this means:

It’s BAD.  REALLY BAD.  Basically, there was oil everywhere except where it was supposed to be.  And that too is bad.  if a car has no oil and is running dry, it can mean the end of that car’s existence.  (See, don’t I sound like I know what I’m talking about?  I’m pretty sure I could open my own mechanic shop and say things like  “on a scale of 1 to REALLY BAD, your car is about a not-so-good….now that will be the ridiculous price of $700″)

Anyway – Ben calls Canadian Tire, tells them they better send a tow-truck, and back to the shop he goes.  The mechanic is really apologetic, and knows that they goofed BIG TIME.  So, to make a long story short, here’s what Canadian Tire did for us to try and make amends for their mistake:

1. Paid for a two day car rental, including the gas.  $130 bucks
2. Repaired the front coils and struts (umm…don’t ask me what those do…all I know is ours were failing, one coil even fell off in May, as we drove down the road..and I don’t have to be a car expert to know that is NOT good.) That would have been a $700 repair at least.
3. Repaired our A/C.  Probably another $100
4. Put new tires on the front.  We’ll ballpark this one at about another $100.
5. Cleaned the inside of the car, and shampooed the outside of the engine.  (I didn’t know you could do that, but apparently, you can)
6. Gave us $80 in Canadian Tire money to cover the cost of 5 oil changes at any location.
7. The guarantee to do any other internal engine work for free for the next 6 months, if there does happen to be some damage from this mistake.

Overall, we gained about $1000 dollars in work done to our car/services.

All in all, it worked out ok.  And yes, again, I was reminded that worrying about stuff like money, posessions, etc. doesn’t actually get me very far.  God totally reminded me that he’ll take care of us, just like he always has and will.  I’m pretty sure I’ll need this lesson many times over in my life, but for now I’ll try and learn from it, celebrate it and be thankful.

What about you? Any life lessons lately?

A Date, A Surprise, and A Steak

On Friday I took Ben on a surprise date.  Thanks to a generous couple in our church, I was able to take Ben out to the Keg.  I got the gift card from them on Tuesday (as a thank you to Ben and I for house sitting over the summer), and was able to keep it a secret for an entire 3 days before it literally started to burn a whole in my purse.  Literally. 

For those of you that know me, you know that keeping surprises isn’t exactly my strong suit.  Well, actually, it might just be Ben that knows this, since he is usually the receipient of my lame attempts at surprising him.  So, when I got the gift card, I thought it would be fun to keep it a secret, and then one night just tell Ben to put on something nice cause I was taking him out.

I lasted 3 whole days people.  And this just a gift card.  Can you imagine what will happen if I ever (hopefully one day) get pregnant? Good luck keeping that one under wraps for very long.  “Oh hey everyone. We’re about 5 minutes pregnant…just thought you’d like to know”

Anyway – as I was saying, we went to the Keg. All I have are 10 words: Pecans, honey dijion sauce, goat cheese; all on my steak.  Yeah, it was good.  And I ate the whole thing.  Which is rare for me to do.  (I get full fast…deal with it).  I paid for it after – just ask Ben who had to put up with my moaning and whining, cursing my gut, and being doubled over for a while. – but it was worth every penny we didn’t have to pay.

 

ps – I realize this blog has been pictureless for a while.  I should really start documenting more things eh?  Here’s a freebie just for fun:

A post that should be An Open Letter to my Car, but I just can’t bring myself to look it in the eye right now

So, my car and I are in a fight. 

Let me set the stage first:  I find myself caught in a bit of a tension with my black little golf, because on the one hand, I love this car: It was (is) my FIRST car, it’s a VW, and it’s a standard.  It symbolizes my independence, both in the fact that I bought it out of necessity as I was moving out on my own, making my way in the world, starting my first job, paying my first rent, and just generally doing things that grown ups do.  It also is a symbol of independence, because I had to learn how the drive the thing.  There’s something quite humbling about buying your very first car…and then needing your dad to drive it home for you because you can’t actually drive standard.   We’ll leave the actual story of me learning how to drive it, for another day -but here’s a few words to help you paint the picture:

• intersection
• stalling,
• horns beeping,
• “JUST TAKE YOUR FOOT OFF THE CLUTCH SLOWER”.  “I AM DAD!! WHAT DO YOU THINK I’M DOING??” “WELL YOU’RE OBVIOUSLY NOT DOING IT SLOW ENOUGH OR WE WOULDN’T BE STALLED IN THIS INTERSECTION”,
• pulling over immediately following said intersection,
• vowing to never drive standard again.

Anyways, I digress.  As I was saying, on the one hand, I love my little black Golf. But on the other hand….it’s a piece of crap.  3 days ago I had to get the exhaust fixed – a $330 job.  “Ok, not too bad” Ben and I remark,  commenting that its actually been a little while since we’ve had to do work on it.  But then the mechanic tells us that there’s actually several hundreds of dollars of more work that he would recommend we do, just to get it to the level of being “safe”.  (Safe: psssssh.  Such a relative term eh?) I think we’ll pick and choose which on his list we complete- but really – it’s not boding well for thsi little black nemesis of mine. 

THEN – we take it to get it e-tested, (which is a necessary test in order to renew your license for another year), and it FAILED.  SO another $200 later, we get a temporary e-test certification, and the problem still isn’t fixed (Because that would be another $450).   Awesome.

So long story short (well, sort of), my car and I are in a fight.  I still love it.  I think I always will.  But I just can’t talk to it right now.  Maybe in a few days I’ll get over my disappointment at how it’s let me down, and I might even get to the point where I replenish its air fresheners, or vaccuum it’s floors, but for now, I think I just need my space.

I suppose I should write something

I’ll be honest, I actually have nothing to say.  (But I bet I’ll still manage to fill a few paragraphs here).

I just know how it can feel checking someone’s blog, only to find the same old post they had posted there last week…or maybe even the week before that.  And I’d hate to do that to all three of you that read, so I thought I’d add just a minor little post, so that you can stop thinking “for the love of everything good in this world, would you POST already Karmyn??”. 

Or maybe I’m just a little too full of myself and no one actually cares if this blog is updated – in which case: FINE THEN. BE THAT WAY.  KEEP STARING AT THE POST ABOUT BROWN EYED GIRL. SEE IF I CARE.

Ok, wait – I didn’t mean that.  Come back.

I guess I could tell you all about how we now officially have moved and have stopped living in other people’s houses.  It was a great run while it lasted, but I’ll admit – I do enjoy having my own stuff back.  It has taken us a while to get things unpacked, and settled here in our new place, but slowly it’s starting to feel like home. 

 I’ll post pictures soon, but I can’t yet.  Mostly because it’s still kind of messy and boxy.  And by boxy, I mean that there are boxes everywhere.  And really, who wants to see a messy, boxy, apartment?  I know I don’t.

The Soundtrack of my Life: vol. 1

Something you may or (more likely) may not know about me, is that frequently, falling asleep at night doesn’t always come easy.  Like I’m sure a lot of others of you out there, it’s just tough sometimes to shut off your brain. 

The past couple of months, with moving, starting a new job, and just general life changes, I’ve found that I just can’t. stop.thinking. about all that lay ahead.  It’s exciting, but can be frustrating.  To combat this problem, I find I have to have something to fill my head instead.  Sometimes, it’s reading until I’m just so tired I fall asleep with the book in hand, sometimes it’s listening to talk radio (which I did mostly as a kid – I would listen to the FAN590 and at the age of 11 became very well versed in the ways of Chuck Swirsky, and also the show that told people how valuable their sports paraphernalia was…). Lately, because I now share a bed with someone who has no troubles hitting the hay, I can’t just leave a light on for reading, or a radio on for listening.  So I’ve resorted to my MP3 player.  Frequently, I will watch episodes of My Name is Earl, but sometimes I’ll just scroll through some of the songs on there.

Which brings me to this post…(long intro eh? See that’s what you get when you come visit my blog…a long history of my sleep habits as a child…I know, I don’t know why you keep reading either).

As I’ve been listening lately, I’ve realized that pretty much every song on my MP3 player evokes some sort of memory.  As I lay in the dark, being as still and quiet as I can be (you know, so princess Ben doesn’t wake up), I enjoy just thinking about how significant a role music plays in our lives.  I think it says something when you can instantly be transported back to a moment, or season of life when you hear a song. 

I thought from time to time, (when there’s just nothing else to write about), I’d start sharing those memories.  They’re not all significant, profound, and some of them are just downright silly, but I thought -what the heck -maybe you’ll find it interesting, (or maybe not), chances are, several of you will be a part of the memories, and maybe it will cause you to stop, and think about the songs in your life soundtrack. 

So here goes:

Brown Eyed Girl – Van Morrison

February 2005- I was on a missions trip down to Mississippi with Redeemer.  We took a day off from our construction work to drive the 5 hour, euchre-filled trek down to Louisiana to spend a day in New Orleans, just after Mardi Gras.  The streets down there really are alive, and there are so many sights, sounds, colours and tastes to be had.  As I walked around with close friends, I soaked in the sun that I knew my Canadian peeps were totally missing out on in the dead of winter back home, with some embarassing mardi gras beads around my neck. (That is definitely another story for another day…let’s just say Christy and I lost a crucial game of euchre).  We stopped at one (of the many) cafe/bars on bourbon st.  We didn’t go in, there was no need to – as they had all the windows open, and the restaurant just became an extension of the busy street. The band inside was playing Brown Eyed Girl, and before you could sing Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la, we were all dancing like fools, singing at the top of our lungs.

It was a moment where we could be whoever the heck we wanted.  Strangers and friends alike were just dancing and rocking out to a classic, and we all joined in. We laughed hard, we danced poorly, and we sang like we owned the song.  (Which I do by the way, being a brown eyed girl and all)