So, I’m sitting in front of the TV, taking a little study break and enjoying the fresh ocean air that is blowing in through the open back door, when in walks Benito…
…with a lizard in his mouth.

I squeal. Now, I am not a squeal-y woman, but for a lizard in my cat’s mouth in my livingroom, I’ll make an exception.

I go to grab the cat, hoping to put cat AND lizard outside in one swift move.
Cat, of course, drops the lizard.

It’s not dead.
It is, in fact, scurrying across the livingroom floor and diving under the bar.

Oh sure, it may be only 6 inches long in reality, but it’s looking like a friggin’ iguana by this point.

I’m now screaming like a 6 year old girl. I do the dance I thought was exclusively reserved for finding a mouse scurrying across the livingroom floor. Apparently it works for other species just fine.

In a fit of utter girliness, I call my husband. He’ll save me! He’ll know what to do! He’s big and brave and from this god-forsaken state, after all. He will protect me and make me safe.

He laughs at me.
Just like when we had our first earthquake out here.
I’m still not amused.

He does know what to do, but instead of rushing here to do it, he gives me the simple 5-step plan:
1. get towel
2. get flashlight
3. find lizard (use flashlight as it will be under something)
4. pick up lizard with towel over the hand (because alligator lizards bite and I have no idea if this is an alligator lizard or something else–how the hell am I supposed to tell the difference anyway–I’m from Ohio and lizards only live in zoos and the homes of failed heavy metal musicians, fer crissake)
5. dispose of lizard outside.

I suggest shooing the lizard into a container…with a very long stick…preferably from across the room. Husband says to forget it–they see that trick and never, ever go in the container.

He asks if he should stay on the phone. I tell him I need both hands, and hang up.

I decide to try the shooing method anyway. It’s still under the bar (I did get the flashlight) and it’s perfectly lined up to be shooed into one of the boxes from our move.
It avoids the box much better than it avoided the cat.

Damn.

It’s back under the bar, but now in the back corner.

I get a damn towel.
It’s not under the bar by the time I get back, 10 seconds later.

Damn.
Much mouse-sighted-type dancing ensues.

Then I see it. Behind the speaker. Clear shot.

So I follow his steps and do indeed, with much squealing, cursing, and half-mouse-dance-steps, manage to get the thing and take it outside.

The cat is crapped out on the floor looking at me like I’m nuts.

I need a drink.

I mentioned in my last Jeopardy! post that I was appealing my game because of the lousy Final Jeopardy clue writing. I sent the producers a letter explaining my case, and waited. Months later (January), I received a polite letter stating that they didn’t see any problem and there was nothing they would do about it.

Of course, I was upset. But I’m also not the sort of person to just give up so I sent them another polite-but-firm letter saying that I didn’t think they were hearing me. I explained the details again, and this time the show had already run so I also cited several responses from the Jeopardy! online forum, to support my position.

It was a good letter, but I thought it was still a longshot. After all, it is extremely rare for them to bring back non-winning contestants. And the months passed so I had just about given up hope of even hearing from them again at all. I tried to live with the satisfaction that I had played well and almost won.

Then, today, about an hour ago, Christopher called me. He said he just checked his cellphone voicemail and there was a message there from Maggie at Jeopardy!, looking for me. He said she said something about bringing me back on.

Holy shit.

So, of course I called her number immediately, and, of course, I got her voicemail. I left all the vital info on it and am now in waiting mode…just staring at my cell, willing it to ring.

There is certainly the possibility that she was just calling to say “you gave it a good shot, but you’re not getting back on, so give it up.” Christopher did say that the voicemail was static-y. But he also said that Maggie said she wanted to “talk to Leslie about coming back on the show,” which sounds fairly positive, maybe.

So, stay tuned…

UPDATE
Got the call. I’m going to be booked on the show tomorrow. Probably August 16th tape date. That’s less than 3 weeks to relearn everything. Eeek!

I’ve had a tough week. Lots of stress with the start of what we call Dell’Acqua-Polooza (the summer month-long visit of C’s eldest sister and kid, which requires about a billion family events), trying to finish unpacking and getting settled while trying to work, cat fights at 5am twice this week, and then a confrontation with said pain-in-the-ass sister, and, well, it’s just been unpleasant.

Today, however, has made for a fabulous change.

I had a great meeting with a client in Encinitas. So positive that I didn’t even mind the INSANE traffic on the 5 heading back. The fact he actually paid me on the spot didn’t hurt either.

Then, this afternoon, I had some free-ish time and thought I’d run to the store to pick up a couple of things. It’s a very short drive over there, and in the heat and (surprise!) humidity here, that was just as well.

So, I just got back from that grocery where (amongst other items) I bought some beer for Christopher. He’s had a tough week too and I thought he might enjoy a yummy beer after work. Diet be damned (okay, it is light beer).

I stacked all the items on the conveyor, and pushed my cart to the end while they got scanned. Suddenly, I noticed the items weren’t moving any more. I looked up, and saw that the girl working the check-out was looking at me oddly. In fact, she looked at me twice, thought for a good 10 seconds, then meekly asked to see my ID.

I couldn’t be more thrilled!!! Carded, less than a month before my 40th birthday.

And yes, I think I was in particularly “cute” mode–tanned, in a white stretchy tshirty-type shirt, an arm full of bangles, denim hip-hugging capris, flip-flops, and ponytail poking out from under my ever-present Padres cap (for driving), but wow…carded.

Of course, I know that just means I looked under 30 to the cashier (the rule at Vons is to card anyone who looks under 30), and she must have the vision of a comatose bat, but I’ll take it!!!

Yesterday, I sent this email to the head of marketing and the head of operations at Circuit City:

Dear Ms. Dias, et al:

Sincerely,
Leslie Burns-Dell’Acqua

After sending this I got an email from Ms. Dias’ assistant, Justin, giving me his direct phone number to call and discuss the issue. So, I spoke with Justin and he said he’d talk with the store and get back to me to see what they could do to make things right. “Hurray!” I thought, “Something will get done about this!”

This morning I get a call from him and he said that after speaking with the operations manager of that store, he couldn’t do anything more than their usual price-matching. No apology, no nothing.

In other words, he took the word of the guy who was trying to cover his ass rather than that of the customer. Did he even listen to the tape of the customer service call? I’m sure he didn’t, or he wouldn’t have been able to do nothing.

Un-friggin’-believable.

Of course, I’ll be sending a letter to the CEO of Circuit City, to let him know how disappointed I am with how they have handled this situation. I’m also putting the word out there–don’t give them your business. They obviously don’t give a damn about their customers.

What song are they using these days in their ads? “Just What I Needed” by The Cars. Guess they meant this part “I needed someone to bleed
Yeah, so bleed me.”