Good riddance, Sears.

Well, I made the last payment on my Sears MasterCard two days ago. The Sears saga is OVER.

The calls about the bed stopped in November 2010, and now the chair is paid off; I own it free and clear. I’m also proud to say that since the time this whole fiasco started I’ve only bought ONE thing at Sears (it was a $140 Paderno Wok that was marked down to $29.99 I CAN’T RESIST A DEAL LIKE THAT). I avoid Sears like the plague when I’m in a mall now.

Initially, I swore up and down backwards and forwards that once that final payment was made, I would cut up the card and cancel the account. However, since I’ve started reading personal finance books like a madwoman, I’ve decided to keep the card because I’ve had it since 2008 and have a great payment record. Cancelling that card would delete a portion of my (pristine) credit history and I’d like to keep that intact. I would not be surprised in the least if they charge an inactivity fee, so if that is the case then I will cancel the card.

One thing is for sure though, I am never shopping at Sears again.

Your dog should not eat better than you do.

Ever heard the expression “this looks like a dog’s lunch”? It connotes a certain hot mess of a meal, dog vom, basically. Dogs will happily eat anything.  Which is why I’m so upset by the recent upsurge in commercials implying you’re a horrible dog parent if you feed your dog anything but filet mignon and caviar.

The commercial I’m specifically thinking of is the one for a dog food brand called Buffalo Blue. The commercial opens with a group of women in a dog training class detailing the horror of checking the first ingredient in their dog’s food. Corn gluten, one sniffs. Chicken byproduct meal, says another, while rolling her eyes. The trainer tells them, Oh, you have to check to make sure you really know what you’re feeding your dog, implying that these women are clearly substandard pet owners because of their pet food choice (despite the fact that they’ve invested time and money into a training class. But I digress). Caesar has a similar commercial, where a woman and her dog, Maggie, seek out the best ingredients at a farmers market (she uses the phrase “We ask Joe about the best bread” which really, bitch, I would like to know how your dog participates in asking Joe about his bread and how fresh it is) and she only serves Maggie the best because she deserves the best. Cut to the shot of the Caesar food being served to Maggie and it looks a hell of a lot better than the cereal I ate for dinner last night. It has PASTA in it. BOW TIE FUCKING PASTA.

What. The. Fuck.

Salmon cakes: 1, Me: 0.

I apologize in advance, but this post requires some back story. I’ll get to that in a second, but let me just also preface this post with the fact that I don’t do well with general cooking guttage. There was the thanksgiving incident of 2010 in which I decided I was going to cook my first turkey, but didn’t realize that you had to yank the insides out of it before cooking. Needless to say, there was a lot of screaming and yelling and squickiness, even while on the phone with my mom coaching me through the whole thing.

So, when I tell you that I decided to make salmon cakes from a book called “Best Recipes Ever”, you’re probably going to laugh.

The only reasonable response to Toddlers & Tiaras: A drinking game.

Want to make your Wednesday evenings ten times more entertaining? Want to make yourself feel better about the fact you’re watching TLC? Well, do I have the solution for you.

Behold, the Toddlers & Tiaras drinking game. Make sure you have a large drink and do NOT attempt during a T&T marathon. You have been warned.

Bridezillas? No way.

Coffeemaker Broken? Plug it in, idiot.

Recently, I dug out my coffeemaker’s instruction manual so I could find how to clean it properly. The troubleshooting guide is fucking priceless, so I thought I’d reproduce it here.

Problem: the on light does not light up

Possible cause: the appliance is unplugged. Solution? Plug unit in.

Possible cause 2: there’s a power outage. Solution? Wait for power to be restored.

But wait, there’s more!

Update Deux! Dear Sears: You Suck

I moved recently, and have decided to do a series on decorating my cozy (500 sq ft) apartment. However, I have a story from the move itself that I need to get out of the way first.

Sears Canada and I haven’t been getting along over the past couple of years. First, I bought towels from them that disintegrated in my washer no matter what cycle I used (I even exchanged them, thinking it was just a bad batch. Nope, the same thing happened again). The next incident was when I wanted to send my mother flowers for her birthday, and selected a beautiful bouquet from Sears Flower Delivery. My momma, elated, sent me a picture of her with the flowers. That was when I hit the roof. The flowers she had were nothing like the ones I’d selected from the website. And, despite having a 100% satisfaction guarantee, it took me threatening Sears that I would call MasterCard and dispute the charge before they refunded my money.

Why do I keep going back to Sears, you ask? Well, I really wanted a new bed and I have a Sears MasterCard. Therefore, I could get the bed (with a frame and everything! Real Big Girl shit) and defer the payment until a year from now. Ta-da!

I went in on July 3rd and ordered a mattress, foundation, headboard, footboard, and rails. I scheduled the delivery for August 20th and toodled on my merry way. Little did I know, Sears would fuck up numerous times on this bed and I would end up swearing off them forever. Full story after the cut!

Budgets, rewards, and cash, oh my!

I am obsessed with reading personal finance blogs and articles. I admit it, I’m a junkie. I think I’d like to get into some personal finance stuff on the blog here, but I don’t want to sound like an overprivileged asshole. Actually, I know I’m going to sound like that at some point or another, so I apologize in advance.

I love watching Til Debt do us Part. Gail Vaz-Oxlade is my hero; she doesn’t take any bull from anyone and (most of the time) whips people into financial shape. Rich Bride, Poor Bride is another favourite of mine (and Bridezillas of course, but we don’t get that here) because it never ceases to amaze me a) how much people are willing to put themselves into debt for a wedding and b) what kind of assholes are hitching their wagons together these days. $70,000 on a wedding? $6,000 on two dresses because you absolutely MUST have a reception dress? The wedding industrial complex is sneaky and mesmerizing, but that’s another post altogether.

I have enough stories for this blog without a work diatribe tag.

Not many people know about my blog. I don’t know who even reads it on a regular basis (hopefully nobody, since I don’t even post on a regular basis). I have entrusted the URL to a select few. So, if you’re reading this, you are one of the chosen ones. Except if you’re here to bitch that the Spence diamonds Hercules Knot doesn’t look like balls and I’m just a feminazi bonerkiller. Then you can GTFO. It DOES look like balls and I am NOT a bonerkiller!

Ahem.

That ain’t quite right…

Now, I apologize for not documenting this earlier because now the details are going to be REALLY fuzzy. It’s not like they were fresh when I started the freaking blog, but it’s been awhile, and things are fading fast.

Anyways, so back when I lived in this house, I shared a bathroom with one of the roommates (there were four of us on the main floor – two bathrooms, two bedrooms). She was into photography and put pictures up on her wall that she’d taken (at 11:00 at night, mind you), and that’s cool. I like photos, I’m a bit of a shutterbug myself. What wasn’t was the fact that in the bathroom, there was a framed picture of her and her parents on her side of the sink. Yeah. I’m just going to give you a second with that.