Regardless of their size and popularity, when I sent my letter, the president of the company took the time to contact me, both by phone and by email, apologized profusely for the issue, assured me that it would be handled, and insisted on sending me another basket as an apology, at their own expense. It was delivered by the courier service they've apparently used for more than a decade...a different one than was used on Crappy Behavior Day (from what I was told) and they also were incredible. They were polite, informative, and delivered the second basket after 8:00 p.m. the day after my letter was sent. Just amazing. I did find it quite amusing that the replacement basket? Was full of "Chill the F*ck Out" products for the bathroom. Items like bath salts, bath pillow, scented candle, bath gels, and a CD full of calming music, appropriately titled 'Serenity'. Heh. All designed to calm down the crazy lady. Whatever...it worked. And the basket it came in? I think that's my favorite part. It's a wire bathtub. Just adorable. Here's a link to the basket, in case YOU feel the need to calm someone the f*ck down.

Speaking of calming down, remember years ago when people used to say "Take a Valium" or "Take a Chill Pill"? In more recent times, these phrases have been replaced with people saying "Take a Prozac" or, as in a book I'm reading now, "...reaches for another prozac" or "take a Paxil" and variations thereof and it is driving. ME. CRAZY. Dude. Please learn your pharmaceuticals. Prozac, Paxil, Zoloft, etc. are all antidepressants and each of them require the patient to take one pill a day every day for a minimum of 4 weeks before it has the desired effect...it's not like Valium or Xanax where you take one pill and, 20 minutes later, get near-immediate relief from your anxiety symptoms. Get it straight. And if you can't? Then say something else. Something like "WOW...SOME body needs to switch to DECAF, eh??" which is juuuust as effective and doesn't make you sound ignorant. Which is always the goal.

As I said, I'm reading a book right now. It's quite funny (incorrect Prozac reference aside) and is by Michael Thomas Ford and is titled "It's Not Mean If It's Funny" which is a GREAT motto. I bought this book about 5 years ago (or maybe George bought it for me...I don't remember) but I forgot about it. Found it again while going thru the kajillion books stacked up in every corner of our bedroom. Since it was starting to resemble a freakin' LIBRARY in there, I decided to finally suck it up and make a list of all the books and once for all put them online for sale. I don't know where yet...amazon.com has that "have one to sell?" program, and I did that for one book, but it seems that there are zillions of people also doing that and they apparently aren't interested in getting anything close to even half of what they spent on the books back. I don't get that. They're selling relatively new books for 50 cents. Dude. What's the point? If you're going to go that far, why not just donate the books to a local library? I plan to do that with the ones that don't sell. I could also try eBay, but eBay charges you a fee (albeit a small one) even if you don't sell. And I have roughly 100 books...that could get expensive. If any of you have suggestions for a better way, please email me. Including sending me the name of that book swap place. I used to use it all the time years ago when they were first getting off the ground, but I've since forgotten the name and URL. Thanks.

So while going through these many, many books, I realized that there were several I hadn't read or finished reading...and some I had NO recollection of even BUYING. And, I must admit, some I wondered about. As in "...WHY did I buy this? This doesn't look even remotely interesting." Oh...some of them I could understand...several were likely bought during my phase of wanting to seem oh-so-much-smarter than I was (am?) it was during that phase when I was reading the book about quantum physics and finally gave it up because I had to admit to myself that I was getting much more joy out of TELLING people I was reading a book on quantum theory or existentialism than out of the subject matter itself. Yes, I'm oh-so-proud to own up to my Kierkegaard ... Nietzsche ... Anaïs Nin ... Virginia Woolf phase. When mostly I just wanted to know what it was that all those college-folk were so up in arms about. I also wanted to make myself smarter (in addition to SEEMING smarter) because I had dropped out of high school (3 months before graduating, because I'm Just That Smart). I had my reasons...the guy who broke into my home and beat and raped me had his little high school minions following me around, physically roughing me up, bullying me, threatening me...I was a terrified, 17-year-old mess, so I ran away. Eventually he was arrested and sent to prison for a long, long time and I felt safe enough that I came home again. I promptly got my GED and began my life. Which, for my dumb ass, meant marriage, then pregnancy, then husband leaving during said pregnancy because I refused to get an abortion (GREAT man, let me tell ya) and shuffled me into single mom-hood and that reeeeeally doesn't lend itself to the college experience. I never once regretted the choice to have my child (and not have that asshole for a husband) nor did I regret not being a party girl. Hell, I had my son before I was able to have a drink, so either because of that or because I had at least SOME sense, I never felt it was a sacrifice. The only thing that bothered me was that mysterious life of college. Where all the knowledge is injected into your person...where you learn to be an adult, supposedly. Where you learn how to learn, I'd heard. It's all bullshit, really, but I didn't know that then. I didn't know that I'd end up smarter than my high school classmates (if their classmates.com profiles in all their misspelled glory are any indication) who graduated 'properly' and went on to college. That I'd make triple what many of them make, despite my lack of that coveted piece of paper. And yes, it was a hardship trying to get hired without said piece of paper, but I did it. I started out on the lowest of all totem poles...the secretarial pool. Yep, I went the receptionist route. I was a peon (who could type like the wind) paying my dues (in triplicate) for upwards of 15 years before the doors of life finally opened for me. But...I did it. I made coffee and picked up the dry cleaning for many a pompous ass. I even had one boss who had me juggle his many girlfriends by lying to them when they'd call, had me fire his non-english-speaking housekeepers who couldn't understand his need to have cabinets that weren't organized properly, and --the last straw-- asked me to run over to his house and MAKE his BED while he took one girlfriend to the airport as another girlfriend was flying in. And that was just one. So, yes, I paid my dues. And then some. And did all I could to improve my head. Yes, I still make some mistakes (as my ever-vigilant readers enjoy pointing out) but when you put it all into context...that I'm a high-school dropout with no college education who was a secretary for half her life...well...I don't seem so dumb. At least not to myself, which is what counts, yes? So...screw Kierkegaard.

Have you seen the relatively new Volkswagen ads? The ones where they show people inside a car speaking inane life-chatter and suddenly they are slammed into without warning? Yep, these are startling commercials and...effective. Also, they look pretty real so I tried to find info about them online to see if they were, in fact, real (even if they were staged 'real') accidents. Instead I found a message board full of people debating the commercials themselves. There were the people who were whining that there were so many black people as the drivers, implying racism and others who wailed that the ads made them relive previous accidents, causing panic attacks, nightmares, sobbing jags, etc. Jesus Christ. Professional victims, anyone? The other comments ranged from the idiotic "So...what they're REALLY saying is that if I buy a Jetta...I'll definitely crash at some point, right? How appealing" to the more appropriate praise for the advertising genius who came up with the concept. A few people argued that the VW execs were morons because the drivers in some of the commercials were distracted while driving, causing the accidents, and VW was promoting irresponsible behavior...rather than promoting smart driving skills. That, in essence, they're saying "Yo, Jack, ga'head n' be stupid...we've got your back." Sigh. Okay. So we should assume that all car dealers will give a driving and/or an IQ test to any and all who wish to purchase a car? We're to expect that nobody on the roads today are idiots who will pay more attention to their phones or friends or nose hair or radios? Please. Just as accidents happen...so will idiots to whom the act of driving is the LEAST of their priorities...a distraction that takes them away from their chatting and reading and eating and writing and doing their nails... who give driving their least focus and attention. Sad fact of life.

So whether you agree with the commercials or not...there is no denying the controversy. And controversy = people talking. Love it or hate it, more people are now aware of the company and its cars than were before these commercials. And that equals revenue. No such thing as bad publicity, if you will.

Personally, I love the ads. Sure, the first time I see the new ones, I'm startled as hell. And yes, I was in several accidents, several of them scary and none of them my fault, so I know what I'm talking about, but that's what I love about them. They're very real, very shocking and *drum roll please* memorable. Mission accomplished. It doesn't piss me off...it makes me thankful that a car company is more committed to my safety and/or that they're smart enough to speak to our concerns, if nothing else. That maybe if I'd had a car with side airbags, I wouldn't have been quite so injured...wouldn't continue to be scared every time I'm on the road and another car gets a little too close. Makes me thankful I had the front airbags I did have, saving my life when an ancient, demented old bag in her pajamas decided that the red lights, while pretty, didn't apply to her. I'm not foolish enough to believe that if I buy a Jetta, no accident will harm me. I just like the idea that car companies are trying to make said accidents LESS harmful. And I love new advertising that pushes the envelope and gets us talking.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes dramatically at the people crying that the ads curled them into the fetal position with shuddering fear...sent them into downward spiraling panic attacks and gave them nightmares. I know everyone's experiences are different, but...come ON. If you can't handle a 30 second television spot? Get off the couch and back into therapy, babe. Grow up and invest in some Paxil. (See how I used that correctly? Because clearly they need LONG-TERM assistance? Yeah. I = genius, too, I know.)

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