Rant:This just fucking happened: Me: Hey [Juicette], next time you get yourself some seltzer, can you please put the cap back on? The whole bottle went flat. Juicette: Whatever, its not a big deal. Me: I know its not a big deal, but since I just bought it...nevermind just please close it up next time. Juicette: Why are you giving me attitude? I said I would do it next time. Me: Im not giving you attitude, Im just asking you to make sure you cap it up so we dont waste money every time you want one glass of seltzer. Juicette: OKAY I GOT THE POINT SELZTER-NAZI, QUIT PICKING ON ME ABOUT IT. *storms off and slams door.*
Rave: I was sitting in the waiting room of a doctor's office in north Dallas where my wife had an appointment. I go to the "Around Me" app on my phone and find a NY style deli about 3 minutes away. $85 dollars later, I am one happy ex-New Yorker. I can't wait for the follow up in two weeks.
RAVE: After 6 months of dealing with his incompetent bullshit, they've finally fired that fucking douche! RANT: My shithead boss spent the first 2 months that douche was here telling people he was better than me. Still hasn't fucking apologized.
RANT: I really need to get my own place. I adore my roommate, she's one of my best friends in the world, but I don't like the side eye I'm getting for having microwave popcorn and whiskey for dinner. Like having a frozen Lean Cuisine is so much better.
Rave: flights cancelled today! Tomorrows hell brief is bumped to next week. Rave: today's flights are scheduled for tomorrow, so all the planning is already done and we're not doing the brief, only talking a step by step about the exact flight steps, which is easy.
RANT: I've been to some stupid schools in the Army, but this one is by far the gayest. Spending my evenings memorizing a speech that, BY REGULATION, I'm not allowed to recite by memory strains patience. Add to that time standards that are dangerously irresponsible, and it all makes for about zero fucks being given.
Rant: Movers were supposed to be here from 10a-2p sometime. They never showed. They called around 4:15 to say that they would be there within the hour. Well, my clock says 5:45 and I'm seething. I have waited 2 fucking months for this day to come. I have slept on a blow up mattress and eaten with plastic spoons. Bring me my stuff, assholes! Edit: speak of the devil. OUR STUFF IS HERE!!
Huge fucking rant: Since they got here after 6, the apartment complex won't let them deliver. Strike one. Strike two would be the company rep calling me and telling me in such a sweet voice that we'll probably be charged for a re-delivery because they tried unsuccessfully today. What bitch? It is NOT my fault that your company over scheduled your movers and made it impossible to do the job properly. It is NOT my fault that I didn't tell you you couldn't deliver past 6 WHEN YOU SAID YOU'D BE HERE FOUR OR MORE HOURS BEFORE THAT TIME. Of course I explained all this to her but we'll see what actually happens tomorrow. In summary, I am fightin' mad. They can just TRY to charge us a fee for being fuckups. Just. Fucking. Try.
Rant: I feel like I was sent a dick pic by Life today. Spoiler Started off by losing a day's pay. Why? Because the school I work for let out for a student's funeral. (drunk-driving accident on Saturday, which I had to take the 911 call for...and that's when shit really started hitting the fan, but let's just focus on today) So then I have to go to the student funeral and feel like an asshole for not feeling any grief/sadness/emotion related to the deceased. I just got to spend two hours feeling awkward and desperately trying not to relive when my friend died in high school. I failed at that. So I channeled all that into anger and resentment towards the expectation of grief, how much bullshit Psalm 23 is given the circumstances, how I didn't need to see the same slideshow 5 times that was full of unflattering pics apparently taken from her facebook (duckface, kissy face, gang sign), or a picture of just her legs that said "sexy legs", how idiotic it is for a family request the attire for said funeral to be "comfortable" just so they can wear the grubbiest clothing ever (highlights include crocs, a t-shirt that had a rifle with the caption "got dinner", an abortion of a shirt that was Affliction in style, but made with NASCAR lettering, and a shit ton of KU t-shirts), and the sharing session where people decided that they should read some poems. To sum up, a funeral is not the place to be for someone who loathes the pious and the lugubrious. I know this, but I had to go lest people think I'm a douchebag. Add in petty office politics and it's basically the worst time ever for me. The day took a lull here. It picked up at dinner when I had to deal with my father's outright bigotry regarding homosexuality and Mormonism of all things. He was also super pissed off about the post office. I did a good job of not contemplating the fact that the vast majority of social interactions I have on a daily basis involves me tempering most everything I say with the knowledge that if anyone knew my true position on anything I would be shunned and burned at the stake. Then I got to talking to someone about what appeared to be heart malfunctions I was having...and between their urging, my frantic googling, and being a fat fuck I decided I needed to go to the hospital. Of course a guy from my part-time job was there. And I know he won't have anything resembling a tight pair of lips. So they check me out (EKG, chest x-ray, bloodwork) and they can't figure out what the deal is. I of course look and feel like a fool for having people woken up to tell me i'm mostly healthy. A fool who is now going to pay a considerable sum of money--even with insurance when you look at it in through the perspective of making $8 an hour. So I get discharged and my truck barely...just barely starts. I have no idea what the issue is there, but I know it will be expensive. I'm thinking fuel pump. More money I don't have. And I'm not even sure how I'm going to get around tomorrow if it doesn't start here in a few hours. All of this on top of the general slings and arrows and I just want to crawl into a hole for a while.
Rant: Sitting through class last night with a fresh cold was miserable. You know that girl who sneezes so hard she shakes the floor, then does that twenty times in a row? That was me. Also, I have wicked tissue burn. Drugs. I needs them. Rant: So. many. papers. Rave: Manhattan is finally supposed to get some nice weather this weekend. Going to attempt to skateboard, probably going to crash and gravely injure myself!
Rave: Sat on a kid's Eagle board of review. In reality, it's a check in the box; there's pretty much no way to fail it. We don't tell him that, though. He was nervous as fuck. It's interesting to be on the other side of the table. Rant: I now regret gaffing off my Eagle project and not getting it. Rave: Went out for dinner with my former Scoutmaster and the rest of the leaders in the troop. Drinking ensued. I didn't have to pay for shit. Rave: Going to Rhode Island today to see my brother. Rant: The girl I know there is dating someone. Rave: My brother has other cute friends. Rant: My mom gave me a bottle of whiskey and said, "I don't like this, but you might." I tried it. It's possibly the most disgusting thing I have ever had. They probably torture people at Gitmo with this shit. I threw it out. God fucking damn it. Spoiler Oh hey, I'm going to take crappy whiskey and then put MAPLE FUCKING SYRUP in it! What, that's not a good idea?
Rant: Finals. I've been studying my ass off for the last three weeks. I've got three finals down and one more to go. I'm ready for this shit to be over. Rave: Last final for the year is tomorrow. Rave: Got a sweet externship for the summer with the prosecutor's office back home. Even though it's not a paid position I'll get to go to court every day and receive course credit for something I would have done anyway.
Rave: Finals are over! I feel like a huge weight has been lifted. Rant: One of my friends didn't make the grades this semester and is getting kicked out of the program. (Understandably), she didn't tell any of us she was in trouble until like a week ago, and we've been studying like crazy with her to help since then. Guess it wasn't enough. I wish she asked for help sooner, and I'm really sad she's leaving.
RANT My coworkers are just such petty busybody's. Usually I just ignore it but sometimes it is really really fucking annoying. And following is a small example of the daily bullshit. I work in doctor's office. Where patient's checkout is also where the charts and lots of supplies are kept as well as a couple of desks, one for an administrative type and one that my nurse or I will sit at. This is also conveniently located for me to review charts, write prescriptions as the patient checks out, etc. Well the worst of the worst is the administrative person that sits in a desk right by the doorway. Until about two weeks ago, there was a trashcan located in that doorway. Now it is located under her desk. I finally asked if there was a reason why it wasn't accessible like it has been in the past, you know, just in case anybody else wants to throw something away. Of course the answer was "because it is mine, you can use the one in the other room". It is a fucking trashcan and you are getting territorial over it? It's the little things that drive me to drink.
Rave: NSFW [rnsfw]Once she had pissed on the test she knew it would be negative, as she mensed all over it.[/rnsfw]
Rant: Sick. Coughing, sneezing, the works. Rant x2: I was on the train today, sitting in the quiet car as per usual, and I had a coughing attack. Cue dirty looks and since I was trying to keep quiet, I threw my back out. Now I'm sitting here experiencing the worst back spasms I've ever had. Rave: Leaving early. I have muscle relaxers at home. Score!
Rant: My co-workers looked up the lyrics of, "Rumor has it", and are singing along at their top of their lungs. Shoot.Me.Now.
RANT: Ahahahahahaha! Now I've heard it all! Shy Bladder Syndrome is going to be classified as a disability in America. Therefore, if you have it, your employer has to provide you with a private bathroom. This is hilarious! Who DOESN'T have this made up ridiculous syndrome? I thought Teenage Oppositional Defiance Disorder (where a teenager doesn't like authority...imagine) was bad. Now this. I love America but we will really create a diagnosis for anything just to skirt manning up in this country. Wow.