Cheers, jeers, and weddings

Earlier today, I joked with Jeff that I should post an entry of rants. The more I think about it, the more I like the idea.

Let's see.

  • First, to Knology, our cable provider. Due to shoddy service and a general run-around over the past few days, we're on the verge of 1) switching cable modem providers 2) demanding a refund for all the service we didn't get this month. Our service has been out for part of every day for the past week. My apologies to those of you who attempted to access domesticat on Friday afternoon. I was halfway through major changes on the site, and had uploaded files but not rebuilt them with greymatter—and then our connection conked out for about five hours.
  • Next, to the idiot parent who brought their child with them to Dr. Namie's office this morning. I love Dr. Namie—he is a fantastic, caring veterinarian who takes splendid care of Tenzing and Edmund. But this morning, while the cats were in their carrier, waiting for their rabies shots, they were terrified by this child who screamed at the top of his lungs while playing. To the parents of that darling little terrorist: if he's old enough to walk and play unattended, he's old enough to learn the dual concepts of "inside voice" and "respect of others." As a result of this child's screaming, our cats, already terrified enough of the vet, were even more frightened and scared. Is it any surprise that they acted out when it came time for their shots?
  • Side note to those parents: don't be surprised in a few years if you suddenly discover you have no control over your child. You might wonder where you went wrong. Jeff and I may not have any children, but we've got a damn good idea.
  • Sears. A good, hearty *catpunt!* to you and your workers in the office on University Avenue. I know from previous experience that if the bridal registry kiosk isn't working, that other workers can print out copies of registries for shoppers. Hey, here's something novel for you guys—I was a customer, and I wanted service. We didn't get it. So we got the registry, no apology added, after a lengthy wait. Your employees conveniently disappeared while we were trying to locate items off of the gift registry, and the bored employee who rang up our purchases informed us that no, they have no kind of gift-wrapping or gift-boxing available for gifts. Don't worry—I won't have to remember to not shop with you again. If that's the best customer service you can muster, it's no wonder your company's in financial trouble.
  • Wal-Mart. I know, I know, it's like kicking a mangy dog. To be truthful, my gripe's as much with Wal-Mart as it is with the groups Wal-Mart allows to peddle items in front of their doors. Jeff and I are united in our hatred of being pestered when trying to make a quick dash into Wal-Mart for sundry items. (We spend enough time trying to avoid that obnoxious store as it is; this is just another reason.) Today it was buying pizza coupons to benefit some-youth-group-or-other. It's plainly obvious that the kids who are having to sell items for fundraising purposes hate being there just as much as we hate being accosted by strangers. I have to believe that most people find it more important to be able to shop in peace.
  • Side note, again. The people peddling stuff outside of Wal-Mart show infinitely more interest in garnering me as a customer than do the employees working inside of Wal-Mart. Heaven forbid if you actually need help finding something. Is it any wonder I shop at Publix? When I need help, I expect to receive help when I ask for it. The rest of the time, I expect to be left alone and allowed to make my shopping decisions in peace.

Ok, rants over.

Now, let me add a side note. Hugh Hartwig, one of Jeff's co-workers, was married today in a Lutheran church. I'd never been to a Lutheran ceremony of any kind, but this was a simple and classy ceremony, and not nearly as formal as I'd expected. The minister related a short sermon about a couple he'd known in his previous parish, up in Minnesota. Complete with Fargo-esque accent, he related the story of a couple that had been married for 68 years.

Yes, sixty-eight. Can you imagine? Neither can I.

So, Dianne and Hugh started out on year 1 today. There's nothing quite so touching as the radiance of a happy couple on their wedding day. The combination of nervousness, joy, and heightened emotions too jumbled to name always shows in the pictures and in the disjointed talk.

Even if you only know one of the participants in the wedding, it's always pleasurable to watch, because the trepidation, joy, worry, nervousness, and relief is always the same in every wedding party.

I had commented to Jeff some time ago that it seemed like we'd gotten past the initial crush of friends' weddings that comes when you are in your early twenties. We're going through a second rush, it seems. One of Jeff's college friends married earlier this spring, Hugh married today, Will and Holley will marry in Chattanooga in a month or two, Rick and Jessica in a year or so, and a few other friends who haven't announced definite plans but seem to have the 'wedding knell' hanging over them.

Before I was married, I cried at weddings, but I was never sure why. After going through one myself, I no longer do—it's too easy to remember all of the work that goes into them. It's different from the married side of the aisle, I suppose.

Ahhh….peace and quiet to write entries. It's almost five-thirty now, and it's amazing how little the phone has rung today. Heather's in DC, Kat's in New York, Rick and Geof are in Mississippi, Jessica's in Mobile. The only people out of our group of friends that are in Huntsvegas this weekend are Sean, spouse and m'self. I suppose, though, I should probably sign off and wander into the living room. I suspect that both of the following statements are true:

a) Jeff is hungry and is ready to go to dinner.
b) The cats are ready for some scritchies.

Time to get back to real life. Cheers.

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