it’s the principle
“It’s easier to pay Sirius XM than to try to cancel the service. Trust me.”
This from my husband. The same guy who tries to reuse matches because he doesn’t want to waste them. (I’m all for recycling….but matches? Really?)
Anyway, I was annoyed. Of course. Because while $15/month might not seem like a lot, over 12 months that equates to $180. And multiply that by two because I’m paying for my mom’s service as well.
So $360 for patchy broadcasting and even worse customer service? I mean, I love my “90’s on 9,” but not that much.
No great pictures of the past weekend because shortly after this rousing game of “Hedbandz”…
So on Saturday I decided to cancel my service. Sure I had no idea what my XM subscription number was. This because Sirius refused to communicate with me, with the exception of charging my card at random intervals. But I was determined anyway, mostly because I was going to prove that Ali was wrong.
Here’s how the call went:
- After just an 8 minute wait I was talking to a real, live person. I knew Ali had been exaggerating!
- The real, live person apologized for the wait, for the bad service, for not sending me a bill, and for charging me too much.
- I gloated at Ali. And then asked the representative to cancel my service.
- She offered me a whole year at 50% off. I declined and asked her to cancel my service again.
- She offered me a whole year at 75% off. I declined and begged her to cancel my service.
- She offered me 5 months at $5 per month. I told her she could offer me the service for free and I still wouldn’t want it.
- She asked me to hold for a second while she processed my cancellation.
- And then she hung up on me.
…Maya came down with the flu. Ali wanted to give her Tylenol but I ignored him (as usual). Instead I gave her books, the iPad, full reign of the TV, and sparkling water to get her to stop throwing up. And within 24 hours she was over it!
The worst part of this entire scenario wasn’t that I had to call back and start from scratch. And it wasn’t that I had to tell my mom that I also cancelled her service because I was THAT mad.
No, the worst part was that Ali was right. He was right.
winning
Maya: “I want to be on American Idol. Do you think I would win Mama?”
Obviously the correct answer here is: “Of course you would Maya. You could be a star!”
But I’m not in denial. Or hard of hearing.
Lunch at Terroni Restaurant: Maya might not be able to sing a note but she has good hair. And that’s half the battle right there.
So here’s what I really wanted to say, “Maya, you can’t sing. Not even a little bit. You could never win American Idol. Sorry that your gene pool is so underwhelming.”
Harsh? Yes. But have you seen those poor kids that have the worst auditions in the world? Do you see the judges laughing at them? I can’t imagine anything harsher than letting Maya make a fool of herself.
More weekend pictures: Lunch at Terroni and Dessert at Bouchon
But unlike the uncle who said to me (when I was a teen): “It’s a good thing you got the brains because your sister got all the looks,” I am not completely insensitive.
(As an aside: This explains a lot about me, yes? But I assure you I’m not in search of compliments. I just thought others needed to hear what a filter-less Indian uncle can come up with.)
Lunch with friends at Fig & Olive
Anyway what I said is, “Sometimes, no matter how hard a person tries, they just can’t practice enough to be good enough for American Idol.”
Maya replied with: “Yes, but what about me?”
I’m hoping that by the time she’s old enough to be on Idol I will get through to her. And if not? I’ll just refuse to let her leave the house during audition season.
Whatever it takes.
the report (maya guest post)
I know my mom’s mentioned how much she hates my book reports, but have I mentioned how much I hate them?
Well I hate them a lot. Because book reports mean that my mom and I have to work together, one-on-one, for a loooong time. Which of course means that we’re going to be fighting. A lot.
Which is exactly what happened with my last assignment. Here’s how things unfolded:
January 7 – January 11: My teacher assigned us a book report. I said nothing about it because as my mom says, I’m a “master at procrastination.” She also said I take after my dad in this respect. I think she’s right.
January 12: I debated mentioning the book report but I figured I’d enjoy the weekend instead.
January 14: I told my mom about the assignment and the questions started flying, “When was it assigned? Did you pick a book? Is it an oral report as well? ” I felt exhausted.
We went to Bouchon w/ my mom’s friend Lynn from theactorsdiet.com. She’s an actress and can make cool things out of straws. She’s the best.
January 15: I procrastinated some more. My mom yelled at me again. I promised to start the next day during Homework Club.
January 16: I lost the instructions! And as you can imagine the S@#$ hit the fan when my mom picked me up. (Oops. Sorry about the bad word.)
January 17: My mom reminded me 10 times to ask my teacher for a copy of the instructions. I forgot anyway. My mom was SO mad I feared she was going to end up in the hospital with a coronary. I feared this because she said, “You are going to put me in the hospital. With a coronary.”
January 18 4:15 pm: I got a new copy of the instructions! But my dad picked me up from Homework Club early so I didn’t start my report. Instead we went home and shot at each other with our Nerf guns. Then we set up target practice in the living room. He didn’t ask about my report and I didn’t mention it.
January 18 5:30 pm: While my dad and I were eating the dinner my mom left in the fridge, we sent her a text: “What’s for dinner?” We did this just for fun. It ended up being a bad idea though because she got super mad at my dad for “not paying attention when she talks to him.”
I made the coolest glasses out of Wiki Sticks while we had dinner at Grand Lux Cafe. Doesn’t my mom look awesome?
January 19 7:00 am: My mom told me that I couldn’t sleep over at my friend Shani and Ayla’s house until my book report was 100% done. This scared me so I got busy.
January 19 7:05 am: My mom went to the gym so I asked my dad for help understanding the instructions. He helped me for about 5 minutes and then went back to blasting the TV.
January 19 8:30 am: My mom came back and I showed her my progress. She sighed and told me that my book report was all wrong because my dad didn’t read the instructions properly. She helped me start all over. We cut and colored and glued for a long time and I suddenly felt bad that I was so mean to her.
January 19 9:30 am: I asked my mom if I could have a cookie. She shot me a look. I got back to work.
January 19 10:25 am: I finished my report and boy was I exhausted! I think my mom was too because she said she lost several years of her life. And my dad? Well my dad was completely unfazed and unaffected as usual.
When I grow up? I want to be him. He has the best life ever.
While I'm not going to win Mother/Wife of the Year Award anytime soon, I haven't killed anyone yet or shot myself in the head. And that, my friends, is how I calculate success these days. 
FANCY THAT FANCY THIS 