For some it’s food. For others, it’s alcohol. For still others, it’s as detrimental as crack. I’m talking about addiction. For me, (although some will argue that food is one) it is definitely fast becoming Amazon.
I can’t begin to tell you when the addiction first began, but I know that I have ordered books from them for years, and that to date, I have at least seven shipping addresses on file, three for me, and the rest for gift recipients. Then gradually, the book ordering gave way to ordering CDs (a logical step), and then I went to ordering EVERYTHING else.
Last year, I ordered well over fifty items from Amazon, ranging from the usual books to key chains, to paperweights, to my proudest accomplishment, a floor lamp. Oh, did I mention that I also ordered my son’s (it still feels weird to say that) baby furniture from Amazon?
Even after all that, I still was not ready to completely admit my addiction—until just now. Why, might you ask? Because now Amazon is offering the option to buy back textbooks. (As I write this, I am browsing my shelf to see if there are any that I want to sell back.) It doesn’t matter if you bought them from Amazon or not. It doesn’t matter if they are no longer used by your institution or instructor. If they are on Amazon’s list, you get credit! This credit goes toward your future purchases.
Here’s how it works. You log into Amazon under their buyback store and look up your textbooks by author, title, or ISBN and see if it’s eligible. If it is, there will be a list price. Once you finish, you click complete, and the site will ask you if you’d prefer a UPS label or a USPS label. You pick your choice, and the site provides you a PREPAID shipping label that includes the approximate weight of the package, along with a packing list that you include in the box (that you have to find). Take the box to the place you choose and mail it off. Within three to five days, you receive an email confirming receipt of the books and the credit that’s been applied to your account. This credit is automatically applied to your next purchase.
It’s that simple.
So, does anyone have any books you want to send to a worthy cause? (Me.)
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
"I'm What?"
Here I am at 36 weeks along and I am finally starting to get EXCITED about the fact that in a few weeks I will be a mommy. I have to tell you that this whole journey has been somewhat surreal. In finding out about this life-changing event, it was fairly shocking although my body was telling me, “you know something is different.” As I’ve recounted to the multitude of people who have asked me how I found out, I’m a pretty regular type. I have to eat at the virtually the same time everyday to avoid the crankies; you could tell time by my bathroom breaks; and I have an almost dead-on accuracy of the day my cycle is supposed to appear. So by the 7th of June when good ole Aunt Flo hadn’t shown, I started to get a little anxious. When she didn’t arrive in the second week, that anxiousness started to escalate to something close to panic: to the point where after a swim, I cut my usual hot tub therapy short because of the precaution against pregnant women.
How I truly found out was very comical. After cutting off my hot tub therapy, I was determined to find out, for better or worse, although some innate part of my psyche knew. So I got dressed, left the gym and headed for my local CVS. The CVS I chose was by my apartment and when I made my way to the aisle where the pregnancy tests were held, I discovered a locked case. After asking a sales associate to page someone with a key, I waited patiently by the cabinet…and waited…and waited. No one came and after five interminable minutes (my imagination would like to say it was more like fifteen), I left the CVS, sans test.
It was around 8pm and I was faced with a choice: travel to another CVS or go home and try not to panic. I chose option two, and went home and sat in front of the television. Then I said to myself: I would like a drink. And since this could very well be my last drink for several months, I’m going to enjoy one. And so I opened up a vodka cooler and sipped it to my heart’s content, and savored like it was the best drink on earth (in all probability like a convict on death row). I had two more in the fridge, but they would just be for my DBBF when she found out the news (in truth, I think my father raided the refrigerator and pilfered them). Yes, I had relegated myself to the reality that I was destined for motherhood.
Let me just take a commercial break here and state that I seemed to be the only person who did not want to admit that I would be a viable candidate for motherhood. I’d listened to countless relatives and friends tell me how great a mom I would be, but personally I was happy at the notion of being the eccentric aunt/cousin who had forgone children in exchange for traveling around the world and seeing the great mysteries of earth. I mostly remember my aunt telling me how I was already motherly toward all my younger relatives, and that one day, they would all be jealous of my child. (I only wish she would have lived to see the day when I had a long-term relationship and a child.) But I was happily steeped in the delusion that I would never have kids of my own.
Back from the slight digression. The next day, I went to work as usual and resumed this major shifting and shelf reading project that we had undertaken. However, the constant unknown factor was making it difficult to concentrate and less than an hour later, I found myself later, I found myself downstairs, asking my boss to excuse me for a few minutes while I stepped off campus. Being that it was 10am, I’m sure she thought this was odd, but she didn’t say anything other than okay. So I hopped in my truck and zoomed over to the nearest CVS, which was only a block away, and this CVS did NOT have their tests behind a cabinet, so I grabbed a two-pack of digital Clear Blue Easy that had gave the read out of the word Pregnant or Not Pregnant—believe me, I didn’t want any confusion with those dumb little plusses or minuses—purchased it, then hauled ass back to my job, where I went to the private bathrooms on the second floor and positioned the stick just so to catch the flow of urine (I would end up doing this several times in the upcoming months).
Now for another digression. I would like to say that there is no time that I feel more penis envy than when having to accurately pee in and/or on something. It really is a messy affair for us women. First, we have to gauge the strength of our pee to know exactly in which direction it will flow. The inevitably leads to us at some point to peeing directly on our own fingers. So men, you’ve gotten off pretty easy. There will be more gripes of your easy life in future blogs.
Let me confront the first fallacy of pregnancy that I was able to discover: those commercials where they tell you that you can find out your status in as little as two minutes are completely bogus. A more accurate time frame is 30 seconds. Yes, within thirty seconds (the time it took me to de-pee my fingers on toilet paper), I found out the news that would be the first step in changing my life forever.
Needless to say, the thought of doing any more constructive work for the day was out. I went back to my desk and just sat in stunned silence for most of the day. At least I assume that’s what I did because I recall very little of that day five minutes after the news sunk in.
How I truly found out was very comical. After cutting off my hot tub therapy, I was determined to find out, for better or worse, although some innate part of my psyche knew. So I got dressed, left the gym and headed for my local CVS. The CVS I chose was by my apartment and when I made my way to the aisle where the pregnancy tests were held, I discovered a locked case. After asking a sales associate to page someone with a key, I waited patiently by the cabinet…and waited…and waited. No one came and after five interminable minutes (my imagination would like to say it was more like fifteen), I left the CVS, sans test.
It was around 8pm and I was faced with a choice: travel to another CVS or go home and try not to panic. I chose option two, and went home and sat in front of the television. Then I said to myself: I would like a drink. And since this could very well be my last drink for several months, I’m going to enjoy one. And so I opened up a vodka cooler and sipped it to my heart’s content, and savored like it was the best drink on earth (in all probability like a convict on death row). I had two more in the fridge, but they would just be for my DBBF when she found out the news (in truth, I think my father raided the refrigerator and pilfered them). Yes, I had relegated myself to the reality that I was destined for motherhood.
Let me just take a commercial break here and state that I seemed to be the only person who did not want to admit that I would be a viable candidate for motherhood. I’d listened to countless relatives and friends tell me how great a mom I would be, but personally I was happy at the notion of being the eccentric aunt/cousin who had forgone children in exchange for traveling around the world and seeing the great mysteries of earth. I mostly remember my aunt telling me how I was already motherly toward all my younger relatives, and that one day, they would all be jealous of my child. (I only wish she would have lived to see the day when I had a long-term relationship and a child.) But I was happily steeped in the delusion that I would never have kids of my own.
Back from the slight digression. The next day, I went to work as usual and resumed this major shifting and shelf reading project that we had undertaken. However, the constant unknown factor was making it difficult to concentrate and less than an hour later, I found myself later, I found myself downstairs, asking my boss to excuse me for a few minutes while I stepped off campus. Being that it was 10am, I’m sure she thought this was odd, but she didn’t say anything other than okay. So I hopped in my truck and zoomed over to the nearest CVS, which was only a block away, and this CVS did NOT have their tests behind a cabinet, so I grabbed a two-pack of digital Clear Blue Easy that had gave the read out of the word Pregnant or Not Pregnant—believe me, I didn’t want any confusion with those dumb little plusses or minuses—purchased it, then hauled ass back to my job, where I went to the private bathrooms on the second floor and positioned the stick just so to catch the flow of urine (I would end up doing this several times in the upcoming months).
Now for another digression. I would like to say that there is no time that I feel more penis envy than when having to accurately pee in and/or on something. It really is a messy affair for us women. First, we have to gauge the strength of our pee to know exactly in which direction it will flow. The inevitably leads to us at some point to peeing directly on our own fingers. So men, you’ve gotten off pretty easy. There will be more gripes of your easy life in future blogs.
Let me confront the first fallacy of pregnancy that I was able to discover: those commercials where they tell you that you can find out your status in as little as two minutes are completely bogus. A more accurate time frame is 30 seconds. Yes, within thirty seconds (the time it took me to de-pee my fingers on toilet paper), I found out the news that would be the first step in changing my life forever.
Needless to say, the thought of doing any more constructive work for the day was out. I went back to my desk and just sat in stunned silence for most of the day. At least I assume that’s what I did because I recall very little of that day five minutes after the news sunk in.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
It's a New Year and...
...on this note, I figured I'd start with a new blog. The only problem is I just can't seem to get/hold it together long enough to get the blog going. Don't laugh; I actually set this space up sometime in the summer, and this day, January 13, is the first day I've actually written in it. Yes, I know...sad, but I think I have perfectly good excuses for all my procrastinating.
1. In Fall 2008, I started grad school and it pretty much superseded any writing, reading, and most other pleasures I used to enjoy (except for cocktails and karaoke).
2. Also in Fall 2008, I started teaching as an adjunct. Keep in mind that this was in addition to my full-time day job and blended with grad school, but slightly staggered to keep me somewhat sane. I gradually moved from teaching just one course to whetting my whistle with two, and eventually three (after I completed grad school).
3. In addition, in Fall 2008, I actually began a long-term relationship, which is surprisingly (to me if not others) time-consuming. I am happy to say that I am still in that long-term relationship and that we are expecting our first child in less than a month. which is yet another reason, I've been so defunct on restarting my writing life.
But 2011 is the year for no more excuses, among other things. I will make a conscious effort (already this has hints of deja vu) to at least blog once a week, if not more.
There I think I will leave you with that. See you next week (if not sooner). (Geesh that makes me sound smug; I hope I actually follow through).
1. In Fall 2008, I started grad school and it pretty much superseded any writing, reading, and most other pleasures I used to enjoy (except for cocktails and karaoke).
2. Also in Fall 2008, I started teaching as an adjunct. Keep in mind that this was in addition to my full-time day job and blended with grad school, but slightly staggered to keep me somewhat sane. I gradually moved from teaching just one course to whetting my whistle with two, and eventually three (after I completed grad school).
3. In addition, in Fall 2008, I actually began a long-term relationship, which is surprisingly (to me if not others) time-consuming. I am happy to say that I am still in that long-term relationship and that we are expecting our first child in less than a month. which is yet another reason, I've been so defunct on restarting my writing life.
But 2011 is the year for no more excuses, among other things. I will make a conscious effort (already this has hints of deja vu) to at least blog once a week, if not more.
There I think I will leave you with that. See you next week (if not sooner). (Geesh that makes me sound smug; I hope I actually follow through).
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