Hose bibs?

It's a nice image isn't it? Your garden variety (insert laughter here) hose wearing a nice little bib. And no, I don't know what a hose bib is, but I do know what a bib is. Apparently as the weather gets colder we need to turn off the water to our hose bibs. Just an example of one more thing that you learn when you own a home.

I'd like to take a bit of time to thank the fine folks over at Verizon for making the Internet switch into our new home so easy. I mean, I just called them up and asked for a change and it happened right off with no hitches. And after fourteen days, two trips out by a technician, five separate phone calls and no less than five disconnected calls we had Internet. I'm not sure if anyone else has noticed the Kafka-esque labyrinth of useless phone trees that they've constructed around Internet service, but it's truly commendable.

M: Can you help me?
Verizon: I'm sorry. I can access your account, but I can't actually change anything. I'll need to transfer you to billing. Billing isn't open right now though, so you'll have to call back tomorrow.

And yes, at some point I did start breaking out into some random f bombs. And no, I don't feel proud of it, and I ended both conversations in which I flipped my shi- by talking to the operator as if they were a lover that I'd been unkind to.

M: I know it's not your fault. I'm sorry. It's just that you're working for a soulless and crappy company.
Verizon: I'm sorry sir.
M: I'm sorry that you have to work at that p.o.s. of a company. That's what I'm sorry about.

I'm pretty sure that if they recorded my interactions for quality control, they'd fine a couple of really nice operators listening to me rant. However, I suspect that they are actually recording calls to see how many disconnections and horrible service a person can take before they lose it. It's kind of like Verizon is running a wide scale version of the MTV show Punk'd. "Oh yeah, you probably thought because you pay us money and took time off work that you'd get to have Internet. You got Punk'd." (Am I spelling it right? I think my spelling is hip.) Suffice to say, it's clearly a large scale government project to see how much we'll take as citizens of this lovely country. Your death panels will not take me!

Overheard in the library and further proof as to why wearing your iPod at all times is overrated. Forget the fact that you wind up deaf. You miss out on gems of conversations going on like this one.

Girl 1: I’m sitting next to these guys I don’t even know and they are talking about all these girls and who has the nicest boobs.

Girl 2: Mmmhmmm.

Girl 1: All guys are the same.

Girl 2: That’s because every guy ever is a douche.

M: Though the words may seem needlessly harsh, in girl 2's defense she did have a pretty nice....kidding.

One of the best things we did in our first two weeks in the neighborhood was to bring down home values by keeping a pile of trash in our back yard. The previous owner illegally dumped (not as bad as it sounds, well maybe worse, but, less so. May my sense of humor never get beyond the point that I see a sign that says no dumping and have a good laugh) trash and the DC trash people claimed that they wouldn't take it. Ergo; we welcomed ourselves to the new hood by having reams of trash piled up in our backyard with raccoons and squirrels foraging through bags for tasty treats.

It only took about two weeks for some people from the DC trash department to show up at random and take the trash away. This, after we had called them several times and been told that they
a) wouldn't pick up the trash
b) would send someone by on Monday
c) Would pick it up on our normal day.
The answer provided depended on whom you spoke with like all good bureaucracies. Consistency is the first sign that peasants will take back the power. Keep them guessing. Thus, on a random Friday, two days after they said they'd pick it up, and a day after our normal trash pick up they cleared the trash from our back yard. And I have to say they took a little piece of me away with that trash. The piece of me that likes to move into a neighborhood and immediately make it crappier, merely by being there.

Other awesome things we did.

Direct TV guy: I couldn't get a signal, so I put the satellite on your neighbor's roof.

Us: You mean. You can't find a signal so you might have to put it on their roof.
DTVGuy: Oh no, it's up there right now.

US: Okay. (Stepping back and expecting to see it near the middle of our shared roof. And no, it is almost completely off to the side on their side of the roof.

Nothing says welcome us to the neighborhood like a giant satellite dish on someone else's roof. We're hoping to rake some leaves onto someone else's lawn, park in people's designated spot, and threaten to have the neighbor's barking dog taken away by animal control before the week is out. Wish us luck!