Who Be Dat?

You know, these polls are pretty fun! [Polls over there <---- on the sidebar.] It's interesting that most of my readers are between 22 and 39. I guess I'm right in the middle of that, so it makes sense. I thought for some reason that I would have more readers over 40 or 50 for some reason. You guys must just sound really wise and seasoned in your comments.

Also? I'd like to know who's chiming in from Finland and Poland and Canada! It appears that with a few exceptions, my readership is primarily on the east coast, my homeland, though this blog has always been written in Texas, my other blob of readers. Perhaps this is only interesting to me, but it's my blog and I'll blabber on if I want to.

Speaking of blabber, I would like to share a PS to my frugality post this week. After scoring all the free/cheap groceries, I hatched a new plan. I transferred my prescription to CVS in honor of their "transfer a prescription for a $30 gift card" offer. I paid my $7 for my meds, spent $30 on items from my Target list for free (!) and next month? I'll be transferring that prescription right on over to Kroger, where they've offered me a $20 gift card for each transferred prescription. That's right, baby! I'm beating the system again! Whoop!

It's so worth it.

I have a new obsession. If you read this blog, you already know I'm slightly, um.....frugal. Cheap. Really, I'm a total tightwad. I've always clipped coupons and stalked sales and revered outlet shopping, but now? I've crossed into a whole new realm of cheap. The magical website that is the Grocery Game has become the highlight of my week.

This website pairs up sales at your local grocery store with coupons from the last month or two and gives you the advantage of rock bottom prices. On Monday? I saved 50% on my bill. I got $114 of groceries for $57. FOR REAL! It's the most amazing thing ever. If you decide to do it? Please email me at whenpigssing at yahoo dot com and ask me for the email address I used so you can put me as your referrer. You won't be sorry, readers! Take it from me, the Queen of Cheap.

I call my mom each week to tell her how much I saved and am appalled at her lack of interest. How can saving $57 not interest you?? I can't fathom the apathy. She says it sounds like too much trouble. Too much trouble? It's the best 30 minutes of my Sunday! I hunker down, crouched over my desk like a detective on a mission. I scan my list and snatch a coupon with a satisfied cackle of pride. I jot down a meal idea to go with the deal. It's like me against the system. The grocery store system....mwah ah ah! I got yer number, Kroger!

Entering Kroger on Monday mornings, I pretend I'm a crafty bandit robbing the grocery store blind. Clutched in my hand is my wad of coupons and my list of goods. I'm armed, I'm ready. I dart up and down the aisles, laughing snidely at the sale signs because I'm already in the know. Buy one, get one free, 10 for $10, 50% off with card...mine, all mine! I grab, I toss, I weave, and at last, the pinnacle moment.....[cue heavenly music] I check out. My heart begins to pound softly in anticipation of what's about to transpire.

I know the cashier must be astounded at the amount of double beeps emanating from the register, indicating my price reductions. I know he's thinking, "Wow, now this is a chick who knows how to save some green!" He's impressed, I can see it in his eyes. I demurely keep my stash of coupons tucked behind the counter, until he gives me my low, low, low total and then....Wha-BAM! I fan out my hoard of coupon goodness and thrust it into his palm. How low can she go?? I know he's thinking. He feverishly scans them one after another until the big moment. The climax. "Ma'am, you've saved 50% today using your Kroger Plus card." I tingle down to the tips of my toes and break into a relieved sweat. It was worth it.

Ain't she purty?

Look at me! All writing blog posts this week and stuff! You want to know why? Do ya? Do ya? Huh? Because I got a laptop! Wooooo hoooo! It's a pretty big step into the 00's for me.

It is definitely a girl, but she does not have a name yet. I haven't moved stuff over yet, so I'm sort of using two computers at once now which is a bit of a pain. I'm going to have to train in laptop keyboard typing. My fingers are freakishly long and get tangled up on a small keyboard. I like my fingers to be able to dance about on a big keyboard, where I can type really fast without errors. Enough about my secretarial skills, I'm off to meditate about this computer's name. Ta!

Woof?

Eddie was questioning Amber and Jameka asking God for help in the all-important Big Brother game. While this has troubled me too, (as well as Amber praying and saying, "God bless you", but that's another story*) I was much more distracted by last night's extended discussion about Amber's future modeling career. If I'm not mistaken, there was mention made by Amber of her "pretty body" and her "good face" and her "bubbly personality". Um, have I been watching the same show? Because....I'm a little confused. She looks like a bulldog. And she cries every 2.5 minutes between rounds of telling God to bless himself. Which magazine do you think she's aiming for in this alleged modeling career?

*Update: If anyone does not watch this compelling program, here was Amber's prayer yesterday:
"Hey God, it's me. I don't want you to think that I'm doubting you or I'm mad at you, 'cause I'm not. Because I love you, God, and...and...God bless you. Help me be strong!"

Side Thought:

Why do men think that Windex can clean anything? Like a kitchen counter? Is it the duct tape of cleaning products?

All My Children

Yeah, so please forgive my blatant absence over the last week. I've been here, chugging away, as always, but somehow my children are getting in the way of my blogging. Here, I present to you my List of Excuses:

1. Piglet, 11 months yesterday, decided about a month ago that morning naps are for babies. He, apparently, does not consider himself to be a baby. He now naps for a grand total of an hour on a good day in the afternoon. This is when I sit down, though not at the computer of late.

2. Piglet has also learned some new things that have kept me very busy:

a) Sometimes? If you push really hard? Air will come out of your caboose and it makes noise. That noise is hilarious and if you look at mom, she'll laugh too.

b) If you don't feel like eating what's on your tray, just slip a little over the side and Gus will eat it for you.

c) If you pile your belongings in your crib corner, you can stand on them and allllllllllmost climb out!

3. Piglet has also decided that he is soooooo over the acts of getting dressed and getting his diaper changed. He believes that these are torturous, unnecessary acts of meanness inflicted upon him out of pure spite and malicious intentions. To counter this, he spends an entire dressing session hurling himself onto his stomach and trying to crawl off the changing table. This action may or may not involve poop. This poop may or may not involve the funk that is digested meat. This event may or may not cause me to audibly gag, depending on how much poop winds up on me/the wall/Piglet's new outfit that I will now have to take off and start over.

4. Gus has been active lately. Very, very active. Let's start with his snake. Not last year's snakes, the new one. The 2007 snake. The one that snuck up on him while he was sunning on the patio. That would be snake sneaking up on Gus, not the other way around. Gus decided to attack it, leaving me to run outside and pull The Idiot Dog off of The Angry Snake, complete with little flappy sniggly tongue and hissy sounds. Gah.

5. The next day, Gus caught himself a Prize. I heard the usual incessant rhythmic barking that is always indicative of a successful capture of the animal variety. Usually is a mouse or a toad, which Gus will "play" with until it dies, then he barks at it because it ceases to play. This time, I trekked out to check the goods and it was a baby squirrel that I assume had fallen from a tree. I'm going to be the first to tell you that baby squirrels are not cute. This detail did not stop Gus from prancing with pride as he carried his prize all over the yard, angry mama squirrel chattering and hissing at him as she leaped from tree to tree, giving Gus the what-for.

6. Finally, this morning I decided to attempt going to church alone with the Piglet, as Mr. Pigs had to work all day and the church provides a nursery to allow me to commune with people my age. I went for it. After the ten minute battle of the clothing with Piglet, I emerged from his room sweaty, hair askew, but almost on time, and grabbed up his provisions: Cheerios, sippy cup, froggy, diapers. Check. Racing out the door in my heels and dress, I heard it: Gus's "I've got something" run. It has a sound unique to an In-House Capture. I sighed, put Piglet on the floor and dashed to Gus. The dog was crouched, legs splayed in a defensive stance, as he clenched his jaws tightly to a large ziploc bag filled with the leftover buns from last night's cookout. We're talking about 10 hamburger buns here and Gus was not giving up the goods. Piglet crawled into the den and laughed and clapped as he watched me dart around the dining room table, skirt flapping, heels clacking, in my effort to win back tonight's dinner. Gus hesitated, I lunged, grabbed, and tackled. Prying the bag from Gus's clenched, growling piehole, I returned them to the counter and left, now ten minutes late.

So, as you can see, I have a very good series of excuses as to my recent lack of posting. I'm hoping to do better this week. School is starting around here, my tutoring gig has ended, and life should slow down a bit. Barring more snakes or Piglet learning to walk/run, I should be around this week. Good day.

Do Worms Commune?

Omigoshomigoshomigosh. I think I just ate a worm. Or a worm's friend. Or possibly a worm's family member. I was innocently gnawing away on my nectarine when I looked down and saw Willy Worm up on his, um....backside, I guess, waving his torso in the air at me as though to say, "DOWN HERE! Watch out! Don't eat me, lady!" I'm pretty sure if he had arms, he would have been waving them.

First of all, how does a worm get into a fruit? The obvious answer would be that he ate his way in, but there were no holes. Was he born in there? I'm gagging just thinking about the gaping hole in the middle of my nectarine, which, I suspect, was like his living room or something. Surely he didn't live alone, right? I'm pretty sure I got some bonus protein with that piece of fruit. I gotta go brush my teeth now. Again.

Gah!

Dude, what is wrong with China? I'm sure there's more to it than I know or understand, but how many baby bibs and toys are we going to have to have recalled for dangerous lead levels before someone comes up with a different plan? Is this because of outsourcing? Is this because no one in America does "lead checks" on products manufactured outside of the country before plopping them on store shelves and selling them at five bucks a pop to America's children? What is UP? I am so annoyed right now, with five of the offending bibs sitting in my kitchen with rips in the lead-ridden vinyl that has been recalled.

I realize that I am a cheapskate. Guess where a lot of the cheapest products are made? That's right, it's not the US of A! So I guess, by being a frugal shopper, I am actually the problem? Is that what I'm supposed to think? I wonder how easy it would be to find a bib that's actually made in America? I checked all of mine and none of them are domestic bibs. Guess I'd better go buy me some terrycloth and get to stitchin'.

But hey! No worries! Babies R' Us is going to give me my five bucks back! That makes potential lead poisoning all better. Sure.

Culinary Prowess

Let it be known that I am a fabulous cook. I love to eat, therefore I love to cook. Or something like that. I'm not a professional in any manner, but I love to read a bunch of recipes and then combine them all to make something to my own taste.

I vex my mother terribly because I don't use measuring implements and I experiment on the first try, something that she says is a kitchen no-no. The only downside of this style of cooking is that when it turns out to be a tasty treat, I often have no idea what I did to make it. But tonight? Tonight was different.

I've been trying to make pad thai as good as a restaurant's for a long time now. After several failed attempts, tonight was The Night. I scoured 8 or 10 recipes and read all of the reviews and adjustments and suggestions. I imagined the precise flavor of the delectable Pad Thai of my favorite restaurant and I went for it, carefully making note of how much of each ingredient I used, something new for me.

And do you know what? It. Was. Awesome. Almost as good as the restaurant and I know exactly what to alter to make it perfect. I've typed up my recipe and am sharing it with my reading public. Here you go:

How to Make Wicked Awesome Pad Thai, by Pigs.

1. Soak rice noodles in hot water for 20 minutes, then boil for 3 minutes, drain, and set aside.

2. On high heat, sauté 2 cloves of minced fresh garlic and 3 tablespoons of finely chopped onion in 1/3 cup olive oil (and/or peanut oil). When lightly browned, add 2 tsp of shrimp paste and 1 tablespoon dried shrimp. (You could leave this out and it will still be good, but I'm adding it next time.)

3. Add cubes of tofu and/or chicken. Sprinkle with paprika, then cook until golden. Lower heat to medium.

4. Add 6 tablespoons of soy sauce, 2 tablespoons of rice vinegar, 4 tablespoons of brown sugar, 2 tablespoons of ketchup, and one teaspoon of chili powder. When dissolved and mixed, add one large spoonful of creamy peanut butter.

5. Stir in ½ can of bean sprouts, or equivalent of fresh, blanched bean sprouts.

6. Make hole in center of mix and add two eggs. Allow to harden, then scramble before mixing in.

7. Add enough noodles to make two servings and not dilute sauce, toss for a couple of minutes, and spoon into bowls.

8. Squeeze lime onto each serving and top with crushed peanuts, red pepper flakes to taste, and green onion.

9. Taste it. Love it. Thank me. Admire my cooking prowess.

Begin Mini-Rant

Well, in reference to yesterday's post, I disagree with most people. Bunco is not exactly a prompt social event. There's usually close to an hour of socializing and drinking that takes place before we start playing, so I'm almost expecting people to be up to half an hour late. What bothered me were my two neighbors - two! - who showed up 5 minutes early. Now, if it had been a neighbor that I hang out with regularly or my next door neighbor or something, that would be fine. But these are two women that I mainly only see at Bunco or maybe out walking. The time was 7:00pm, which is also when we are trying to put Piglet to bed, so when they arrived, there was a baby bath in progress, Gus on the loose, and I was taking out the trash. But, whatever. I just think society has shifted from being prompt to being a courtesy 5-10 minutes late. I hate being the first person to get somewhere. It's weird. That's all I have to say about that. Rant over.

Miss Manners, part two

Played the role of hostess last night. Do you think it's more rude to be five minutes early or thirty minutes late to an event? (Hypothetically, of course.) And it was bunco, not an official meeting or anything.

"You Barf On It, You Buy It."

So, I had to run into the Gap to return a shirt that I had bought for Mr. Pigs that did not meet with his standards. (Standards being: blue.) I had dared to purchase a shirt in the rowdy, promiscuous colors of brown and green. (Gasp!) Grabbing my shopping bag, I scooped up Piglet and darted into the outlet store. No need for a stroller or a diaper bag, I was just going to be in and out, lickety split. Snap, snap!

I entered the store and felt my eyes glaze over. No matter where I am, it's difficult for me to simply make a return. There's always a possibility of a sale or a steal or a Real Find to be had. Deciding on a quick, innocuous spin around the store, I headed for the nearest rack. I expertly covered the shorts, the pajamas, the baby clothes, and the accessories rack before spotting a possibility: a rack of brown shirts marked $6.99. I dashed, I darted, I snatched up that brown shirt. [Note: I have a disproportionate amount of brown shirts in my wardrobe, so many that I am now trying to cut back.]

After a moment's admiration and a kicky little skip over the price tag, I decided to carry it around with me to see if it still tickled my fancy at the end of my mini-spree. Sadly, I did not have the opportunity for that time to pass. Why, you ask? Because Piglet chose that moment, after six weeks of vomit free days, to spit-up hurl all over the aforementioned brown shirt. HURL. There is a point at which spit-up ceases to be the sweet, innocent, milky baby leak that it once was, and we have apparently, reached, surpassed, and exceeded that point because my child - my cute, flaxen-alfalfa-haired Piglet - had just flat out retched all over this very debatable brown shirt.

Not just any run of the mill puke, no no! Avocados and yogurt made up a large part of his lunch that day and I'm gonna tell you something: Yogurt that has festered in the stomach for an hour or so does not smell good. Sweet, giggly little gap-toothed Piglet had just created and shared a green gunky funk that was quickly fogging women's section of the Gap. Clearly, I was now purchasing a mediocre brown shirt for $6.99. I hastened to the register, my nose curling in revulsion, my hand wet with warm, chunky green puke, my pride buried under a piece of avocado threatening to drip off of the neckline of my pending purchase.

I had no wipes, no Kleenex, no choices. I sidled up in line to a woman with a stroller and conjured my most pathetic expression. She took one look at me and started yanking fistfuls of wipes from beneath her stroller. I don't know who she was, but someone owes her a big 'ol piece of karma. I wiped myself and my return sack off as best I could and tried to look as though I had no idea where that smell was coming from. At last, it was my turn to pay.

The young faced teenager stared at me in horror as I tried to explain my predicament. She had clearly never seen vomit before, at least not in this line of work. Wiping chunks of bright green essence off of the shopping bag I passed it to her and told her proudly that I'd managed to keep the vomit off of the shirt I was returning. "No such luck for this one, though!" I laughed gaily as I held up the brown-splattered-green shirt. She was not amused. I passed her the price tag to help her avoid contact with our foul green wonderland. The Gap is usually quite stingy with their hangers, but this time? She held open a massive bag and allowed me to drop my purchase inside, hanger and all. Bonus!

I gathered my pride picked up my bag and slunk out the door, not to be seen again in the Gap for some time. Lesson? Always take the stroller, no matter how quick you think the errand might be. Always.

Harry Potter: Pigs' Breakdown With Spoilers

Now that Eddie has finished reading at last, we can get to it. Some of these questions and comments I wrote a week ago and have settled on answers now, but would still like to hear you talk about it. A nice roundtable conversation, if you will.

1. I want to know what Harry's job was when he grew up. And Hermione's, Ron's, and Malfoy's. We know about Neville. Since writing this, I've read J.K. Rowling's interview and was pleased to learn about the jobs of Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Luna. That was a load off the 'ol mind.

2. Seems like Ron and Hermione's son would've been named Fred. I hated that Fred was killed. Wasn't maiming George enough? Sheesh.

3. I kind of got chills when Grown Harry called his son Albus Severus. I wonder if James' middle name is Sirius?


4. I loved how Neville got to be a hero in the end after being kind of a goobersmooch for so long. Oh, and how his Grandmother was a total badass. He finally made her proud. Then she went off to battle evil and kill Death Eaters. Heh.

5. I'm amazed and enthralled by Rowling's ability to weave in what seemed like insignificant details from even the first book to the final plot. Big ones to me: Griphook and the details about Gringott's from book one, Lee Jordan the Quidditch announcer winding up with the radio show, the invisibility cloak having such significance, the enchantment protecting Harry from his mother was actually tangled up with Voldemort's Horcrux mess, the Mirror of Erised...

6. I knew Snape was working with Dumbledore! I knew it! The love story with Lily was really interesting. I didn't see that coming, but it made greasy Snape somewhat endearing.

7. Dobby died helping Harry. I love that Harry dug his grave without magic. I'm still sad about Hedwig. That seemed a little rough.

8. Professor McGonagall got to show her feistiness. It was awesome.

9. Kind of want to know who raised Tonks and Lupin's baby. Tonks' mom?

10. Where did Harry get all his gold? I wish I knew more history on his parents. The ending seemed to leave open a chance for further development into the lives of his children, but I don't think she'll do that. She said she was done. But if she decided to change her mind, I'd certainly read it. Have now read about her possible intention to write a Harry Potter Encyclopedia with everyone's backstories. I think she could use another billion dollars or so. I'll chip in.

11. Who's the headmaster at Hogwarts? McGonagall? The interview says she'd be too old, so it's someone new.

12. Why Fred instead of Percy if a Weasley must die? Interesting that Percy came back into the fold.

13. I want someone to explain to me exactly how it was that Harry didn't die from Voldemort's curse, and exactly what happened to the "raw, flayed-looking child" that was in the room with Harry and Dumbledore. I get the gist, but I want specifics. I read it a couple times, but it still seemed kind of ambiguous to me.

14. Eddie and I just had to go back and figure it out, and we get it now, but it was very intricate and cool how Draco was actually the master of the Elder Wand. It was such a tiny detail in Book 6 that was so important at the end. Wow! It was fun to talk about.

So what did you think? What are your questions? Let's chat it up! Go!

Your Ending

Oh, that was good fun. Eddie should know better than to have such a questionable IM session with me. And the rest of you should know me well enough to know that if something tragic had happened to Eddie, I wouldn't joke about it. Well, not major joking.

Anyway, end of story was that she put me through all that drama and all it was was an unwanted/unexpected visitor. Could she not have typed "thatguy's here, brb"? Would that have been soooooooooo difficult? I think not. Anyone who knows me should cater to my overactive imagination. Mr. Pigs is still learning that after, oh...nine years or so. Slow learner.

Speaking of Mr. Pigs, his quote of the week is this: "How come you can't just put my clothes away? You leave me a pile of folded clothes on my bed every single day." Excuse me? No lie. That's what he said, in all seriousness. The quote from today is: "How long are you going to bring that up? Is that going on your blog?" Yes. Yes, it is.

The Mystery of the Missing Eddie

I've been known to overreact on occasion. But when you're IMing with your best friend who is about 1800 miles away and she types this:

Eddie: (7/31/2007 8:30:21 PM): holy crap
Eddie: (7/31/2007 8:30:29 PM): i don't ever answer the door if i'm not expecting someone
Eddie: (7/31/2007 8:30:36 PM): it's scary back here, right?
Pigs: (7/31/2007 8:30:38 PM): k
Eddie: (7/31/2007 8:30:43 PM): i just got home a little while ago from the movies
Eddie: (7/31/2007 8:30:47 PM): and i'm watching bb
Eddie: (7/31/2007 8:30:52 PM): and someone started knocking on my door
Pigs: (7/31/2007 8:30:55 PM): and the boogey man came???
Eddie: (7/31/2007 8:30:58 PM): and chloe was all freaked out so i got scared
Pigs: (7/31/2007 8:31:01 PM): who was it?
Pigs: (7/31/2007 8:31:11 PM): do you have a peephole?
Eddie: (7/31/2007 8:31:11 PM): so i ran into my bedroom and stood in there holding a big ceramic vase
Eddie: (7/31/2007 8:31:17 PM): no peephole
Pigs: (7/31/2007 8:31:33 PM): i hope not your nice one from texas

....and then disappears from IM completely, you tend to panic a little bit. All I wanted to do was lie down and watch me a little Big Brother, but no..... I had to worry. And worry I did. Be sure to note the large time gaps.

Pigs: (7/31/2007 8:32:26 PM): hello?

Pigs: (7/31/2007 8:34:37 PM): um, it's a little scary when you stop responding...

Pigs: (7/31/2007 8:42:30 PM): ahem...

Eddie: (7/31/2007 8:46:59 PM): i'm here
Eddie: (7/31/2007 8:47:00 PM): brb

Pigs: (7/31/2007 8:47:05 PM): k

At this point, I was relatively certain that some kidnappers/robbers had broken into her house and forced her to type that at gunpoint. Then she disappears for another 32 minutes. Clearly, she's bound and gagged and stashed under something heavy. My heart began to pound as my imagination took off.

Pigs: (7/31/2007 9:02:30 PM): DUDE! what's going on?
Pigs: (7/31/2007 9:02:49 PM): i gotta head to bed soon, but i don't know what's happening over there.

Pigs: (7/31/2007 9:14:25 PM): okay, look here. you call me when you finish whatever the heck you're doing. i have to go out of the office.

Twenty minutes had passed. What on earth was going on? I called her phone three times, not getting an answer. I looked up the phone number to her local podunk police department. One more check on IM:

Pigs: (7/31/2007 9:17:52 PM): YOU!
Eddie: (7/31/2007 9:18:52 PM): i'm here
Eddie: (7/31/2007 9:18:55 PM): just give me a minute
Pigs: (7/31/2007 9:19:01 PM): what the heck are you doing??
Pigs: (7/31/2007 9:19:10 PM): i swear i'm about to call the police

Pigs: (7/31/2007 9:23:27 PM): you must agree that this is very strange behavior and it's causing me to delay my viewing of bb

The minutes ticked by like hours. I dialed her number a few more times, had Mr. Pigs read this transcript, and readied my phone to call the law to go check on her.

Pigs: (7/31/2007 9:29:48 PM): EDDIE MIDDLENAME LASTNAME!!!

Pigs: (7/31/2007 9:32:56 PM): there better be a darn good explanation for this
Pigs: (7/31/2007 9:33:33 PM): i'm not going to bed until you call me. so call. stat.

Pigs: (7/31/2007 9:46:32 PM): if you don't IM me or call me, i'm going to hunt down thatguy’s phone number and send him to check on you.

It was now well past my bedtime and Big Brother was out of the question. I gave it one more try.

Pigs: (7/31/2007 10:02:16 PM): dude, i'm gonna call the big country police to go check on you.

Now, good readers, what would you have done? End of story to come after suggestions are made to me, the good friend over here in Texas with the active imagination.

Dear Dish Network,

Today I received deplorable customer service from your company. It is hard for me to understand how a satellite television service, an industry which relies upon customers, could treat its customers with such disrespect and disdain. In my efforts to give you more of my business and thereby more of my money, I was treated rudely and arrogantly in thanks.

One week ago, I called to have an additional television hooked up to my satellite. I was given an appointment today, August 1 between the hours of 12:00 and 5:00. I'm certain that you realize what an inconvenience these vast time ranges are for everyone, but I understand that is how the installation process works. Having made arrangements to be at home from 12 until 5, I sat in my house and waited. And waited. And waited. I realize that the technician could arrive at 5pm and this would be within the agreed upon range. At 4:50pm, the technician called my house to inform me that he wouldn't be able to make it today. He had put me last on his list, he told me, because I live near his home. He was sorry, but it had begun to rain. It had, indeed, rained earlier that afternoon, but was not in fact raining at my house at that time. He told me to call Dish to reschedule and was very apologetic and polite.

I'm sure that you will understand that I do not have the time in my life to spend another day waiting for five hours for my television to be hooked up. I called Dish Network as instructed and was immediately connected to an individual who clearly understood very little English. After explaining my problem to the customer service representative, he informed me that I had an appointment on August 1st between the hours of 12 and 5. As I had already stated this information to him, I agreed, but repeated my question: What was Dish Network going to do to fix this problem and compensate me for my time? He replied that the technician would be to my house shortly, he was sure. I repeated to him that the technician himself had called me personally to tell me he was not coming. The customer service representative then offered me an appointment on August 7th. After several rounds of explaining and questioning, he put me on hold and came back with my offer: He would credit my account $5 for my trouble. Five dollars. For five hours of wasted time and an appointment a week later than was promised. I asked to speak to someone in scheduling and he connected me to a non-working number and I was disconnected.

I called back and proceeded to have nearly the exact same conversation with another person, this time a woman, who also didn't understand the language. She informed me that I had an appointment on August 1st between the hours of 12 and 5. As I had already stated this information to her as well, I again agreed, but repeated my question: What was Dish Network going to do to fix this problem and compensate me for my time? She replied that the technician would be to my house shortly, she was sure. At this point, I asked to speak to a manager. The woman spent five minutes or so trying to convince me that this wasn't necessary before finally transferring me to a manager, who also struggled with English.

The manager was rude, abrasive and angry. She yelled to me that she could see in the technician's report that he didn't make it to my house because he was detained at the house before mine. This statement was a blatant lie, as the technician himself had told me otherwise, and with a sincere, polite apology. The manager refused to help me get an appointment this week, compensate me in anyway, or otherwise help me.

I feel that as a result of this poor customer service, the least Dish Network could do is to send someone to my home tomorrow morning, as I was last on today's schedule and did not receive my promised service. It seems that a company reliant upon customers would be eager to please those customers who send them money each month. I should not be forced to wait another week, only to waste another 5 hours waiting in my home for a service which may or may not occur. It also strikes me odd that customer service representative would only offer a $5 credit for such a blatant disservice to a customer.

I look forward to hearing from you regarding this matter.

Thank you,

Pigs