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I don't know what it is about me, but as soon as a school project is due and all retail establishments are closed, I cause printers to malfunction. I've written about my wonderful experiences with Hewlett Packard in the past (like here and here), but after a month or so of not having a science project due, I had kind of forgotten about how it tends to break down at critical times. This time, though, it wasn't because of a science project -- it was for Spanish.

For this project, Zach had to write sentences that described each family member (I didn't read it very closely, but I'm assuming my page included things like "Mi mama es totalmente loco.") and also include a picture of each person. Things were going really well, until we attempted to print the pictures. Needless to say, the colors were not accurate.

Since I had noticed color inaccuracy issues over the last several weeks (but honestly, who cares if the school lunch menu has a slight blue tint to it?), I decided it was finally time to invest a few minutes and call Hewlett Packard to let them know that I was the proud owner of yet another piece of their manufactured shit. I looked online to find a customer service phone number, dialed it up and almost fell off my chair when a real, live human answered on the second ring, saying "Hello. This be Radharishnan. Thanks calling HP for your needs. How can you be helped?"

I explained my printer issues to him, he seemed genuinely empathetic to my frustrations and I was feeling optimistic about how things were going. Then he said that I had called a customer service location that was meant to help with corporate software issues, that he had no ability to help with my printing needs, here is the correct number for you to dial and oh yes, have a day that's nice.

I hung up, slightly confused, and then called the number he gave me. This is when things took a nasty turn and now my feelings can be best summed up as: I fucking hate Hewlett Packard, aka the worst company in existence who manufactures nothing but pieces of shit that are molded into things that slightly resemble printers.

Fortunately, a couple days after the phone call they sent me an online Customer Support Survey, which I was more than happy to complete.

Please select the language that you would like to take this survey in:

English, so that I can say "fuck you."

You have selected English for this survey.

Yeah, no shit.

The survey will take approximately 5 minutes to complete.

***sigh***

In which country do you currently reside?

The United States, unlike your customer service department.

Our records indicate that you recently contacted HP's Technical Support, where it was determined that your HP product is no longer supported under HP's warranty program. Is this correct?

Yes, it is, because your warranty program is designed for products that aren't pieces of shit. But unfortunately your products suck donkey ass.

Were you offered technical support for a fee to resolve your product issue?

Yes, I was. And I think after I was given the opportunity to pay $35 for someone to say "clean the printer heads" instead of "We're so sorry our printers suck, may I suggest, for free, that you clean the printer heads, which can only be done through the HP Device Manager on your computer," I maybe said something like "No thanks, stupid bitch."

Did you accept or decline the fee-based technical support offered?

Pretty sure that "no thanks, stupid bitch" means I will decline the opportunity to give you $35 for 12 seconds of advice.

Please indicate the main reason why you declined the fee-based technical support?

Maybe, just possibly, because I believe that a company shouldn't sell hunks of crap that are constructed with zero quality control just so that they can make more money when the customer has to deal with technical support.

Overall, how would you rate this most recent telephone support event from HP? Please use a scale from 0 to 10 where "10" means "Outstanding and "0" means "Unacceptable."

0 - which in this case, means holy shit was this a waste of my time and your company sucks. And oh yes, you are unacceptable.

Using the same scale from 0 to 10, please rate your satisfaction with the technical support agent who assisted you.

Not to sound redundant, but 0.

Thank you for taking the time to participate in this survey. Your responses are valuable to HP and will help improve service and support.

Yeah, right. And I'm going to become a vegetarian and start homeschooling my kids.

After I calmed down from the hellacious phone conversation with the clueless tech support agent who was incapable of using any common sense, I went online and found a solution to the malfunctioning printer issue myself. In the process, I came across several posts about Hewlett Packard's crappy service, including:

• By far the worst support EVER!
• I am fighting with the support in GOD-DAMNED India!
• I am disappointed that everything with your company is money.
• HP customer service is horrible.
• I will never buy another HP product ever!
• This is where they make their money since they have such a lousy product.
• The warranty is up by one day and they want $100 for support.
• Pathetic - those are the only words to describe HP's quality control and customer service.
• I have had the worst experience with HP.

Okay, so I'm not alone in my hatred for this company, which makes me happy. And the fact that the pictures were eventually printed with the correct colors made me happy. And listening to Zach quiz Zoe on Spanish words, and hearing her respond correctly, made me really happy. She knew that:

1. hola = hello
2. rojo = red
3. verde = green
4. adios = goodbye
5. vamos = let's go
6. uno = one
7. Dora the Explorer = moron
8. margarita = mom

Really, Let Me Help You

(Here's the deal: Over the weekend, Zach had to complete a 300-point science project. This project consisted of a tri-fold display, a rough draft and final draft of a paper that ended up being 24-pages long, was required to contain several key points of information and the results of an experiment related to his topic. He also needs to do a presentation of his project to the class, just in case they aren't able to read the paper or the information hanging on the tri-fold display. I also found out yesterday that there were a few out-of-the-ordinary items that needed to be sent to school with Charlie by, of course, today and Zoe, since she's almost six, decided it was okay to acquire the attitude of a 14-year-old-girl. Oh, and at 10:30 last night I was "helping" Zach color some hand-drawn dinosaurs with colored by pencils for a different science assignment/project, also due today. And I maybe drank just a little bit in an attempt to numb my pain, which would explain the interesting color-combinations that the ankylosaurus now has.

So...

I've decided to spare you the lovely details and specifics of the project drama that included piece-of-shit Hewlett Packard printers, frustration and general crankiness, and am instead re-posting a different but relevant blog entry from November 3, 2009. The items needed for school and the science project being completed are different, but are really the same, since it's all pretty much a pain in the ass.)

Really, Let Me Help You (originally posted 11/3/09).

I could say that I thoroughly enjoy spending quality time with my kids while helping them with school projects, watching their minds grow as they grasp new concepts, and patiently helping them assemble the final product, but that would be a lie. I know there are moms out there that always have an arsenal of toilet paper tubes, dowels, glitter, poster board, and styrofoam in every imaginable shape and size, eagerly waiting for the next project information sheet to come home and really, good for them. But I also know some moms that can't get through a poster or a marble run without tears, a couple snide remarks, and at least once saying "Fine. Make the thing yourself." I love these women.

Enough projects have come through my door this year to make me think that it's all a big prank and there is a hidden camera somewhere, documenting the drama. It started even before school began, with Zoe bringing home a giant sheet of brown paper from the kindergarten open house. After tracing her body, and with the assistance of her family, she was supposed to make a replica of herself. Doug's participation consisted of walking by and saying "Wow. It's really coming along." Charlie sat nearby and praised my cutting skills, and Zach approved the final results. Zoe drew her facial features and helped glue things on to her paper self. I admit that I pretty much did everything else, including making a construction paper replica of her Babolat tennis racquet.

Since that project has been turned in, I have dealt with making a diorama of the book "Ender's Game," a skit about the solar system, a large number of boys in my home to practice said skit, a pop can constellation model, a poster board turkey that needs feathers, buttons, "or whatever other crafty items are in your house," and yesterday Charlie informed me that he needs a jiggeh, coin pouch, pots, and a brown tattered tunic.

Since I had just thrown out my last tattered tunic, I headed to JoAnn Crafts to buy some brown flannel. And did you know that "jiggeh" is Korean for "basket?" Seriously, how was I supposed to know? After I checked Charlie off of my list of project punishments, I rinsed out an uncrushed pop can for Zach's constellation, and that's where the fun really begins.

I'd like to be able to say that he was very receptive to my suggestions and grateful for my assistance and willingness to work with felt, but again, that would be a lie. The cumulative number of eye rolls and exasperated sighs that took place in our kitchen last night should pretty much fill the quota until at least the end of next week.

Zach started the project by randomly taping some pictures onto the bare can, using pieces of Scotch tape that were, in my opinion, unnecessarily large.

"I really think that you should glue a piece of construction paper onto the can first, instead of later. It might look better that way." I was pretty proud of myself for saying this, instead of what I was thinking, which was "No way in hell can you turn that in looking like that if you want more than 5 points."

"Really, don't worry about it. I have it under control" he said, surveying his progress.

After a couple minutes of silence, he ended up deciding to remove the pictures and take my suggestion, but instead of paper, he wanted felt. At this point, he might as well have said "Hey mom. Let's rip off all of your fingernails, glue them onto the can, and I'll turn that in as my project." I hate working with felt because the little fibers get everywhere, and the only way to get felt to stick to things is to use a hot glue gun. So since I don't have a glue gun, I guess you're just going to have to use construction paper, because only loser moms have a...oh, what's this? How in the hell did I ever end up owning a glue gun?

After I picked myself up off of the floor, we proceeded to simultaneously bitch at each other while assembling the can o' fun. When he mentioned that he wanted some yellow streaks down the sides of the felt, I rummaged around and found some puffy fabric paint. After showing him how to use it by drawing perfectly even zig-zag lines on a scrap piece of felt, he took control of the paint pen and proceeded to drop uneven globs and streaks onto his can.

"Why does yours look like that and mine looks like crap?" he complained.

"Because I took a fabric paint class today while at JoAnn shopping for a tunic." He didn't seem to appreciate this answer very much.

"Honestly, like the glue gun, I don't even know how this fabric paint ended up in my possession. I guess I just have a natural talent." He wasn't very happy with this answer either, and he seemed to be enjoying my sarcasm as much as he was enjoying my help.

Believe it or not, the constellation can is finished on time and headed to junior high, the jiggeh/tunic/coin pouch/pots are at the elementary school, and now all that's left is a turkey in need of decoration. Since the instruction sheet specifically says that this should be a family project, I think I'll help Zoe cover it in beer bottle tops, used lime wedges, and some smudges of salsa for extra color. But I'll let her color the facial features all by herself.

A Note To The Middle Child

Dear Charlie,

Since you have officially started working on the 6th grade end-of-year biography project and we will be spending a lot of time talking about your life up to this point, I thought I should take a minute to let you know how proud I am of you. I know that I get mad, and yell, and scream, and sometimes you may think that my eyeballs are actually going to come shooting out of my head, but at the end of the day when you are asleep and I'm finally able to sit down with a drink in my hand, I am proud of you.

You were the easiest baby imaginable, then you were an easy-going toddler and even now, in your last year of elementary school, you're still a pretty great kid. Sure, we've had our moments of disagreement -- like that time you forged my signature on a missing assignment notice and I found the dreaded piece of paper in your backpack two weeks later -- but we always manage to work things out.

Since it seems that sometimes the bad moments are more memorable than the good and I'm not well known for dishing out excessive amounts of praise, consider this note as my way of being a dorky mom, embarassing you and saying "job well done" and "way to go."

• I love that even though you will never turn down a violent video game, you have a soft spot for every animal created and are still trying to convince me that we should get a cat, even though we're all allergic.
• I love that you never complain about wearing hand-me-downs.
• I love that you enjoy vacations on the beach as much as I do. I will never forget when our week in Jamaica came to an end, we got on the plane and as soon as the landing gear left the tarmac, you burst into tears.
• I love that you never get sick.
• I love watching you practice the piano while wearing tennis clothes or a baseball uniform.
• I love that you could care less about having your own iPod.
• Even though your sister yells at you almost more than me, I love that you will still voluntarily play with her and laugh at the funny things she does.
• I love that you never ask me to take a trip to hell so that you can attend "Turkey Bingo, Spring Fling" or any of the other school fundraisers.
• I know this makes me slightly irresponsible, but I love listening to you rip on the dorky things that other sixth grade kids do.
• And I love listening to you rip on their parents even more.
• I love that, until recently, you still believed in Santa Claus.

I know that there are times that I am frustrated and sometimes I wonder if you might be deaf, blind, clueless, illiterate and, even though you're standing upright, asleep, but I am also constantly impressed with your intelligence, athleticism, musical ability and generosity.

There are only about three months left in this school year and then you will be headed to the junior high with your brother. Before September arrives, though, there are three things I can guarantee for the summer vacation:

1. We're going to be spending a lot of time at the pool.
2. At some point, but hopefully not everyday, I'll yell.
3. I love you.

As far as the biography project goes, let me know if you want to include this picture since it seems to sum up your personality better than any of the others I found: