- A man asked me today if the plate of cookies we had up front in our office were real...like cookies you eat. I said "Yep, sure are. Take as many as you like." But all the while, I was wondering to myself how many fake cookies this man has come across in his lifetime. I mean, I've seen fake food displays, don't get me wrong. I've seen friends decorate their dining room tables with vases and bowls of fake fruit(which sounds tacky as hell, but if done the right way, actually looks pretty and festive), I've seen fake sandwiches at subway, so as to demonstrate what your actual sandwich will not resemble in the slightest, and at The Loop restaurant they usually have one of their dishes made and out for show so people can see what it looks like. I know that technically that last one wasn't fake food, but since you're not supposed to eat it, we'll consider it "fake". But never have I seen fake food in an office. What's the point? We're not selling food, so it's not a "preview" of what you're getting. Even in places like Doctors' offices, or Banks, when they put out bowls of candy, I never think to myself "What a lovely display of breath mints." Because, if there's some kind of food out in an office, it's for customers to eat, not just admire. Then again, I could have completely misunderstood what he meant. Maybe he was under the influence of a hallucinogen and thought they weren't real, as in not really there. Either way sir, take as many fake cookies as your little heart desires.
- Since I can't really think of anything else that has happened today that makes me wonder "Is it just me?", I thought that I would address a question I get from my friends and loved ones about some of the topics on this blog. Yes, these things really happen. No, I am not embellishing the truth. Word for crazy word, that is what went down. I guess reading this, as someone who didn't experience it personally, one would think "That could never happen. People don't do/say/ask/ things like that." But I assure you, dear readers, that people do in fact do/say/ask things like that ALL THE TIME. Maybe it's just me. Maybe I attract the crazies, or make them feel as though they can really open up and be themselves around me. Maybe it's that combined with where I work(we get some off the rockers in here). One may never know. That's why I started this blog. Because I just knew that while the things that happen to and around me sometimes(well, let's be honest, always) get on my nerves or piss me off, I cannot deny that they are all at once entertaining, enlightening, and words of indirect warning. That, and I wanted to let everyone else out there who asks that same question day in and day out know that, no, it is not just you.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Monday, March 17, 2008
Really?!
- Boyfriend and I went to Tampa this weekend to do Busch Gardens and watch baseball spring training in Sarasota. I have to admit, even though I'm not a huge baseball fan, I had a lot of fun. But there were a few things that bothered me this weekend. One, the people who bring their infant children with the babies-r-us caravan to theme parks, and the asinine question that inevitably gets asked whenever I have a sunburn. Parents, I'm sure that when your baby was born, your heads were filled with visions of family vacations in the sun, laughter and cheer abounding, and memories that would last a lifetime. But let me tell you something about children ages 1 month-2 years old: They will not remember anything about where they are or what they are doing. But you want to know who will remember that trip? You. I'm pretty sure that if you and your spouse, and your double-wide buggy, and three over sized stuffed animals, stop dead in the middle of the walkway one more time when I'm trying to get my ass to the hospitality tent for a free beer, you will remember me knocking you over with the zeal of an army tank. I mean, really, why are you here? Having a child does not give you the right to take up 90% of the walking space anywhere you go. It just doesn't, I'm sorry. And stop giving me dirty looks, because I've been through the free beer line enough times to tell you exactly what I think about you not putting enough sunblock on your newborn baby, you irresponsible bastard.
- So, after Busch Gardens and a lovely night in Tampa, we headed to Sarasota on Sunday to watch the Reds and Phillies play a spring training game. Fun times! There were hot dogs, overpriced beer(which I only paid half price for...SCORE), old people who bitched about how hot it was even though they were technically in South Florida, and sweat dripping from every pore. It was awesome. It was also a cloudless, 87 degree day. Boyfriend and I look like someone spray painted us red. But alas, this is not actually what happened. So, it irritates me to no end when every person I see asks me "So, got a little sun this weekend?" Really? You have to ask that? It's not funny, so you can just wipe that smug expression off your face. I mean, OBVIOUSLY I'm sunburned. Or perhaps it's not so obvious to you. I'm sure there are lots of other things it could be. Maybe I stuck my head in the oven this weekend, thinking about ending it all, but decided at the last minute that I have too much to live for. But hey, it did leave me with this healthy glow. Maybe that's it? Or, maybe I just went a little crazy with the blush this morning. Perhaps I decided at 21 that I wanted to be proactive in my defense against the signs of aging, and so I went out and got a chemical peel(as one does), and now look like beef carpacio. Hmmm...maybe, just maybe. Or, you could just resist the urge to ask me such a stupid question, because believe me, you are not the first person to think of it. I don't know what your friends have been telling you. You're not that original.
- So, after Busch Gardens and a lovely night in Tampa, we headed to Sarasota on Sunday to watch the Reds and Phillies play a spring training game. Fun times! There were hot dogs, overpriced beer(which I only paid half price for...SCORE), old people who bitched about how hot it was even though they were technically in South Florida, and sweat dripping from every pore. It was awesome. It was also a cloudless, 87 degree day. Boyfriend and I look like someone spray painted us red. But alas, this is not actually what happened. So, it irritates me to no end when every person I see asks me "So, got a little sun this weekend?" Really? You have to ask that? It's not funny, so you can just wipe that smug expression off your face. I mean, OBVIOUSLY I'm sunburned. Or perhaps it's not so obvious to you. I'm sure there are lots of other things it could be. Maybe I stuck my head in the oven this weekend, thinking about ending it all, but decided at the last minute that I have too much to live for. But hey, it did leave me with this healthy glow. Maybe that's it? Or, maybe I just went a little crazy with the blush this morning. Perhaps I decided at 21 that I wanted to be proactive in my defense against the signs of aging, and so I went out and got a chemical peel(as one does), and now look like beef carpacio. Hmmm...maybe, just maybe. Or, you could just resist the urge to ask me such a stupid question, because believe me, you are not the first person to think of it. I don't know what your friends have been telling you. You're not that original.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
You Glow Girl
- People's narcissism never ceases to amaze me. The conversation I have most often with people that call the office goes something like this: Person:"Hi, this is Bill. One of your attorneys did some work for me a few years ago, and I was wondering if I could get a copy of my file." Me: "Bill, do you have a last name?" Person: "Smith. Do you know when I could pick that up?" Me: "How many years ago was it?" Person:" Back in 01." Me: "Well, probably by the end of the week. I'll have to pull your file and copy it." Person:" Well, I was thinking more like this afternoon." Reeeeeaallllyyyyyyy? When faced with these kinds of statements, I always have to take a moment to consider whether laughter would an inappropriate response. Unfortunately, the answer is yes. First of all, who calls their former Attorney after 7 years, or ever, and only gives their first name? Second, who calls the DAY OF and asks for work that was done that long ago? But my favorite part is the attitude I get when I don't know who they are. I feel like saying "Sir, unless your name is George Clooney, you could have come in to the office yesterday and spent 5 hours talking to me and I still would not remember you. We're your attorney, not your Mother. It's not our job to make you feel special." Am I wrong?
- I love gossip columns like a sexaholic loves porn...well, maybe not that much, but they do hold a special place in my heart. One thing that's been all the rage lately is that Angelina Jolie is believed to be preggers. And the overwhelming evidence of this is that she "that glow." Yeah, uh-hu, sure, that could be it. Or it could be that she's rolling in dough, gets the best beauty treatments money can buy, has nothing to worry about ever, and gets to bang one of the hottest men alive every single day(yeah, I said it). I mean, really, it's a toss up. Don't get me wrong, I think Angie deserves everything she has. Not only is she one of the most generous celebs out there, but really an example to humanity as a whole. Kudos to you, Angie, kudos to you. And if you want to throw some of that money my way, that's cool too.
- I love gossip columns like a sexaholic loves porn...well, maybe not that much, but they do hold a special place in my heart. One thing that's been all the rage lately is that Angelina Jolie is believed to be preggers. And the overwhelming evidence of this is that she "that glow." Yeah, uh-hu, sure, that could be it. Or it could be that she's rolling in dough, gets the best beauty treatments money can buy, has nothing to worry about ever, and gets to bang one of the hottest men alive every single day(yeah, I said it). I mean, really, it's a toss up. Don't get me wrong, I think Angie deserves everything she has. Not only is she one of the most generous celebs out there, but really an example to humanity as a whole. Kudos to you, Angie, kudos to you. And if you want to throw some of that money my way, that's cool too.
Bagles Are Made of Bread...Right?
I went to Panera this morning to get some coffee. Big mistake. While I was standing in line, I could tell that the woman in front of me looked confused. I figured that she was just trying to decide what kind of bagel she wanted, as that can be a pretty stressful decision. Oh, how wrong I was. She gets up to the register(keep in mind, there are like 10 people in line behind her), and when the clerk asks her what she wants, she says "Oh, I just don't know. I'm on the low-carb diet, so I'm not sure what I can have." I kid you not, I turned around and walked out. One, because I didn't have time to stand there while genius came to the conclusion that she could not, in fact, have ANYTHING from Panera. And two, because I just knew that I didn't have the level of self control necessary to not ask this woman why she came, of all places, to a restaurant who's sign says "A Bread Company." Really, it's a question of knowing your limits.
- I have to say that I'm really proud of recent celeb Moms like Nicole Richie for making an attempt to give their children normal names. Harlow may not be the first thing that most people would think of, but at least it's not a food. I mean, what kind of name is Apple? Whenever I hear it, I think of the scene in Anchorman when Steve Carell says "I love lamp." I think that Gwen was just sitting at home one day before she went in to labor, spotted an apple sitting on her kitchen counter(or wherever it is that celebs keep their fruit), and decided then and there that she was naming her baby Apple. At least that's the way I see it going down.
- I have to say that I'm really proud of recent celeb Moms like Nicole Richie for making an attempt to give their children normal names. Harlow may not be the first thing that most people would think of, but at least it's not a food. I mean, what kind of name is Apple? Whenever I hear it, I think of the scene in Anchorman when Steve Carell says "I love lamp." I think that Gwen was just sitting at home one day before she went in to labor, spotted an apple sitting on her kitchen counter(or wherever it is that celebs keep their fruit), and decided then and there that she was naming her baby Apple. At least that's the way I see it going down.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
In The Event Of An Emergency, Please Contact Someone Who Cares
Ok, decided on a new format. From now on, unless I'm really harping on one topic, I will be providing you with my thoughts on various things that piss me off/make me laugh/confuse me more than chemistry(and that's pretty damn hard).
- I was standing in line at the bank today, all by myself, thinking about whether or not I should switch shampoos(as one does), when all of the sudden this guy comes in and gets in line behind me. Except, instead of standing at a comfortable, and might I add NORMAL, 2-3 feet away from me, he stood like 6 inches behind me. And stayed there. I have to say, in spite of him not doing anything weird or frightening, this really bothered me. I mean, he didn't smell offensive, or try and touch me, or have an obnoxious conversation on his cell phone, he just stood there quietly waiting for his turn. But why? Why, when there was about 8 feet worth of standing room, did he choose to stand RIGHT ON TOP OF ME? These are the kinds of things that really make me concerned about the metal health of the human race.
- A customer called the office today and asked to speak to a coworker that happened to be out of the office due to the death of a family member. When I told the customer that she was unavailable for the forseeable future, the person kept on and on, asking why she was out. Finally I told her that there had been a death in the family, just to shut her up, assuming that death would be sufficient reason for one to be out of the office. Do you know what the customer says to me? She says "Really?"What do you mean "Really?" No, not really. I just thought that it would be fun to tell you that someone had died. What kind of sicko would make something like that up, and what kind of idiot says "Really?" If you don't have a better response than "Really?", just don't say anything. Just hang up. It would make more sense than questioning the validity that someone did in fact die.
- It is now safe to say that I hate couples, who insist on making Valentine's Day the most importnant day ever, more this year than last year. And this year, I'm in a couple. I'm not saying that I hate the holiday, or what it stands for, or that I don't plan on celebrating it. I'm very happy to be celebrating Valentine's with my boyfriend. I'm sure it'll be special, and sweet and full of candy and cupid vomit which is presently covering the surface of every major grocery, drug, and department store. What I hate is people who shove the holiday down your throat. I was getting a pedicure the other day, and this girl that was sitting next tome starting chatting with me, which in itself should have told me that this was going nowhere good. I'm not an unfriendly person, I just don't feel the social obligation that most people do to fill silence between myself and a stranger with idle chit chat. But anyways, so this girl starts chatting with me, I think over my ring that I had on. Girls chat about those things. And now I remember how we got on the subject of V-day. She complimented my ring and asked if my boyfriend had given it to me. I told her no, that it was family heirloom, and left it at that. Well, she took that as an opening to start asking me what my plans were, what I was getting him, if I had any idea what he might be getting me, if I bought those "cute" little candy hearts, if we had a favorite restaurant that we would be visiting...on and on it went. I just told her that I really wasn't in to all the big fancy hearts and showy stuff on Valentine's Day, that I would be perfectly content to just "do whatever" with my boyfriend, and that I didn't know what I was getting him yet and I hadn't really thought about him getting me a gift. This girl looked at me like I had just proclaimed myself the next Mussolini and was planning a coup d'etat as we spoke. She asked "Oh, bad relationship?" First, what the hell is up with the totally inappropriate responses lately?? And second, why in the name of all that is holy would you ask a complete stranger that? I turned to her(because up until this point I just kept on reading my magazine hoping she would shut up. Obviously that was about as effective as trying to see snow by moving to Brazil) and said "No, we just have a great enough relationship that we don't have to tell each other how much it means by buying each other overpriced crap." I don't think her brain computed what I had just said. She went back to trying to decide on a polish color.
- I was standing in line at the bank today, all by myself, thinking about whether or not I should switch shampoos(as one does), when all of the sudden this guy comes in and gets in line behind me. Except, instead of standing at a comfortable, and might I add NORMAL, 2-3 feet away from me, he stood like 6 inches behind me. And stayed there. I have to say, in spite of him not doing anything weird or frightening, this really bothered me. I mean, he didn't smell offensive, or try and touch me, or have an obnoxious conversation on his cell phone, he just stood there quietly waiting for his turn. But why? Why, when there was about 8 feet worth of standing room, did he choose to stand RIGHT ON TOP OF ME? These are the kinds of things that really make me concerned about the metal health of the human race.
- A customer called the office today and asked to speak to a coworker that happened to be out of the office due to the death of a family member. When I told the customer that she was unavailable for the forseeable future, the person kept on and on, asking why she was out. Finally I told her that there had been a death in the family, just to shut her up, assuming that death would be sufficient reason for one to be out of the office. Do you know what the customer says to me? She says "Really?"What do you mean "Really?" No, not really. I just thought that it would be fun to tell you that someone had died. What kind of sicko would make something like that up, and what kind of idiot says "Really?" If you don't have a better response than "Really?", just don't say anything. Just hang up. It would make more sense than questioning the validity that someone did in fact die.
- It is now safe to say that I hate couples, who insist on making Valentine's Day the most importnant day ever, more this year than last year. And this year, I'm in a couple. I'm not saying that I hate the holiday, or what it stands for, or that I don't plan on celebrating it. I'm very happy to be celebrating Valentine's with my boyfriend. I'm sure it'll be special, and sweet and full of candy and cupid vomit which is presently covering the surface of every major grocery, drug, and department store. What I hate is people who shove the holiday down your throat. I was getting a pedicure the other day, and this girl that was sitting next tome starting chatting with me, which in itself should have told me that this was going nowhere good. I'm not an unfriendly person, I just don't feel the social obligation that most people do to fill silence between myself and a stranger with idle chit chat. But anyways, so this girl starts chatting with me, I think over my ring that I had on. Girls chat about those things. And now I remember how we got on the subject of V-day. She complimented my ring and asked if my boyfriend had given it to me. I told her no, that it was family heirloom, and left it at that. Well, she took that as an opening to start asking me what my plans were, what I was getting him, if I had any idea what he might be getting me, if I bought those "cute" little candy hearts, if we had a favorite restaurant that we would be visiting...on and on it went. I just told her that I really wasn't in to all the big fancy hearts and showy stuff on Valentine's Day, that I would be perfectly content to just "do whatever" with my boyfriend, and that I didn't know what I was getting him yet and I hadn't really thought about him getting me a gift. This girl looked at me like I had just proclaimed myself the next Mussolini and was planning a coup d'etat as we spoke. She asked "Oh, bad relationship?" First, what the hell is up with the totally inappropriate responses lately?? And second, why in the name of all that is holy would you ask a complete stranger that? I turned to her(because up until this point I just kept on reading my magazine hoping she would shut up. Obviously that was about as effective as trying to see snow by moving to Brazil) and said "No, we just have a great enough relationship that we don't have to tell each other how much it means by buying each other overpriced crap." I don't think her brain computed what I had just said. She went back to trying to decide on a polish color.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Devil May Care...But Then Again, Maybe Not
I can't concentrate today. I blame all the cold meds. So, we're gonna do things a little differently today.
- Heath Ledger died. I have no idea why this upsets me so much. I didn't know him personally, he wasn't one of my favorite actors, and although he never did anything scandalous, he never really did anything that made me say "Wow, what a truly amazing individual." But somehow, I am truly saddened by his passing. Maybe it's because he was only 28. Maybe it's because he had a daughter who will now never know what it really means to be Daddy's little girl. Maybe because he died the same way so many people in Hollywood do, well, so many people for that matter, which is alone...and naked. Or maybe it's because deep down, as fatalistic as it sounds, many of us expect death or disease from certain people. The people who do drugs, drink, party, sleep around, drive while under the influence, or mix illegal substances quicker than a bartender can serve you a mojito on a slow night. We're shocked when it's someone low key, someone who flies under the radar. But like they say, it's always the quiet ones you have to look out for.
- I recently learned how to play beer pong. OH. MY. GOD. I never got beer pong. I mean, really, if you want to get drunk, get drunk. Why stand around trying to land a ping pong ball in a cup of beer? Because it is so much FUN! That's why. I'm a pretty competitive person, and so is my boyfriend(which makes me even more competitive), and beer pong can get pretty intense. Especially if you're on a team. Boyfriend and I have yet to fight, we're just not fighting people. But I have a feeling that if we ever really do throw down, it's gonna be over who's fault it was that we didn't win the beer pong tournament. Seriously, some one's gonna miss the winning shot and it'll be on like donkey kong.
- I have become a very forgetful person. This kind of worries me, seeing as I'm all of 21. That's not supposed to happen for like another 40 years...right? The thing is though, it's never the important stuff like work or school, or ice cream at the grocery store. It's always stuff that, when I realize I've forgotten it, I'm not really all that upset about it. Usually it's plans that I didn't want to make in the first place, or to buy something that I didn't really need. So, the way I see it, my brain has just decided to save me from myself. It weeds out all the crap that doesn't need to be in there. And honestly, I think it's pretty cool that my brain considers picking up gum more important than lunch plans with that person who wanted to pick my brain about...hold on, I just had it.
- I would like to know why Myspace seems to be on a completely different time continuum than the rest of the world. Seriously. Have you ever sent someone a message, or written a blog, or posted a bulletin, and then gone back and looked at it later and it says that it was written/left/posted at 3:42 am when in fact the actual time was 6:30pm? This has been going on since I got on myspace 3 years ago. Is there some option to set your myspace clock that I don't know about? I know that this really should not be that big of a deal, but it bothers me. Mainly because I know people who actually stay up all night on their myspace, and I would never want anyone, not even my fake friends whom I have never met, to think that I am one of them.
- And my last thought for this post: I love that having babies is the new trend in Hollywood. Seriously, babies are the new Kabalah. Everyone is taking part. It would not surprise me one bit to find out that stars(and I use that term loosely) are designing their kids. I could totally hear one of them going ape shit on some poor geneticist over whether or not it's possible to design a child that will one day have the talent to sing, act, get a DUI by age 17, and have a cocoaine problem, all the while starring in TV series that promotes family values.
- Heath Ledger died. I have no idea why this upsets me so much. I didn't know him personally, he wasn't one of my favorite actors, and although he never did anything scandalous, he never really did anything that made me say "Wow, what a truly amazing individual." But somehow, I am truly saddened by his passing. Maybe it's because he was only 28. Maybe it's because he had a daughter who will now never know what it really means to be Daddy's little girl. Maybe because he died the same way so many people in Hollywood do, well, so many people for that matter, which is alone...and naked. Or maybe it's because deep down, as fatalistic as it sounds, many of us expect death or disease from certain people. The people who do drugs, drink, party, sleep around, drive while under the influence, or mix illegal substances quicker than a bartender can serve you a mojito on a slow night. We're shocked when it's someone low key, someone who flies under the radar. But like they say, it's always the quiet ones you have to look out for.
- I recently learned how to play beer pong. OH. MY. GOD. I never got beer pong. I mean, really, if you want to get drunk, get drunk. Why stand around trying to land a ping pong ball in a cup of beer? Because it is so much FUN! That's why. I'm a pretty competitive person, and so is my boyfriend(which makes me even more competitive), and beer pong can get pretty intense. Especially if you're on a team. Boyfriend and I have yet to fight, we're just not fighting people. But I have a feeling that if we ever really do throw down, it's gonna be over who's fault it was that we didn't win the beer pong tournament. Seriously, some one's gonna miss the winning shot and it'll be on like donkey kong.
- I have become a very forgetful person. This kind of worries me, seeing as I'm all of 21. That's not supposed to happen for like another 40 years...right? The thing is though, it's never the important stuff like work or school, or ice cream at the grocery store. It's always stuff that, when I realize I've forgotten it, I'm not really all that upset about it. Usually it's plans that I didn't want to make in the first place, or to buy something that I didn't really need. So, the way I see it, my brain has just decided to save me from myself. It weeds out all the crap that doesn't need to be in there. And honestly, I think it's pretty cool that my brain considers picking up gum more important than lunch plans with that person who wanted to pick my brain about...hold on, I just had it.
- I would like to know why Myspace seems to be on a completely different time continuum than the rest of the world. Seriously. Have you ever sent someone a message, or written a blog, or posted a bulletin, and then gone back and looked at it later and it says that it was written/left/posted at 3:42 am when in fact the actual time was 6:30pm? This has been going on since I got on myspace 3 years ago. Is there some option to set your myspace clock that I don't know about? I know that this really should not be that big of a deal, but it bothers me. Mainly because I know people who actually stay up all night on their myspace, and I would never want anyone, not even my fake friends whom I have never met, to think that I am one of them.
- And my last thought for this post: I love that having babies is the new trend in Hollywood. Seriously, babies are the new Kabalah. Everyone is taking part. It would not surprise me one bit to find out that stars(and I use that term loosely) are designing their kids. I could totally hear one of them going ape shit on some poor geneticist over whether or not it's possible to design a child that will one day have the talent to sing, act, get a DUI by age 17, and have a cocoaine problem, all the while starring in TV series that promotes family values.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Tis The Season To Throw Down
In the spirit of the season, my blog today will be dedicated solely to things that piss me off. Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking "I don't have the patience or back strength to sit here for 3 days reading, so could I get the condensed version?" Yes, my friend, like a dedicated Cuban with milk, I shall now provide you with the condensed version of my favorite thing: bitching. And so, here is a list of things that really get under my skin, and because I love all of you so much, I've decided to make it the Holiday edition. Merry Chrismahannukquanzukah, and Happy Reading!!
1. People who go out shopping during the 14 days before Christmas and take their sweet ass time. This tops the list because there is nothing more nerve racking and more likely to bring out some one's homicidal tendencies than a person who insists on walking as slow as is humanly possible through a mall, department store, grocery store, or other venue of Holiday supplies. I want to know who these people think they are. Why are they aimlessly wandering the aisles of sparkling green and red crap looking like lost children about to cry for their Mothers? Why are they not at home on their computers doing their shopping online and paying the extra $2,000 to get their packages here by Christmas Eve? Because obviously they lack the crucial ability to make split second decisions like: Peppermint or Chocolate? Small or Medium? Fur or Leather? Battery operated or Plug in? If you cannot decide in a nanosecond flat how many of those bookmarks that play Christmas carols when you open the page, that people will never use again, to buy as stocking stuffer for your third cousin twice removed....get the hell out of my way because I still have socks with tassels to pick out.
2. People who use the Holidays in a vain attempt to cover up their lack of manners. There are very few people that call my office, or bump into me in the street, or steal the last Cosmo Magazine right out from under me that I don't feel the urge to ask for their Mother's phone number so that I can call the woman up and ask her just what the hell she was thinking when she told her children it was OK to act that way. People seem to be inherently rude these days. Which is fine, if they own up to being rude. Like, just admit that you have an attitude problem. But do not, after just having acted like our consultation fee is a personal attack on you, or telling me that because your file is not sitting right next to me on my desk even though you haven't been a client for 3 years that I'm being irresponsible or am somehow incompetent, wish me a Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays. You don't mean it. In fact, I'm pretty sure that you mean the opposite of that. You're probably hoping that I'll get caught in an unwieldy set of lights and be strangled while carolers are outside my door humming silent night.
3. Parents who take their children Christmas shopping. Stop yelling at your children in the aisles like a pack of animals. They're children. They're genetically hardwired to like candy, stuffed animals, and anything that you can't afford. You chose to take them with you on your quest for the cheapest digital frame made. It's not their fault that you and your spouse/baby-daddy or mama can't divide household responsibilities and avoid this drama by having one parent stay home with the kids and the other go out shopping alone. Everytime I see you out there, in your hideous sweaters and birkenstocks, I'm tempted to buy whatever it is your brat wants and give it to them right then and there, just to spite you.
4. Party hosts who insist on doing gift exchange. I have no desire to fain excitement at the sight of yet another fruit cake. Nor do I wish to be expected to express delight over some hack's wayward attempt at "crafting". Forced gift exchange is bullshit. Like writing papers or studying for an exam, I am only good at buying gifts for people that I care about. It's as simple as that. The reason being that if I don't care about you then I probably have not spent the time necessary to get to know you, and therefore have no idea what the hell you want for Christmas. I also don't appreciate being put in the very awkward situation of having to pretend to like something I hate. I don't do dishonest emotions well. While my words may say "I love it", my face says "Would it be appropriate to throw up all over this needlepoint pillow?"
I'm sure there will be more, which I'll put in a blog entitled "Tis The Season To Throw Down, Part II". Until then, be safe, eat well, drink your weight in booze, and stop beating your children.
1. People who go out shopping during the 14 days before Christmas and take their sweet ass time. This tops the list because there is nothing more nerve racking and more likely to bring out some one's homicidal tendencies than a person who insists on walking as slow as is humanly possible through a mall, department store, grocery store, or other venue of Holiday supplies. I want to know who these people think they are. Why are they aimlessly wandering the aisles of sparkling green and red crap looking like lost children about to cry for their Mothers? Why are they not at home on their computers doing their shopping online and paying the extra $2,000 to get their packages here by Christmas Eve? Because obviously they lack the crucial ability to make split second decisions like: Peppermint or Chocolate? Small or Medium? Fur or Leather? Battery operated or Plug in? If you cannot decide in a nanosecond flat how many of those bookmarks that play Christmas carols when you open the page, that people will never use again, to buy as stocking stuffer for your third cousin twice removed....get the hell out of my way because I still have socks with tassels to pick out.
2. People who use the Holidays in a vain attempt to cover up their lack of manners. There are very few people that call my office, or bump into me in the street, or steal the last Cosmo Magazine right out from under me that I don't feel the urge to ask for their Mother's phone number so that I can call the woman up and ask her just what the hell she was thinking when she told her children it was OK to act that way. People seem to be inherently rude these days. Which is fine, if they own up to being rude. Like, just admit that you have an attitude problem. But do not, after just having acted like our consultation fee is a personal attack on you, or telling me that because your file is not sitting right next to me on my desk even though you haven't been a client for 3 years that I'm being irresponsible or am somehow incompetent, wish me a Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays. You don't mean it. In fact, I'm pretty sure that you mean the opposite of that. You're probably hoping that I'll get caught in an unwieldy set of lights and be strangled while carolers are outside my door humming silent night.
3. Parents who take their children Christmas shopping. Stop yelling at your children in the aisles like a pack of animals. They're children. They're genetically hardwired to like candy, stuffed animals, and anything that you can't afford. You chose to take them with you on your quest for the cheapest digital frame made. It's not their fault that you and your spouse/baby-daddy or mama can't divide household responsibilities and avoid this drama by having one parent stay home with the kids and the other go out shopping alone. Everytime I see you out there, in your hideous sweaters and birkenstocks, I'm tempted to buy whatever it is your brat wants and give it to them right then and there, just to spite you.
4. Party hosts who insist on doing gift exchange. I have no desire to fain excitement at the sight of yet another fruit cake. Nor do I wish to be expected to express delight over some hack's wayward attempt at "crafting". Forced gift exchange is bullshit. Like writing papers or studying for an exam, I am only good at buying gifts for people that I care about. It's as simple as that. The reason being that if I don't care about you then I probably have not spent the time necessary to get to know you, and therefore have no idea what the hell you want for Christmas. I also don't appreciate being put in the very awkward situation of having to pretend to like something I hate. I don't do dishonest emotions well. While my words may say "I love it", my face says "Would it be appropriate to throw up all over this needlepoint pillow?"
I'm sure there will be more, which I'll put in a blog entitled "Tis The Season To Throw Down, Part II". Until then, be safe, eat well, drink your weight in booze, and stop beating your children.
For The Love Of Gucci
I'm not what you would call a fashionista. I don't make a point of putting every outfit together perfectly, matching shoes to belt to purse to earrings and so forth. I don't obsess over my shirt coordinating perfectly with my watch or my necklace complimenting my rings. I mean, for the most part, my wardrobe consists of things that go together no matter what. Black, brown, white, grey, and the occasional colorful sweater or pair of shoes to mix it up. It's not that I don't enjoy taking risks with my look, I'm just aware of what works in what situation and what does not. Which brings me to my point: I never have, and never will, understand women who feel that no matter where they are going, anything they feel like putting on is appropriate.
A good example of this is Carrie in SATC. I love that show. Really, I do. But my major issue with it is the same issue I have with these so called "free spirits of fashion." A towel is not an outfit. Neither is a man's shirt paired with a wide belt and a pair of high heels. Nor are ankle warmers and a night shirt. Adding high heels to something does not constitute getting dressed. And the thing that gets me most is when I see these women out with their friends or boyfriends. I would hope that if my friends came over to find me trying to pass off a slip, faux fur coat and pair of strappy scandals as an outfit, they would immediately call the men in the white coats because it would certainly mean that I had lost it for good and obviously needed help. Same with a boyfriend. While I don't think that couples should tell each other what to do or wear, I do think that boyfriends and girlfriends have a certain responsibility to each other to not let the other walk out of the house looking like a fool. It's just not nice. Love means occasionally having to say "Hon, you look demented."
Granted, I do live most of my life under the impression that the whole world is my bedroom. I mean, I would live in pajamas(complete with fuzzy slippers) if it was allowed. But it's not. The only places that it's OK for me to do that are in my house and at school(some of the time). When I'm at work, or going out, or doing anything in public, it's necessary to make the effort to throw on at least a pair of jeans and a top so that I don't look like I just rolled out of the bed 5 minutes before walking out the door. And I see these people out there in beach cover-ups, night shirts, or outfits fit for a stripper, and I want to walk up to them and ask "I just want to know what you were thinking when you got dressed this morning. Really, what was going through your head? Did you look in the mirror? Or just throw caution to the wind and hope for the best? And where are the cops? I believe this constitutes public indecency." And it's always in places like Target, or Wal-Mart, or Publix that I see them. Those are public places to , ya know! The rest of us are not impervious to your smell or horrible fashion choices just because the store is the size of a small country. Lingerie doesn't count either. Just because it costs more than your average pair of pants doesn't make it clothing.
But hey, I could be wrong. Maybe if I got out there in next to nothing, I'd see what all the rage is about. But with my luck, all I would end up seeing is the inside of a prison cell.
A good example of this is Carrie in SATC. I love that show. Really, I do. But my major issue with it is the same issue I have with these so called "free spirits of fashion." A towel is not an outfit. Neither is a man's shirt paired with a wide belt and a pair of high heels. Nor are ankle warmers and a night shirt. Adding high heels to something does not constitute getting dressed. And the thing that gets me most is when I see these women out with their friends or boyfriends. I would hope that if my friends came over to find me trying to pass off a slip, faux fur coat and pair of strappy scandals as an outfit, they would immediately call the men in the white coats because it would certainly mean that I had lost it for good and obviously needed help. Same with a boyfriend. While I don't think that couples should tell each other what to do or wear, I do think that boyfriends and girlfriends have a certain responsibility to each other to not let the other walk out of the house looking like a fool. It's just not nice. Love means occasionally having to say "Hon, you look demented."
Granted, I do live most of my life under the impression that the whole world is my bedroom. I mean, I would live in pajamas(complete with fuzzy slippers) if it was allowed. But it's not. The only places that it's OK for me to do that are in my house and at school(some of the time). When I'm at work, or going out, or doing anything in public, it's necessary to make the effort to throw on at least a pair of jeans and a top so that I don't look like I just rolled out of the bed 5 minutes before walking out the door. And I see these people out there in beach cover-ups, night shirts, or outfits fit for a stripper, and I want to walk up to them and ask "I just want to know what you were thinking when you got dressed this morning. Really, what was going through your head? Did you look in the mirror? Or just throw caution to the wind and hope for the best? And where are the cops? I believe this constitutes public indecency." And it's always in places like Target, or Wal-Mart, or Publix that I see them. Those are public places to , ya know! The rest of us are not impervious to your smell or horrible fashion choices just because the store is the size of a small country. Lingerie doesn't count either. Just because it costs more than your average pair of pants doesn't make it clothing.
But hey, I could be wrong. Maybe if I got out there in next to nothing, I'd see what all the rage is about. But with my luck, all I would end up seeing is the inside of a prison cell.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
To Be On Hold For The Next 5 Hours, Press 2
Automated voice prompts are the latest thorn in my side. I loathe them with a burning passion only rivaled by my hate for leopard print spandex. And it's not that I don't appreciate the phone company's/cable company's/drug store's attempt at convenience, but after five minutes of not breathing for fear that the prompter may misunderstand me and think I was asking to be put through to the bills payable/we don't speak English department, my head is about to explode and I feel dizzy from lack of oxygen. And the voice, oh the voice. I mean, I don't need to be asked for my credit card number by a robotic phone sex operator. I would be happy to give it to Joe Schmow, just as long as he doesn't sound like he's touching himself while asking me for it.
And EVERYONE has one these days. Department stores, phone companies, the city, even the local deli. It's pure laziness, and what these places don't realize is that people don't want to talk to a recording. A recording can't understand what you're saying. It says that it can, but it's lying to you. Most say they can understand over 250 responses, but what they don't tell you is that "Live person" and "This is bullshit" aren't included in those.
I was on the phone with T-Mobile the other day trying to pay my bill, and I had to listen to the automated bitch drone on for 10 minutes before she let me say anything. I don't need to hear "We appreciate your call" and "Thank you for choosing T-Mobile". I know they don't appreciate my call, or they wouldn't be making me wait. I do not have time to carry on a one sided conversation with a recording, I'm not a bored housewife with no one to talk to. I have places to go and things to do. And God forbid I call from a crowded coffee shop or the office and some one's talking in the background or I'm trying to type while on hold. If a strong wind blows through, the auto-whore thinks I told her that I wanted to go back to the main menu and then I have to start the whole process all over again. And they never give you the option upfront to talk to a live person, that's the last resort. The damn thing will hang up on you before it'll put you through to a "customer care representative." Then I get on the phone with a real person, and by that point I'm so angry that I'm screaming at them like they're deaf and swearing them black and blue for asking me the same fucking questions for the tenth time. Yes, I am aware that I can access my account online. I'm not retarded, I wasn't trying to access the Internet by calling you, obviously I wanted to talk to a live person. No, I do not want to go over my bill, I just want to pay it. Why the hell did I have to press a million keys to navigate my way to you if all you're going to do is ask me the same shit over and over and over again?
Then they have no answers for you and suggest you go online to the FAQ's section of your profile. And my question is, why the hell are they paying these people? What are they here for, to tell you that they can't help you? To give you attitude because you're interrupting their hundredth game of solitaire? C'mon Buddy, I don't like a lot of our clients either, but I don't act as though they're inconveniencing me when I have to actually do my job and help them with what they need. But the best is when they ask you to calm down, as if you're going to jump through the phone and harm them. Believe me, if it was possible, everyone in the cable industry would be in serious trouble. I know people who have broken their remotes waiting to talk to someone. I know people who have broken their TVs waiting to talk to someone.
And then there are the freaks who enjoy talking to the auto-voice. I guess those are the ones too cheap to pay for phone sex.
And EVERYONE has one these days. Department stores, phone companies, the city, even the local deli. It's pure laziness, and what these places don't realize is that people don't want to talk to a recording. A recording can't understand what you're saying. It says that it can, but it's lying to you. Most say they can understand over 250 responses, but what they don't tell you is that "Live person" and "This is bullshit" aren't included in those.
I was on the phone with T-Mobile the other day trying to pay my bill, and I had to listen to the automated bitch drone on for 10 minutes before she let me say anything. I don't need to hear "We appreciate your call" and "Thank you for choosing T-Mobile". I know they don't appreciate my call, or they wouldn't be making me wait. I do not have time to carry on a one sided conversation with a recording, I'm not a bored housewife with no one to talk to. I have places to go and things to do. And God forbid I call from a crowded coffee shop or the office and some one's talking in the background or I'm trying to type while on hold. If a strong wind blows through, the auto-whore thinks I told her that I wanted to go back to the main menu and then I have to start the whole process all over again. And they never give you the option upfront to talk to a live person, that's the last resort. The damn thing will hang up on you before it'll put you through to a "customer care representative." Then I get on the phone with a real person, and by that point I'm so angry that I'm screaming at them like they're deaf and swearing them black and blue for asking me the same fucking questions for the tenth time. Yes, I am aware that I can access my account online. I'm not retarded, I wasn't trying to access the Internet by calling you, obviously I wanted to talk to a live person. No, I do not want to go over my bill, I just want to pay it. Why the hell did I have to press a million keys to navigate my way to you if all you're going to do is ask me the same shit over and over and over again?
Then they have no answers for you and suggest you go online to the FAQ's section of your profile. And my question is, why the hell are they paying these people? What are they here for, to tell you that they can't help you? To give you attitude because you're interrupting their hundredth game of solitaire? C'mon Buddy, I don't like a lot of our clients either, but I don't act as though they're inconveniencing me when I have to actually do my job and help them with what they need. But the best is when they ask you to calm down, as if you're going to jump through the phone and harm them. Believe me, if it was possible, everyone in the cable industry would be in serious trouble. I know people who have broken their remotes waiting to talk to someone. I know people who have broken their TVs waiting to talk to someone.
And then there are the freaks who enjoy talking to the auto-voice. I guess those are the ones too cheap to pay for phone sex.
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
A Spoonful Of Sugar
It's come to my attention that some people who read my blog may be offended by the content, or may read it and think I'm a bitch. Fair enough. I didn't start this blog expecting that everyone who reads it is going to love it, agree with it, or find it all that funny. It's not always meant to be funny. It's also not meant to cater to any one's taste or sense of humor. In fact, when I started writing this blog, I set myself to the task of being unPC, and for a reason: People's opinions are not censored. They are what they are. Opinions can be hurtful, they can be offensive, they can be insulting, and they can be a revelation. Our worlds are censored enough without having to worry that what we truly think of it is inappropriate because it may not be what people like to hear.
The only names I've used in my blog are those of people in the public eye. I have never used the names of anyone that I know personally, or that someone has told me about. There's a reason for this also, and that reason is that I don't think it's necessary to call anyone out. Yes, I have a boss. So does everyone else I know. I have a family, so does everyone else I know. I have ex boyfriends, and friends, and so does everyone else I know. The people I write about come from a lot of different sources. They come from bosses, families, and friends that I know, and they come from bosses, families, and friends that people around me know and have. If you read something in this blog that you think is about you, consider why that is before you ask me about it, because all I'm going to say to you is "Your name isn't on it." Everyone out there has something about themselves that's embarrassing, or that they would rather not have pointed out to them in the form of an accusatory rampage, and that includes me, but we don't live in a world where everyone likes us all the time and has only nice things to say about us. And there's only two ways to handle that. You can either choose to laugh off or ignore what you don't like or know isn't true, or you can give in to the curiosity and keep going back for more.
I don't want anyone who reads this to think that they can't throw criticism my way. I welcome it, and any writer who doesn't is doing themselves a disservice. But, criticism and hypocrisy are two different things. Before you suggest that someone lightens up on the cynicism, look in your own backyard. While I may write about people, and what bothers me about them, I would NEVER dream of saying those things to them directly or to one of their friends unless the situation called for it and I knew they would take it in good stride as I would if someone were to say the same to me. But, I know people who would not only dream of doing it, but think nothing of the consequences it has on the people around them, including their spouse. If you find someone annoying, or think they're a pill popping maniac, or believe them to be below you for whatever reason, that's fine. But do not, unless you want to alienate everyone around you, say it to them or to one of their friends thinking that it's acceptable behavior. Toddlers know better. And it does get back to the person it was being said about. That's how you lose clients, that's how you lose friends, that's how you run your reputation into the ground.
My blog is not going to change. And I make no apologies for what's in it.
The only names I've used in my blog are those of people in the public eye. I have never used the names of anyone that I know personally, or that someone has told me about. There's a reason for this also, and that reason is that I don't think it's necessary to call anyone out. Yes, I have a boss. So does everyone else I know. I have a family, so does everyone else I know. I have ex boyfriends, and friends, and so does everyone else I know. The people I write about come from a lot of different sources. They come from bosses, families, and friends that I know, and they come from bosses, families, and friends that people around me know and have. If you read something in this blog that you think is about you, consider why that is before you ask me about it, because all I'm going to say to you is "Your name isn't on it." Everyone out there has something about themselves that's embarrassing, or that they would rather not have pointed out to them in the form of an accusatory rampage, and that includes me, but we don't live in a world where everyone likes us all the time and has only nice things to say about us. And there's only two ways to handle that. You can either choose to laugh off or ignore what you don't like or know isn't true, or you can give in to the curiosity and keep going back for more.
I don't want anyone who reads this to think that they can't throw criticism my way. I welcome it, and any writer who doesn't is doing themselves a disservice. But, criticism and hypocrisy are two different things. Before you suggest that someone lightens up on the cynicism, look in your own backyard. While I may write about people, and what bothers me about them, I would NEVER dream of saying those things to them directly or to one of their friends unless the situation called for it and I knew they would take it in good stride as I would if someone were to say the same to me. But, I know people who would not only dream of doing it, but think nothing of the consequences it has on the people around them, including their spouse. If you find someone annoying, or think they're a pill popping maniac, or believe them to be below you for whatever reason, that's fine. But do not, unless you want to alienate everyone around you, say it to them or to one of their friends thinking that it's acceptable behavior. Toddlers know better. And it does get back to the person it was being said about. That's how you lose clients, that's how you lose friends, that's how you run your reputation into the ground.
My blog is not going to change. And I make no apologies for what's in it.
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