I'm just curious about how many people in life find true happiness in their lives, in their jobs, in their relationships? It seems to me that the world is taking a nasty spiral downwards and all us petty humans are unwillingly along for the ride. I've been unemployed for the past 10 months or so and I have to tell you, it's hard out there. No one wants to hire people for any creative gigs - the ones that I'm interested in - or if they do want to hire, it's for shit pay. They think that since everyone is looking for work, they can just drop the rate to barely existent and people will come running...sadly, they're right. When I realized all the hours and effort I put into being abused at those two-bit jobs, I decided to apply for a Temp Agency.
After I filled out the ridiculously easy quiz accompanying the application, I was told I was "over qualified" to work as a temp. What the hell is that supposed to mean? I think it's their polite way to say, "you're too smart and therefore we feel that you would most likely slack off in your work abilities to full fill the mundane duties of filing, fetching coffee, and answering phone. So, we'll just as soon not hire you then someone who is too stupid to know that life can be better than just being a golfer." You would think that anyone desperate enough to apply at a temp agency would in fact be willing to suck up their pride and work the jobs that they know are beneath them, that would be the whole reason they dressed up in their nice little business suits and walked out the door that morning, wouldn't it?
I thought that companies weren't allowed to discriminate, but I guess there isn't a "too smart" clause in the discrimination packet each corporation is given. I asked someone else who'd applied to a temp agency and they told me they'd been rejected as well. One of my friends who helps people find jobs confirmed my suspicions of the agency's hiring process and told me she'd help "dumb down" my resume so I might get hired in the future. Seriously, what kind of world are we living in where all the jobs for artistic people are starting to pay less then a McDonald's employee and if people of average or above average intelligence want to find a stable, but non-long term job, they have to pretend they're morons.
It's so frustrating to web search for jobs that you know are most likely only posted because of the government mandate that says "all jobs must be publicly posted", but in knowing this, you still send off your resume to cyber oblivion as the job you just applied for has probably been filled two days ago by the Head Executive's third cousin's niece. I feel like a hopeless romantic, someone that's pining for the unattainable and knowing that they are and will never achieve their hearts desire, when I apply for a job. Ok, maybe that's going a little overboard, but you know what I mean, you try and try and try and if you're lucky, after the 100th email you've sent, you get a little blip of an email (because these days, no one actually calls people anymore with important information - it has to be an email or "Facebook/Twitter official" to actually count for something) back and then you're hopefully for an interview, a 2nd interview, and a job. It's tiring man, just plan exhausting thinking about looking for work, let alone applying.
I wish it could be like back in the 40's when people just walked into businesses and asked to talk to a manager, or when references didn't count so much as your personal character or skill set. Now we have computers that have taken over for humans, the unemployment and welfare rate is skyrocketing and more then ever, people are wanting to work. The era of "stay at home parents" is dying, adding more bodies to the employment lines. It's definitely hectic out there, but hopefully soon, big changes will happen and everyone can be happy, at least for a little while. So, I'll leave you here with a note that I'm trying to be optimistic and that good luck has to eventually find me as I'm stocking up on the good karma points.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Friday, March 26, 2010
Puppy Love
My neighbor, Diana (aka "Little Di" as I call her because I know two Diana's) invited me to take her Mother's dog, Foxy, to the dog beach to get some exercise. We researched a couple of dog beaches around LA and discovered that Long Beach was actually closer and easier to drive to then the far, butt-fuck, Malibu (almost to Oxnard) beach. We headed out and made it to the beach in about 30 minutes, much to Foxy's excitement. Once on the sand, Diana's medium sized, fox-looking, mutt dog ran around in joy to be free from the "dreadful leash", but never actually strayed too far from us. We discovered that Foxy's a little bit of a wimp; would only go up to dogs smaller then her, mostly shit kickers, and bully them until one of the Chihuahua's got feed up and yapped back, causing Foxy to bolt away. Freaking wimp.
There was a supper cute French Mastiff that took a genuine liking to Foxy, but had her cowering behind Di and I instead of playing. (Wimp) Di tried to encourage Foxy to play with the Mastiff, but failed and then geared her towards the water, which just made her skittish, so Di gave up and hoped Foxy would just chase a dog bigger than a cat; Foxy wasn't having any of it...well, until Buddy came along. Buddy was a 105 pound, adorable brown eyed rottweiler that loved to sniff butts and lean against people to have his back rubbed. I've found that the bigger a dog is, the more they like to lend into humans, which can be a slightly scary thing if the dog weights more than you or accidentally steps on your toes moving in for a good pet.
Aside from Buddy's need to constantly sniff Foxy, he had a nasty habit of drooling thick white mucus all over his mouth and occasionally on top of his head as he shook his mouth in joy at being pet or seeing something he liked. This wouldn't have really bothered me too much if he didn't like to make a beeline with his mouth for my leg before turning at the last moment to press his body against said leg for a pet. I had to constantly dodge doggy drool, ewwww, because Buddy decided to take a particular liking to me. Petting is one thing, but drool is another.
As I was standing and talking with Di and Buddy's owner (I never caught his name), Buddy decided to come at me again for what I thought was going to be a rub, so I maneuvered out of his slobber range, when he stops and lifts his leg. I'd been too occupied with avoiding drool to notice he'd started to pee an inch from my foot. Luckily Di pointed out my misfortune at the same time I realized the evil dog had it in for me and I jumped out of piss range. Buddy's owner, after stopping his stifled laughter, informed me that this wasn't the first time Buddy's decided to "mark" a person. He said Buddy's peed on not many people in the past, but he thinks I was...he takes a pause to truly remember the number before telling me... Buddy's 11th victim. I wasn't sure if I was suppose to feel special that Buddy liked me enough to "mark" me or offended that I was his 11th love interest. If Buddy was a human and I was his 11th date, I might be slightly affronted.
After checking, and rechecking to see that all parts of me were pee free, Foxy and Buddy play some more and Di and Buddy's owner get back to talking. 5 minutes later, Buddy gets bored with Foxy and wanders over to a group of young women and their dogs. One of the women is sitting in a beach chair admiring the ocean when Buddy decides she's "special" as well, and pees right on her towel (which she had draped over her legs). Buddy's owner looks slightly embarrassed and says to us that he should go get his dog, when we all witness Buddy finish peeing and then kick up sand to cover his "marked" spot. Buddy's owner goes, "I don't know that dog," and slightly turns away from the scene. Me and Di are laughing as Di goes, "looks like you're not the only one for Buddy."
I guess not... but at least I'm 11th!
There was a supper cute French Mastiff that took a genuine liking to Foxy, but had her cowering behind Di and I instead of playing. (Wimp) Di tried to encourage Foxy to play with the Mastiff, but failed and then geared her towards the water, which just made her skittish, so Di gave up and hoped Foxy would just chase a dog bigger than a cat; Foxy wasn't having any of it...well, until Buddy came along. Buddy was a 105 pound, adorable brown eyed rottweiler that loved to sniff butts and lean against people to have his back rubbed. I've found that the bigger a dog is, the more they like to lend into humans, which can be a slightly scary thing if the dog weights more than you or accidentally steps on your toes moving in for a good pet.
Aside from Buddy's need to constantly sniff Foxy, he had a nasty habit of drooling thick white mucus all over his mouth and occasionally on top of his head as he shook his mouth in joy at being pet or seeing something he liked. This wouldn't have really bothered me too much if he didn't like to make a beeline with his mouth for my leg before turning at the last moment to press his body against said leg for a pet. I had to constantly dodge doggy drool, ewwww, because Buddy decided to take a particular liking to me. Petting is one thing, but drool is another.
As I was standing and talking with Di and Buddy's owner (I never caught his name), Buddy decided to come at me again for what I thought was going to be a rub, so I maneuvered out of his slobber range, when he stops and lifts his leg. I'd been too occupied with avoiding drool to notice he'd started to pee an inch from my foot. Luckily Di pointed out my misfortune at the same time I realized the evil dog had it in for me and I jumped out of piss range. Buddy's owner, after stopping his stifled laughter, informed me that this wasn't the first time Buddy's decided to "mark" a person. He said Buddy's peed on not many people in the past, but he thinks I was...he takes a pause to truly remember the number before telling me... Buddy's 11th victim. I wasn't sure if I was suppose to feel special that Buddy liked me enough to "mark" me or offended that I was his 11th love interest. If Buddy was a human and I was his 11th date, I might be slightly affronted.
After checking, and rechecking to see that all parts of me were pee free, Foxy and Buddy play some more and Di and Buddy's owner get back to talking. 5 minutes later, Buddy gets bored with Foxy and wanders over to a group of young women and their dogs. One of the women is sitting in a beach chair admiring the ocean when Buddy decides she's "special" as well, and pees right on her towel (which she had draped over her legs). Buddy's owner looks slightly embarrassed and says to us that he should go get his dog, when we all witness Buddy finish peeing and then kick up sand to cover his "marked" spot. Buddy's owner goes, "I don't know that dog," and slightly turns away from the scene. Me and Di are laughing as Di goes, "looks like you're not the only one for Buddy."
I guess not... but at least I'm 11th!
Thursday, March 25, 2010
More than one pick up at the Pharmacy
There's nothing quite like having someone stare at you randomly with a confused look on their face until they (or you) muster up the courage to ask, "do I know you?" (or in my case, "What?!") So, after my lovely adventure to the allergy doctor (I'm trying to figure out why I'm allergic to my house), I was laden down with prescriptions at CVS waiting for the next available pharmacist when the random older gentleman in front of me pipes up with, "I wasn't meaning to keep staring at you, but do I know you?" I happened to have been in one of my zone out moods and was more thinking about how horrible my swollen eyes looked in public then why this guy kept looking at me, but his comment got me to acknowledged him. He was a 40's white man in a plaid button up shirt with short, graying hair and brown eyes. Nothing remarkable stood out about him and in no way was he familiar to me - I'm usually pretty good with remembering faces, terrible with names, but good with faces. I didn't really feel up to the whole, "did you work here," or "have you ever been here," questions, so I just asked, "do you watch Showtime?" "Sometimes." This was promising and would solve all our problems real quick, "you ever watch a show called, 'I Can't Believe I'm Still Single'?" "Yeah," his eyes get real intense as he studies me for a few seconds and then goes, "You're the assistant, right?" Ugh, why do people have to assume I'm always the assistant? "Yeah, that's me." "I thought you looked familiar. Well it's really nice meeting you." He then goes on to ask about Eric, what happened to the show - I tell him we just finished season 3, where did we travel to this time - we stayed in New York only; "you know you were the mediary of the group", and so on until the merciful pharmacist finally called for the next person in line.
It's not that I don't like talking about the shows that I've worked on with people or being noticed for actually being in Still Single (this is the third time someone’s recognized me), but it's a little odd to have someone know that much about you and you don't know anything about them. Kind of a creepy stalker-ish feeling which makes me kind of feel bad for the people that I've worked with in the past and then met again sometime later, talking to them like old chums while they don't remember who I am and wonder how I know so much about them. But it is their own fault for not remembering me and getting creeped out because of their faulty memory, but in my case with Still Single, I don't actually know these people and therefore have a genuine fear for being creeped out.
Anyhow, I get called next for my prescriptions to be processed and while I'm asking about prices and generics, the man says good day and leaves. I find out I have to wait about 30 mins before I can pick up my medicine, so I entertain myself by browsing the aisles, greedily eating my yet-to-be-bought Cadbury mini eggs (the best chocolate that's unfortunately only sold at Easter), and reading some trashy entertainment magazine comparing Shiloh to Suri, like these poor kids need more attention. Can't the news focus on more important matters like the wars that our troops are fighting, the millions of homeless people in America, the poor kid that just went missing, or something that doesn't have to do with media hungry parents? I don't know, but is it just me or are Americans getting lacks in caring about current events, preferring to fill their heads with the Who's Who of Hollywood dating scene? Seriously people, there's more to the world then Hollywood.
Sorry, random tangent. So sitting in a hard plastic chair an hour later, my teeth were beginning to ache due to all the sugar I had munched on and I'd read my lovely magazine twice, nothing had changed - Shiloh still dresses like a boy and Suri wears $850 dresses to go shopping, when I figured it would be best to wait in the 10-person long, pharmacy pick-up line to see if my prescriptions were finished and they just hadn't called my name. The first thing that happens to me is that the lady behind me sneezes on me, which is slightly disgusting, but yea, I'm in a pharmacy line so it was bound to happen, and then semi apologizes by way of explaining she isn't sick, just had asthma. I have asthma and I don't really think that it causes a person to sneeze, but maybe it's a symptom I don't know about. I tell her it's ok (what am I suppose to do, yell at her and say use a handkerchief? There was already a guy in front of us that told some lady to ‘piss off’ as he cut the line since he heard his name called and the lady - who was about to be up at the counter - complained. One douche bag per store please.)
I turned back to watching the line move nowhere when I here, "you know, you should marry Eric." I look up to see my fan in the aisle over. "What?!" "You should marry him and then break up to get the alimony." This is the stupidest thing I've every heard. First, I have no intention of ever marrying Eric (sorry Eric if you're reading this), he's a great guy, but definitely not the guy for me, and second, why would I marry someone and then just divorce him? I'm not a person who cares much about money in the first place or fame and I don't think I would have achieved either of those things even if I had married Eric. "Um, no thanks. Eric and I are just friends." "But, you could get the alimony." "Yea, um, Eric doesn't have as much money as you probably think, and no, that would be weird." The guy ponders this for a bit while the rest of my line as taken notice of my new friend and I. I mean, if you were stuck in a long line that wasn't moving, wouldn't you ease drop on a strange conversation taking place beside you? I'm pretty sure half the people were wondering, "Who's Eric?" and the other half, while trying to figure out what we were talking about, might have been trying to figure out how this random guy just asks me a random question in a CVS and I don't bat an eyelash towards it's strange nature. "Well, you should think about it." "Thanks," I sarcastically reply. "It was nice to me you, bye," he waves and walks down the aisle and out of the store. I'm left with curious glances, but peace and quiet.
This little incident might be one of the reasons why I never, ever want to become famous. Yeah, you can have nice cars and a big house, but you get strange people coming up to you all the time and saying odd things - which is entertaining when you're bored in a CVS pharmacy line, but can cause problems if you're somewhere important or out with a person that doesn't like people inviting themselves into your inner circle. I also wouldn't ever want to have my privacy invaded. It's not like I do anything note-worthy, but it's nice to know that no one really knows what I do or how boring my life truly is. Somethings are best kept in the dark. Herein lies the end of my 3rd meet and greet story with a Still Single fan that I had to actually inform first that he was a fan.
It's not that I don't like talking about the shows that I've worked on with people or being noticed for actually being in Still Single (this is the third time someone’s recognized me), but it's a little odd to have someone know that much about you and you don't know anything about them. Kind of a creepy stalker-ish feeling which makes me kind of feel bad for the people that I've worked with in the past and then met again sometime later, talking to them like old chums while they don't remember who I am and wonder how I know so much about them. But it is their own fault for not remembering me and getting creeped out because of their faulty memory, but in my case with Still Single, I don't actually know these people and therefore have a genuine fear for being creeped out.
Anyhow, I get called next for my prescriptions to be processed and while I'm asking about prices and generics, the man says good day and leaves. I find out I have to wait about 30 mins before I can pick up my medicine, so I entertain myself by browsing the aisles, greedily eating my yet-to-be-bought Cadbury mini eggs (the best chocolate that's unfortunately only sold at Easter), and reading some trashy entertainment magazine comparing Shiloh to Suri, like these poor kids need more attention. Can't the news focus on more important matters like the wars that our troops are fighting, the millions of homeless people in America, the poor kid that just went missing, or something that doesn't have to do with media hungry parents? I don't know, but is it just me or are Americans getting lacks in caring about current events, preferring to fill their heads with the Who's Who of Hollywood dating scene? Seriously people, there's more to the world then Hollywood.
Sorry, random tangent. So sitting in a hard plastic chair an hour later, my teeth were beginning to ache due to all the sugar I had munched on and I'd read my lovely magazine twice, nothing had changed - Shiloh still dresses like a boy and Suri wears $850 dresses to go shopping, when I figured it would be best to wait in the 10-person long, pharmacy pick-up line to see if my prescriptions were finished and they just hadn't called my name. The first thing that happens to me is that the lady behind me sneezes on me, which is slightly disgusting, but yea, I'm in a pharmacy line so it was bound to happen, and then semi apologizes by way of explaining she isn't sick, just had asthma. I have asthma and I don't really think that it causes a person to sneeze, but maybe it's a symptom I don't know about. I tell her it's ok (what am I suppose to do, yell at her and say use a handkerchief? There was already a guy in front of us that told some lady to ‘piss off’ as he cut the line since he heard his name called and the lady - who was about to be up at the counter - complained. One douche bag per store please.)
I turned back to watching the line move nowhere when I here, "you know, you should marry Eric." I look up to see my fan in the aisle over. "What?!" "You should marry him and then break up to get the alimony." This is the stupidest thing I've every heard. First, I have no intention of ever marrying Eric (sorry Eric if you're reading this), he's a great guy, but definitely not the guy for me, and second, why would I marry someone and then just divorce him? I'm not a person who cares much about money in the first place or fame and I don't think I would have achieved either of those things even if I had married Eric. "Um, no thanks. Eric and I are just friends." "But, you could get the alimony." "Yea, um, Eric doesn't have as much money as you probably think, and no, that would be weird." The guy ponders this for a bit while the rest of my line as taken notice of my new friend and I. I mean, if you were stuck in a long line that wasn't moving, wouldn't you ease drop on a strange conversation taking place beside you? I'm pretty sure half the people were wondering, "Who's Eric?" and the other half, while trying to figure out what we were talking about, might have been trying to figure out how this random guy just asks me a random question in a CVS and I don't bat an eyelash towards it's strange nature. "Well, you should think about it." "Thanks," I sarcastically reply. "It was nice to me you, bye," he waves and walks down the aisle and out of the store. I'm left with curious glances, but peace and quiet.
This little incident might be one of the reasons why I never, ever want to become famous. Yeah, you can have nice cars and a big house, but you get strange people coming up to you all the time and saying odd things - which is entertaining when you're bored in a CVS pharmacy line, but can cause problems if you're somewhere important or out with a person that doesn't like people inviting themselves into your inner circle. I also wouldn't ever want to have my privacy invaded. It's not like I do anything note-worthy, but it's nice to know that no one really knows what I do or how boring my life truly is. Somethings are best kept in the dark. Herein lies the end of my 3rd meet and greet story with a Still Single fan that I had to actually inform first that he was a fan.
Monday, March 22, 2010
2009 tax season from hell
I feel the need to comment and bitch about how horrible my 2009 taxes were. If I had been able to use Turbotax like a normal person, I think I would have only had to pay the basic price of 70$ or so, but no, of course my taxes have to be completely complicated and retarded. Let me first start off by saying that instead of receiving six W-2's like I was suppose to, one decided not to come in the mail. Me, being the meticulous person that I am, decided to try and track down the missing W-2 so as not to get audited again (yep, in 2006 I was audited and let me tell you, it's not fun, it's costly, and really freaking annoying to deal with the paperwork and evil IRS. When they want their money, they get nasty. Anyhow...) by calling my Employer who gave me a phone number for the accounting firm and told me to call them. I called the firm, which lead me to a generic voicemail box after zero telephone rings - almost as if the number didn't exist. After two days of hearing nothing back from the accounting firm, I decided to drive by the offices (they were only a couple of miles away from my home). I had also called my Employer again to see if they had another phone number, but no, just the one.
After I pulled up to the firm's office, I knocked a few times, gaining no response, and then snooped around the perimeter to see if I could find anyone to talk to. Like a Peeping Tom, I looked through the windows and discovered that, aside from bad furniture taste, no one was home and maybe hadn't been for a while. There was a twin building next door with a "for lease" sign staked out front. I figured, "what the hell, I'll just call and see if it's for both buildings." Why did I have to be so thorough? The leasing Realtors (after figuring out I didn't want to buy the buildings) told me that the accounting firm packed up and left with no forwarding address or phone. They were in the wind, evil bastards. What I really want to know is if they were doing something illegal and when my Employer caught hold of it, they skipped town. It seems rather strange of them to not send out W-2 and then vanish. But who knows, speculation will get you nowhere.
The next thing I tried was to contact my employer and the IRS to ask what I could do about a missing W-2. The IRS, surprisingly, is quite apt at answering phones and people's questions in a timely and professional manner. They essentially said I had to fill out a substitute W-2 using my last pay stub. Luckily I had my last pay stub. So, herein lies all my problems (well, besides the missing W-2 and the sketchy accounting firm), the pay stub I used for my sub W-2 was not well liked by Turbo tax and therefore a troublemaker. Turbo tax told me that too much money was withheld from my social security wages and that I needed to contact the accounting firm to give me back the over drafted money and a new "corrected W-2" before I could continue and complete my tax forms. Hum, you think Turbo tax? Slight problem...it's a "substitute W-2" because the evil accounting firm didn't send me a real W-2 since they "supposedly vanished off the face of the planet" and now, apparently, they also stole money from me. Stupid, stupid automated program!
Anywho...I did a live chat/text thing with the Turbo tax people because when you call them it leads you to a retarded automated lady that is from a random and wrong tax department and hangs up on you if you don't give her the information she requires. You also have to fill out a survey to get the phone number in the first place. A complete waste of time and patience. So, the live chat dude says, "hi," to me and asks for all this personal info. I get a little freaked out that maybe he's a hacker and I don't know if he's who he says he is (it's been a long day and I was paranoid of everything), so I ask him to prove he's from Turbo tax and surprisingly he doesn't think I'm a freak (or at least doesn't IM back that I am) and proves he's who he says he is. I have to say, Turbo tax is a lovely program for people with normal taxes and their help is awesome. Too bad Mark, my Turbo Tax texting buddy, couldn't help me with my problem. He did however tell me to contact the IRS again to see if I'd properly fill out the sub W-2 form and to have a nice day.
The IRS, after transferring me to three people, told me to A.) fill out the Turbo tax form with what the IRS said was correct for the Social Security withholdings, but not what I had filled out on the sub W-2 with the information I had from my last pay stub (leading to my 2009 tax forms potentially being audited) or B.) Go to a tax professional and fill out a hard copy of the tax forms. I headed to H&R Block. On the phone they told me that normal people's taxes would cost about 50-100$ and that I would probably fall into the 150-180$ category. I figured that wasn't too high of a price to pay if everything was done correctly and they could just fix my stupid sub W-2 form problem. Plus a real person is better then automated people and machines.
At H&R Block I met with an extremely nice lady that sort of didn't understand my problem and after consulting the tax manual numerous times, started to type in a bunch of numbers on her computer into her tax program. Once her program excepted my janky substitute W-2 form with the wrong SS withhold amount, we went on to complete the rest of my taxes. We moved on to my list of deductions, which she ended up finding faults with and once, understanding why I had them, tried her best to find places to put them on the tax forms. After deductions, we discovered that not only did I have a messed up sub W-2 form, but one of my jobs put me down as working in North Carolina (which I had worked, but as a California resident, not a NC resident) therefore causing me to fill out more paperwork and make life difficult. This evil little addition of NC paperwork cost me 80$ and a headache. I don't even think my employer got a tax break from NC, so I don't know why they listed me as working there.
Finally, after we thought we'd filled everything out and printed up the materials to send out, my poor Tax lady discovered another 1099-G form for my Unemployment Insurance that got skipped. This in turn pretty much dropped me from getting a nice little sum of money refunded to barely skating by. It also fucked up the stupid NC state tax paper by deducting more money from my refund. I don't see how California unemployment insurance should reflect on NC, but somehow NC sees it as a valid way to swindle more money from me.
Once we triple checked that everything was completed correctly and with all parts, we went over the cost of H&R Block services and discovered they're sneaky little bastards that really know how to charge a pretty penny. Not only do you get charged per form you use, you get charged by the minute and per each time you access certain information. So in the end, my lovely taxes, that should have cost about 70$ on turbo tax ended up being 392$. I about had a shit fit. What the hell. I was gonna go to a friends tax person, but I didn't want to wait to see them and then I didn't figure that my taxes could possibly cost so much. I mean, whos taxes cost 400$ ever. My tax lady felt bad for me and gave me a 77$ off couple. Yeah, 315$, a steal!
So, at first I think I'm going to pay 150$ there abouts and then I think I'm gonna get a good amount of change refunded only to discover I get to pay a fortune to have a nominal fee refunded to me and I have to mail one of my forms in. Grrr, but as the Tax lady said, "at least we discovered the error now, otherwise you would have owned the IRS the incorrect refund amount". Yea, I guess there is a bright side.
All in all, I realize, a live tax person isn't necessarily better then Turbo tax if they don't understand entertainment deductions and when they forget W-2/1099G forms, but they are extremely nice to have in reaffirming that everything is completed correctly (after triple checking) and there to handle the IRS, if they decide to come knocking. 2009 taxes done, now on to 2010 taxes in 12 months using Turbo Tax.
After I pulled up to the firm's office, I knocked a few times, gaining no response, and then snooped around the perimeter to see if I could find anyone to talk to. Like a Peeping Tom, I looked through the windows and discovered that, aside from bad furniture taste, no one was home and maybe hadn't been for a while. There was a twin building next door with a "for lease" sign staked out front. I figured, "what the hell, I'll just call and see if it's for both buildings." Why did I have to be so thorough? The leasing Realtors (after figuring out I didn't want to buy the buildings) told me that the accounting firm packed up and left with no forwarding address or phone. They were in the wind, evil bastards. What I really want to know is if they were doing something illegal and when my Employer caught hold of it, they skipped town. It seems rather strange of them to not send out W-2 and then vanish. But who knows, speculation will get you nowhere.
The next thing I tried was to contact my employer and the IRS to ask what I could do about a missing W-2. The IRS, surprisingly, is quite apt at answering phones and people's questions in a timely and professional manner. They essentially said I had to fill out a substitute W-2 using my last pay stub. Luckily I had my last pay stub. So, herein lies all my problems (well, besides the missing W-2 and the sketchy accounting firm), the pay stub I used for my sub W-2 was not well liked by Turbo tax and therefore a troublemaker. Turbo tax told me that too much money was withheld from my social security wages and that I needed to contact the accounting firm to give me back the over drafted money and a new "corrected W-2" before I could continue and complete my tax forms. Hum, you think Turbo tax? Slight problem...it's a "substitute W-2" because the evil accounting firm didn't send me a real W-2 since they "supposedly vanished off the face of the planet" and now, apparently, they also stole money from me. Stupid, stupid automated program!
Anywho...I did a live chat/text thing with the Turbo tax people because when you call them it leads you to a retarded automated lady that is from a random and wrong tax department and hangs up on you if you don't give her the information she requires. You also have to fill out a survey to get the phone number in the first place. A complete waste of time and patience. So, the live chat dude says, "hi," to me and asks for all this personal info. I get a little freaked out that maybe he's a hacker and I don't know if he's who he says he is (it's been a long day and I was paranoid of everything), so I ask him to prove he's from Turbo tax and surprisingly he doesn't think I'm a freak (or at least doesn't IM back that I am) and proves he's who he says he is. I have to say, Turbo tax is a lovely program for people with normal taxes and their help is awesome. Too bad Mark, my Turbo Tax texting buddy, couldn't help me with my problem. He did however tell me to contact the IRS again to see if I'd properly fill out the sub W-2 form and to have a nice day.
The IRS, after transferring me to three people, told me to A.) fill out the Turbo tax form with what the IRS said was correct for the Social Security withholdings, but not what I had filled out on the sub W-2 with the information I had from my last pay stub (leading to my 2009 tax forms potentially being audited) or B.) Go to a tax professional and fill out a hard copy of the tax forms. I headed to H&R Block. On the phone they told me that normal people's taxes would cost about 50-100$ and that I would probably fall into the 150-180$ category. I figured that wasn't too high of a price to pay if everything was done correctly and they could just fix my stupid sub W-2 form problem. Plus a real person is better then automated people and machines.
At H&R Block I met with an extremely nice lady that sort of didn't understand my problem and after consulting the tax manual numerous times, started to type in a bunch of numbers on her computer into her tax program. Once her program excepted my janky substitute W-2 form with the wrong SS withhold amount, we went on to complete the rest of my taxes. We moved on to my list of deductions, which she ended up finding faults with and once, understanding why I had them, tried her best to find places to put them on the tax forms. After deductions, we discovered that not only did I have a messed up sub W-2 form, but one of my jobs put me down as working in North Carolina (which I had worked, but as a California resident, not a NC resident) therefore causing me to fill out more paperwork and make life difficult. This evil little addition of NC paperwork cost me 80$ and a headache. I don't even think my employer got a tax break from NC, so I don't know why they listed me as working there.
Finally, after we thought we'd filled everything out and printed up the materials to send out, my poor Tax lady discovered another 1099-G form for my Unemployment Insurance that got skipped. This in turn pretty much dropped me from getting a nice little sum of money refunded to barely skating by. It also fucked up the stupid NC state tax paper by deducting more money from my refund. I don't see how California unemployment insurance should reflect on NC, but somehow NC sees it as a valid way to swindle more money from me.
Once we triple checked that everything was completed correctly and with all parts, we went over the cost of H&R Block services and discovered they're sneaky little bastards that really know how to charge a pretty penny. Not only do you get charged per form you use, you get charged by the minute and per each time you access certain information. So in the end, my lovely taxes, that should have cost about 70$ on turbo tax ended up being 392$. I about had a shit fit. What the hell. I was gonna go to a friends tax person, but I didn't want to wait to see them and then I didn't figure that my taxes could possibly cost so much. I mean, whos taxes cost 400$ ever. My tax lady felt bad for me and gave me a 77$ off couple. Yeah, 315$, a steal!
So, at first I think I'm going to pay 150$ there abouts and then I think I'm gonna get a good amount of change refunded only to discover I get to pay a fortune to have a nominal fee refunded to me and I have to mail one of my forms in. Grrr, but as the Tax lady said, "at least we discovered the error now, otherwise you would have owned the IRS the incorrect refund amount". Yea, I guess there is a bright side.
All in all, I realize, a live tax person isn't necessarily better then Turbo tax if they don't understand entertainment deductions and when they forget W-2/1099G forms, but they are extremely nice to have in reaffirming that everything is completed correctly (after triple checking) and there to handle the IRS, if they decide to come knocking. 2009 taxes done, now on to 2010 taxes in 12 months using Turbo Tax.
Welcome Note!!!
Hello Everyone,
I just wanted to thank you for coming to my Blog site to read or browse the posts. This Blog is basically mini epitaphs on people I meet, things I do, and things I feel. For years now people have been telling me to write the crazy stores I tell or write the accounts of the strange people I meet. At first I didn't really listen to their advice because I figured my life couldn't be as interesting as they made it out to sound or that everyone just happens to meet weirdos on a street corner (only the sane people tend to turn the other direction instead of embracing said person in a conversation, abet a lucid one or not). When I finally realized people were serious about the whole "write your stories down" thingamagig, I then moved onto Myspace (the coolest new Internet meet and greet friends site of the time) and proceeded to bored people to death (or that's my take on what happened as no one really cared to comment on my posts and therefore I assumed they fell asleep writing a comment to whatever I wrote.) After the whole Myspace fiasco, I somehow got convinced to join Facebook and so I ended up posting "Notes" for people to read, but I think they only get posted on that days "Wall" and then vanish forever unless people intentionally look at your "Wall" which is extremely rare for my profile.
Anyhow, that means, I write and about 3 people read. This wouldn't be so much of a problem, expect for the fact that everyone I know is constantly telling me to post a bunch of my crazy adventures and when I do, no one knows about them, can access them, or just plain reads them. With this new, lovely blog, people can now read at their own leaisure my demented opinions regardless of whether they have a Facebook, Myspace or other account; but beware, you might get a stitch in your side from laughing at me or ruin a perfectly nice keyboard by drooling all over it after I accidentally lull you to sleep with my wittiness. Either way, welcome to my new blog, "the World According to Em", I hope you enjoy what you read and if you have any comments, suggestions on things I should write about (or not write about), or opinions, please feel free to let me know.
Always,
Em
P.S. I will attempt to check my grammar and spelling for this blog, but as always, I will undoubtedly miss something and so don't fault me for poor speech, it's the way I talk and apparently the way I write.
I just wanted to thank you for coming to my Blog site to read or browse the posts. This Blog is basically mini epitaphs on people I meet, things I do, and things I feel. For years now people have been telling me to write the crazy stores I tell or write the accounts of the strange people I meet. At first I didn't really listen to their advice because I figured my life couldn't be as interesting as they made it out to sound or that everyone just happens to meet weirdos on a street corner (only the sane people tend to turn the other direction instead of embracing said person in a conversation, abet a lucid one or not). When I finally realized people were serious about the whole "write your stories down" thingamagig, I then moved onto Myspace (the coolest new Internet meet and greet friends site of the time) and proceeded to bored people to death (or that's my take on what happened as no one really cared to comment on my posts and therefore I assumed they fell asleep writing a comment to whatever I wrote.) After the whole Myspace fiasco, I somehow got convinced to join Facebook and so I ended up posting "Notes" for people to read, but I think they only get posted on that days "Wall" and then vanish forever unless people intentionally look at your "Wall" which is extremely rare for my profile.
Anyhow, that means, I write and about 3 people read. This wouldn't be so much of a problem, expect for the fact that everyone I know is constantly telling me to post a bunch of my crazy adventures and when I do, no one knows about them, can access them, or just plain reads them. With this new, lovely blog, people can now read at their own leaisure my demented opinions regardless of whether they have a Facebook, Myspace or other account; but beware, you might get a stitch in your side from laughing at me or ruin a perfectly nice keyboard by drooling all over it after I accidentally lull you to sleep with my wittiness. Either way, welcome to my new blog, "the World According to Em", I hope you enjoy what you read and if you have any comments, suggestions on things I should write about (or not write about), or opinions, please feel free to let me know.
Always,
Em
P.S. I will attempt to check my grammar and spelling for this blog, but as always, I will undoubtedly miss something and so don't fault me for poor speech, it's the way I talk and apparently the way I write.
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