All of our recent financial crapfest has forced us to not only live without major utilities (phone, internet), but it's forcing us to totally reevaluate our current utilities. We paid the necessary money to have our internet/cable turned back on. However, when it came to the phone company, we are having such a beef with them that we just called and completely cancelled our land line. We'd decided to say Fuck It to local phone company monopolies and go completely cellular like we had once before many years ago.
So last night we were all excited because we signed up for T-Mobile service and had a wonderfully cheap and easy 1-year contract instead of that massive hidden-fee-agenda-of-the-devil crap we had with Verizon years ago. We even got a handy-dandy little Motorola flip phone with all sorts of coolness about it. Excitement and relief were in the air again.
Then we got it home. Sure, it worked in the mall just fine. It (barely) worked in the car, but it did work. This morning, with the phone fully charged and ready to go, we have now discovered that we have absolutely no fucking reception in our own condo. Now, why this is pissing me off so damn much, I don't know. It could be that this is now our only source of communication with the outside world and I've waited for nearly 4 weeks to finally have a phone again. Or it could just be a nasty cocktail of hormones and my natural temperament.
I've accepted that my patience level is always hovering somewhere around -5 anyway, so I know and understand that I will never be like J. - Mr. Patience of a Saint- in situations like this. Whereas when I am ready to throw a brand new phone out the window and scream with joy when it smashes to smithereens in the parking lot below, J. just kind of sighs and says, "Okay. I talked to the girl and we can get an antenna booster or she said we could come and exchange it for a Nokia or something else," and then just walks away with that ever-patient look on his face, like everything is still okay with the world. Meanwhile, I am left standing in the middle of our living room with my jaw open while wildly waving a cell phone in my hands that has no signal. "But.. but... it doesn't work! Aren't you furious?!" Nothing. This man never gets mad. Ever. Sometimes that's enough to make me want to kill him right there. But in the end, we still end up doing the calm thing and I am the only one who wants to sit in the car and cry about it all damn day. Why will men never understand the importance of Mutual Bitch Therapy?
Everyone wants to know why actor couples never stay together. They say that it's distance and time and blah blah blah.. but they're all full of shit. The truth is that actors are a dramatic and impatient bunch and when paired up with other actors, it just turns into a combustible nightmare. Though I haven't stepped foot on a stage in years, I know I will always have a drama queen's patience. That is why I stopped dating actors and artists years ago. It's just too much for my blood pressure. Of course, being with someone who never gets angry is probably just going to give me night sweats and anxiety attacks. Either way, I will still get the better drugs. Pick your battles, Staz... pick your battles.
Update: After a chaotic and angry evening dealing with too many insane shoppers on the road and too little phone service here at the condo, we finally just went back to the mall and exchanged the Motorola phone for a much nicer Nokia. Not only is the quality better and the menus/buttons easier to use and understand, but it was actually $10 cheaper. Score! We still don't have the best signal inside our condo, but at least there's a signal. With that last snazzy but useless paperweight flip-phone, we had to sit next to the office window while it was open in order to talk to someone. Plus, we now have downloadable ringtones. Oh hell yeah, baby. Watch out.