Quirk can kiss my dimpled white ass

Seriously.  I find dealership service centers to be immoral on a good day.  At times, criminal even.  Below is the letter I fired off to GM, the Better Business Bureau, and the dealership itself.  This reminds me of the Best Buy clusterfuck… dear lord, I am so exhausted.


To Whom It May Concern:

I am writing to express my dissatisfaction with the service provided to my Saturn vehicle by GM/Chevrolet. This service, or lack thereof, has cost me money and threatens my safety and well-being, as I am not currently driving a safe vehicle.

Here is what happened:

1) In June 2009, I purchased a 2008 Saturn Astra. The vehicle was brand new with 14 miles on it.

2) In 2011, my horn stopped working. On July 29, 2011 I brought my car to Quirk Chevrolet in Manchester, NH – the local GM branch that was servicing Saturn vehicles. They informed me that there was a technical service bulletin for this vehicle, and “fixed” the horn free of charge. According to the invoice, the bulletin doc id# was 2551417. (I have not yet been able to locate this bulletin id or its description anywhere online.)

3) Despite the “service” I received, I continued to periodically have issues with the horn, as well as the radio controls located on the steering wheel. I was reluctant to bring it back to Quirk because, when I called to ask about the problem, I was told that I would be charged a diagnostic fee until they could determine if it was the “exact same issue” I had before. Quirk’s diagnostic fee is $95 – a price I could not afford to take a chance on.

4) I noticed that, when the horn did not work, it correlated with the radio volume control on the steering wheel (right hand side) not working. If I tried to raise the volume and could not, I immediately knew the horn was not functioning.

5) At the start of this year, the horn (and volume control) ceased to work at all. I knew I could not put it off any longer. (Unfortunately, my mechanic was unable to do the work. He indicated that he thought it was a problem with the transmission between the horn signal and the modem of my vehicle. An idea that Quirk NEVER brought up, btw.) I went back to Quirk.

6) On March 8, 2014, I went to Quirk’s service center. I explained the situation, including the detail that when the volume control did not work, neither did the horn. I paid a $95 diagnostic fee, and they looked at my car for over 3 hours. I was told by my liaison, Fred, that I needed a switch in my steering wheel. I then paid another $54.98 for the “switch”. I had to wait for the part to arrive, so it was not until March 22, 2014 that my car was “fixed”. On that day, I paid another $66.50 for labor. Total cost to me was $216.48.

7) The very next day (Sunday), I drove to the grocery store. I tried to raise the volume on the radio and it did not work. Neither did my horn. I called Quirk the following Monday and was told to bring it back.

8) I brought it back in on March 28, 2014 and that is when I discovered, from talking with Fred, that the “switch” they replaced was for the radio control only. They did not do any repair to fix the horn because the horn worked when they looked at it. Fred also tried to charge me another $95 to look at my car again. I told him that I was not paying that amount because they obviously had not fixed the problem that I originally brought my car in there for. Quirk was unable to do anything at this time because, once again, the horn was working.

9) On April 22, 2014, my horn was not working (again). I immediately drove it to Quirk. Unfortunately, it started working on the way there. Once again, they could do nothing. But I was told that they would research service bulletins, etc. I am not sure why they did not do this from the beginning. I told them this was important, as it is a safety hazard. I have no idea when my horn will or won’t work!

10) I still have not heard from Fred or anyone else at Quirk.

At this point, I am very upset. I paid over $200 to have a “switch” replaced that I probably did not need. I say that because the radio control STILL does not periodically work. THE SAME EXACT PROBLEMS WITH THE HORN AND THE RADIO STILL EXIST.

The horn in my vehicle still periodically does not work. And I do not have time to drive to Quirk every time it happens. I have a job. Where I need to make money to pay for repairs I don’t need, evidently.

I am extremely disappointed with the fact that Quirk is unable to help me and seems unwilling to help. I am upset that my safety is at risk because Quirk was too lazy to look up technical service bulletins (I recently found one poking around on my own – SB-10276 indicates a problem with loose wiring in the Saturn Astra that could cause the horn to periodically not function properly). I am horrified I’ve had to shell out as much money as I have for a repair I most likely did not need. I am saddened that it is just this type of scenario that makes me despise dealership service centers. I can assure you, I will never set foot there again.

The exception would be if 1) you arranged for me to be refunded the money I have spent that I clearly did not need to spend because nothing has been fixed, and 2) you promised me the problem WOULD BE FIXED PERMANENTLY.

I recommend that you train your service staff to be more thorough and to care more about the safety of your customers.


THIS BITCH (no, I signed my real name)




Seriously, scammers? Don’t bother calling me.


This is a new one…


Caller: May I speak with the person who would be responsible for using the computer in the household?

Me: That would be me.

Caller: I’m calling from Microsoft Office business (blah blah) and your computer has been sending error messages.

Me: Really?  So, Microsoft has been getting error messages from my computer?

Caller: Yes.  You will need to go and make sure your computer is on.  It has been receiving viruses.

Me: So, you have been getting these messages from my Microsoft Office applications?

Caller: Yes, I am calling from Microsoft Office services and we have been receiving these warnings.

Me: Just to be clear, you are getting these error messages from the Microsoft tools on my computer?

Caller: Yes.  Your computer has been breached and we need to act fast.

Me: You do know that I don’t have Microsoft on my computer, right?



Do people actually fall for this shit?


I’m not funny and I think I scare people.

When it comes to men, I have a “type”.  That type is typically pasty white (from being inside a lot), pudgy (perhaps from not being outside that much), intelligent, and cuttingly sarcastic.  And by “intelligent” I mean freakishly so.  And by “cuttingly sarcastic”, I mean he is sometimes offensive and makes people cry.

I know.  It seems very specific.  I have a very specific type.

I also have a thing for gingers (if you’ve never heard the term, it’s red-haired men).

You don’t have to tell me I have narrowed down my dating pool significantly with all these specifics.  This is evidenced by the lack of dates I am going on.


I get very excited when I see famous people who fit most or all of these criteria.  Philip Seymour Hoffman is one of them.  I don’t know if he is cuttingly sarcastic, but many of his roles require this trait so I can easily transpose it onto him.  I love this man.  I find him endlessly attractive.  I have always secretly loved Danny Bonaduce, but he lacks any modicum of decency, so he’s out.  Kevin McKidd is absolutely dreamy, but I see no trace of sarcasm in him.  And Seth Green?  Oh my gosh, I have loved him for ages.  He’s married to a super hot model/actress but I don’t hold that against him.  He is fantastically talented.


And then there is Louis CK.  This man is brilliantly funny.  His latest TV show “Louie” is, at times, very funny.  But mostly it is cringe-inducing awkward.  Which makes it funny.  You know?

Anyway, in another move I can file under “shit I do that makes me look like a crazy mofo“, I sent Louis CK a message.  It stated:


“I totally missed the boat on getting tickets to one of the nine hundred shows you’re doing in Boston. I also missed out on the one in Portland, ME. I basically suck at life.
I have you seen you before a few times and I am hoping this carries me through the depression that I am most likely going to fall into because of my inability to pay attention to shit.
I live in southern NH, though, so if you want to hang out and have coffee while you’re around, let me know. I have a thing for gingers (it’s true), but I’d leave it at just coffee.”


Really?  Really, Heather?

Yes, really.  And in my unrealistic fantasy, Louis CK actually takes me up on my offer, and then he and I become the best of friends.  My new best friend Louis comes with me to parties and events and some of his new jokes are about our adventures together.

And while I know this is unrealistic, some strange part of me still thinks it might happen.  Because if I can’t imagine a non-existing friendship with Louis CK, then my life is OVER.


I need a job.  Soon.  I have way too much time on my hands.


O Chocolat (or…why I am no longer allowed to eat Lindt balls)

Last week, I went to Kittery, ME with a friend.  I mainly wanted to go to Crate & Barrel.  And I wanted to go there for, of all things, dish towels and pet food bowls.

I know, right?  It’s amazing what being bored will spur you to do.


We made a stop at the Lindt chocolate store. (YUMMY.)

I was restrained. I picked out a few single pieces and paid for them.  While I waited for my friend to make her purchase, I thought…and then said out loud, “hey, mine are paid for, which means I can eat one RIGHT NOW”.  So, I did.

Remember Augustus Gloop in the original movie when his mother is all “slow down Augustus!”?  That may or may not have been me.


And as is frequently the case when you have a piece of chocolate with a hard shell (and a yummy creamy center…creeeeeeamy……..) bits of the shell flew off when I bit into it.  And as is frequently the case when you have a large rack, a piece of chocolate landed between my boobs.

I am accustomed to this and basically have no shame, so I fished it out and flicked it on the floor.  I had a tank top on under another shirt so I tried to look down my shirt for any other stray pieces without looking too sleazy.  (Mission accomplished!  I think.  The guy shopping in the store may have thought otherwise.)


After a little bit we went to a seafood place for dinner.  I hit the ladies room (had to pee, my friends!).  And when I lifted up my tank top to button my pants after I was done, there was a big brown smear on my belly.  A LARGE BROWN SMEAR ACROSS MY BELLY.

I kid you not…I swear on my life…as God is my witness…THIS is how the next .05 seconds went inside my head (bear in mind that thoughts are heavily influenced by situation and MY situation was a stall and a toilet):

“How did I get poop on my belly?????….Wait, I didn’t poop…..I KNEW more chocolate fell down my tank top!!!”


Once I figured out what really happened, I had to scrape it off (twas in a stall, remember?).  But, really?  POOP??  What.  The.  Hell.


Believe me when I say there is no sight more sad than a middle aged woman in a bathroom stall at Weathervane scraping chocolate that had melted (and then dried) off her belly.

Well, maybe one that’s more sad –   that same woman sitting down to tell the world about how she at first thought it was poop.


Mixing up my phrases and whatnot…and being a douche.

Last night, I went to Barnes & Noble (my mecca) with a friend.  When we arrived, we had a couple of choices for parking, and we decided that we would take “the pull through” spot (the spot that you pull through to from the space behind it so that you are facing out of the spot – ready to go).

And the conversation actually went like that – “wanna take that one or the pull through?”


we both said that “the pull through” sounded like it could be a sexual euphemism of some sort.

And the conversation went like this:

Me: “It sounds like something dirty.”

Friend: “I know!”

Me: “You know, it sounds like you’re saying something like….fruit salad.”


Fruit salad.




And my friend rolled with it (mainly because she had no fucking clue what I was talking about) and laughed and said, “yeah, you’re right.”


But, then I thought…what the fuck is “fruit salad” a euphemism for?

Answer: It’s not a euphemism for anything.  (Well, not that I am aware of anyway.)


Then it dawned on me.  And I said, “Nope, sorry.  I am mixing up my euphemisms.”

I then explained to my friend that what I meant to say was “tossing the salad“.  And I mixed that up with another colorful euphemism – “the fruit cup“.


Silly me.


We laughed and 3 1/2 minutes later, still giddy from all the weird euphemisms, we were in the bookstore and looking at magazines.  My friend looked at an entertainment magazine featuring The Hunger Games and I looked at a cerebral pompous film critique magazine (yes, I bought it), and an Asian gentleman was on his blue tooth looking at magazines near the floor.  We started discussing the upcoming Hunger Games film, at which point the Asian gentleman looked up, gestured toward my friend, said, “Nice [something in a heavy Asian accent]”, and then walked away.


My friend looked at me and said, “What did he just say?”

I looked at her and, with all the solemnity I could muster, whispered, “He said ‘nice tits‘”.

Her face went blank for a second before she realized I was being a shit and said, “No, he did not!”

I said, “You don’t know that.  He might have said nice tits.  He may have even asked for a fruit salad.”


12 Days of Unemployment

I wish I could say that since I was laid off my life was full of excitement and an endless parade of men knocking on my door offering to rub my feet and watch Hoarders with me.

But, alas, this is not the case.

Instead, my life is relatively boring and full of an endless parade of my cats (all 2 of them) licking their asses in front of me.


I hope I find a job soon.


I be smaht.

So (for anyone who cares), I have a college degree.  I have a BA in Sociology.  You’re probably thinking, “Whoop-de-fucking-doo”, but I do have a point so bear with me.

I am glad I have a degree.  I don’t agree with people who think they are not useful if you don’t get a job in the field you studied.  I think the wherewithal it takes to get a degree says something about an individual’s ability to be successful in life.  Forget the job stuff.  If you hang in and do the work and walk away with a degree, then you have proven you can stick with terrible tasks to achieve a goal.

Nevertheless, I sometimes wonder how much you retain from college as life goes on.  For example, today I found these two college papers in some boxes in storage…


In case you can’t read it, the above paper is called “Ain’t No Makin’ It – Leveled Aspirations in a Low-Income Neighborhood: Social Reproduction through Achievement Ideology”.


OK, the first part is a book title: Ain’t No Makin’ It – Leveled Aspirations in a Low-Income Neighborhood

The second part is (I assume) what I was learning in a class at the time.


Wait…  Was… I…SMART?


It almost sounds like I was, but, honestly, if you asked me right now what that meant, I’d have to ask you to repeat it seven times so I could absorb all the multi-syllabic words.

And this…

no clue

This paper is titled “Methodological Critique: Structural-Marxist Theory”.


“LMAO” does not begin to cover it because, when I read that title, it was sort of like reading a different language.  I am sure I knew what it meant then (didn’t I?), but now it seems like it would have had to be written by someone who sits in a coffee shop perusing her laptop on wifi and studying Nietzsche for fun.


Holy shit.  It’s amazing to think I once wrote shit like that.  Now I write shit like this blog.  Yay me.

well, I can


Random Thoughts – part two

It started here.

1. Would any normal person have a vanity plate that says “LESTAT” past 1994?

2. Many of my adult female friends have a crush on Justin Timberlake.  What makes this amusing is that the biggest reason they do is because he sang “Dick in a Box”.

3. Tyler Perry’s Star Trek







4. The best thing about the movie “You Again” was finding out at the end that John Oates is the same height as Betty White.


Random Thoughts – part one

1. This might be the winter I tackle “Anna Karenina”.  Hello, sad life, and welcome.

2. The whole woods around where I live smells like pot.  Why??  And why don’t I ever find any random joints lying around?

3. A ridiculously high percentage of the population is obese yet every guy on dating sites describes his body type as “athletic”.  I find this hard to believe.  Unless maybe they really are “athletic” and their inability to relax and chow down at an all-you-can-eat buffet has deterred mates (it would deter me).

4. I freely admit that I thought the Maroon 5 lyric was “move my jacket” rather than Moves Like Jagger.  I envisioned a chivalrous world where men moved their jackets aside for women to sit down.  I am so disappointed.

5. Microwaves that blow hot air out a vent in the side scare the bejesus out of me.  I confess I don’t stand in front of them because I am convinced they are frying my brain cells or ovaries (depending on where the microwave is positioned).

6. Lots of men on dating sites (and maybe women too… who the fuck knows) describe themselves as “down to earth”.  As if it is an appealing trait (or as if they even know what the hell that means).  I am looking for the guy who describes himself as “a crazy fucking nutbag with my head in the stratosphere…come find me on my spaceship, Uhura!”

7. Every time I am on a conference call and someone mentions that the project has a “lot of balls in the air”, I immediately picture a basket of testicles thrown skyward to create a rain of scrotum.


if FedEx had not left my package today, there would have been throat punching

Notice that when I spelled out would’ve in this blog title, it is “would have” and NOT “would of”.  Learn it and practice it, people-on-the-internet.

Carry on.


Right now, my rage with package carriers knows no bounds.  FedEx is today’s target, but it could just as easily have been UPS (next time you don’t leave my “signature waived”, refrigerated, $12,000 medication at my home, Herr UPS Man, be prepared to wear some protective gear at all times…just sayin’).

FedEx is not typically crappy about leaving packages.  But I have learned over time that leaving a package is up to the driver’s discretion.  This is based on where you live and the traffic in your mail area.


*Note: I live in a small town in New Hampshire, in a condo development that consists mainly of elderly people.  It is DAN-GER-OUS.


UPS is the one who normally makes my life hell.  Sometimes they leave a package, sometimes they don’t.  Sometimes they leave a slip for me to sign so they can leave it, sometimes they make me pick it up at their warehouse.  Mind you… these are all actions completely independent of what the shipper has asked for.  Even if there is no signature required, UPS has done all of these things.  And I am convinced they were done JUST TO FUCK WITH ME.

Until just recently, FedEx would always leave my packages (unless they were specifically signature required).  But their record of not pissing me off has been broken.


Here’s the timeline:

7/16 FedEx attempted to deliver to my home

7/18 I found out FedEx attempted to deliver to my home because I checked the tracking number online – NO SLIP WAS LEFT ON MY DOOR.

7/18 Called FedEx, asked why no slip was left (reply: “driver is not doing his job correctly”) and why the package was not left as there was no signature required (reply: “I have no idea”).  Was told a note would be sent to the driver to leave the package.  Was also told they would not be attempting to deliver again until 7/19 because DID YOU KNOW FEDEX DOES NOT ATTEMPT HOME DELIVERY ON MONDAYS?  NEITHER DID I.

7/19 Came home and no package.  And also, hey, whattaya know… NO MOTHERFUCKING SLIP ON MY DOOR.  I checked online, and, yep, they made another attempt.

7/19 I called FedEx AGAIN.  Only this time, when asked “how can I help you?”, I replied “I am not sure because I am very very angry right now”.


Note: This is my new tactic so that I avoid blasting some pee-0n phone person who not only does not care but really cannot do anything for me without going through seventeen supervisors.  Now, when I am especially peeved, I start right off by telling the person I am very angry and that they might as well cut to the chase and send me to a supervisor RIGHT NOW.


7/19 Relayed the story YET AGAIN.  Was told YET AGAIN that a note would be sent to the driver.  When I mentioned this had been done before and how could I possibly trust anything this person says when I have been oh-so-misled already, I was told “I don’t see a note in the record that you spoke with anyone”.


Ok, so my next comment to this person (in the most menacing voice I could muster) was: “what if my package is still not left tomorrow?”  The subtext was “if my package is not left tomorrow, I will indiscriminately throat punch every FedEx driver I see, guilty or not, until justice is served”.

This person’s reply, however, was: “Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it.”  (Unless it was the Throat Punching Bridge of America, I would not be crossing any bridge with FedEx.)

And then she said, “I will leave a note for the driver explaining what you just told me, and that there is no signature required, and would he please please please leave the package.”


Note: Oh, I get it.  The person I spoke to the day before must have only used two “please’s”.


Well, as you can tell from the title, my package was left.  I checked online.  I am not even home yet.  But I have been checking every hour since 7:30 this morning.  And it’s there.  I hope.

If you are a FedEx driver, you better hope so too.