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December 30, 2006

Diet poem- not by me though. More on this topic later.

It Was the Diet After Christmas
- Author Unknown

T'was the day after Christmas, and all through the house

Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.

The cookies I'd nibbled, the eggnog I'd taste
At the holiday parties had gone to my waist.

When I got on the scales there arose such a number!

When I walked to the store (less a walk than a lumber).

I'd remember the marvelous meals I'd prepared;
The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared,

The wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese

And the way I'd never said, "No thank you, please."

As I dressed myself in my husband's old shirt

And prepared once again to do battle with dirt---

I said to myself, as I only can
"You can't spend a winter disguised as a man!"
So--away with the last of the sour cream dip,
Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip

Every last bit of food that I like must be banished
"Till all the additional ounces have vanished.
I won't have a cookie--not even a lick.
I'll want only to chew on a long celery stick.

I won't have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie,
I'll munch on a carrot and quietly cry.
I'm hungry, I'm lonesome, and life is a bore---
But isn't that what January is for?

Unable to giggle, no longer a riot.
Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet!

December 29, 2006

How I Survived the MLM Stalker

The MLM Stalker

Recently a MLM salesperson for Mannatech accosted me in a Kirkland's and then followed me to the mall parking lot, irresistably lured by my portable liquid oxygen machine swinging from my shoulder. I had a mental picture of their sales force following around people in wheelchairs, old folks with canes, anybody with a body part in a cast or with a conspicuous bandage, maybe lurking outside hospitals, doctor's offices and the local all-you-can-eat buffet diner.

With visions of an easy sell twinkling in her eyes, she praised their latest product as a panacea for everything from cancer to headaches, pointedly asking me what my particular health problem was - she'd never even heard of it by the way (COPD, Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease). There I am with the car window rolled down, trying to escape this person who is pressing two tapes into my hand. I'd previously been stupid enough, before she got deep into her spiel, to give her my email and phone number so now I was in some way obligated (I never figured out how) to continue this little scenario out to the bitter, inevitable end.

Before I know it she's at my house with a DVD and a CD. Dammit, now I'm trapped. I agree to watch them and do. I can't help but notice that the music plays continually and loudly in the background of the movie but there are a hell of a lot of edits in the testimonials covered by the music. Then there's the conundrum of famous doctors support this product but most doctors don't know anything about the science of the glyconutrition yet. Huh? Red flag number fifty goes up.

And when I try pulling up info on the "science of glyconutrition" I keep getting disguised ads for Mannatech and no information really on the "science" that's supposed to be involved.

I finally throw caution to the winds and toss "MLM" into Google and up comes QuackWatch. And guess who's listed there as a company to watch out for? You guessed it, baby.

Lesson learned- don't trust MLM stalkers, and watch out for Google too! Now I have to worry about the stalker returning. At least I gave the materials back to her, but I could tell she was pissed off. May have to put a garlic wreath on the door to keep her away...

It Pays to Complain: National "Do Not Call" Registry Works!

You know this scenario: You sit down to a fine, lovingly-prepared steak dinner, your first in weeks of chicken and fish, eagerly anticipated and salivated-over. Your knife and fork stand poised over that delectable morsel cut from the soft side of the T-bone, and this happens- the phone rings.

What if it's work and the server crashed? Or what if it's the baby-sitter and she's crashed? Or any of a dozen other terrifying possibilities. So you put down said knife and fork and answer the damned phone. And it's Bellsouth, trying to sell you internet service you cancelled over a year ago. And this is not the first or the second or indeed even the third time they've done this dastardly deed.

Forget that every time you tell them politely you are not interested. Forget that each time you tell them "I'm on the National "Do Not Call" Registry so please do not call again." Forget that they ignored that and merely changed their caller-id to show 'Out of Area' instead of the telemarketer's number in Texas or wherever they used before you told them about the NDNCR. Forget that the telemarketer laughs that off and tries to continue with their marketing script until you hang up on them.

Forget all that until you get really, totally and completely pissed off. Then sic the FCC on their sorry asses.

Businesses don't like that because they get fined; it gets them in the pocketbook and the PR book. A dissatisfied customer tells many others, like now. So how to stop the madness? Keep some basic records. Date of calls, telemarketer's name, telephone number, company name they're plugging. If they're using 'Out of Area' on the caller id, note that as well (it's against the rules to do so). Then complain.

I thought, "Well that's that, another wasted email. " But I got a surprise about ten days later.

Bellsouth was on the horn, calling me to say that they had removed me (magically!) from their telemarketing lists and that it would take a few days for that to take effect. I have to say that our government really kept the ball running on this one. And I'm one grateful citizen. Now I can sit down to enjoy that juicy steak in peace, that is if the server doesn't crash.