Please fight ignorance: what is E.I.?
Engineering Intern.
In the US, after completing a bachelor’s degree in an engineering field, you’re eligible to take the Fundamentals of Engineering exam. Upon passing the exam, you become an Engineering Intern (EI) or Engineer In Training (EIT). The specific title varies by state.
After passing the FE exam and working for fourish (also varies by state) under the supervision of a Professional Engineer (PE), you’re eligible to take the Principles of Engineering exam. Upon passing that, you become a registered PE, capable of signing off on and taking legal responsibility for engineering documents.
So, for example, I’m a power engineer for a utility in Minnesota. I design substations, but, as an EIT, any designs I create must be reviewed and signed by a licensed PE, who then is legally responsible for them, should anything go wrong.
Thanks Silophant!
Personally what makes me feel a certain sisterhood with serial killers is the assumption that being unmarried and having no children of the body means I have no life, no friends and no family. Only because there are certain relatives I wouldn’t mind not having, that doesn’t mean I do not have them! Maybe those people would like to take said relatives off my hands, thus improving that life I actually do have? (I intend to keep the relatives I do like, thank you very much)
… So a while back my father tried to run away. Before he did so, he told my sister about his plans, and my sister decided not to betray his confidence - i.e. she didn’t tell my mother. After my dad’s temporary escape, my mother saw my sister’s silence as a valid casus belli and promptly declared war on both my sister and her husband. After that, my sister’s husband made sure not to show up for my birthday, my dad’s birthday and my brother’s wedding. And now both my sister and her husband decided to spend Christmas elsewhere, which has led to renewed hostilities from my mother’s side, and - surprise surprise - a generally shitty atmosphere all around.
Merry Christmas everyone! 
The worst part is that I can’t even legitimately bitch slap them into next week - most of them are clearly and obviously well-meaning.
They are still less infuriating than the cadre of people who - generally in casual conversation - find out that I do not have children and then immediately begin demanding specific details of my medical condition and then offering unsolicited medical advice to me. The medical condition that causes my infertility is also trying pretty damn hard to actively kill me - I’m not taking medical advice from the lady behind me in the checkout line at Target who thinks that her cousin’s second daughter had that and going on a diet of tea and cabbage cleared it right up over my board-certified and highly trained endocrinologist, but thanks for that.
I tell people who get too nosy that I’m perfectly happy with recreational fucking.
Speaking of fucking.
Fucking UPS again!! Quit leaving my fucking packages on the front fucking step where anyone can come up and grab them!! I have a designated space I want them to be left which is no hardship and maybe 10 more steps to get to. You would know this if you bothered to open the screen door and read the note but, I’m assuming, you just drop them and run not even bothering to try to knock.
I hope the damn thing is still there when I get home.
Ten steps? Are you kidding? That’s WAY too much work. It’s too hard for mine to even ring the doorbell, which is right above where they leave packages!
I’ve never liked Elf on the Shelf – it has always felt weirdly Big Brother to me.
Then the “creative” Elf on the Shelf Facebook posts came, complete with EOTS in different outfits.
Now, people are dressing themselves or their spawn up as Elf on the goddamn friggin’ Shelf.
Just stop. Please.
Grinch
Want!
C’mon, Santa, I’ve been a good girl!
Bilateral Achilles tendonitis is killing me. Been to p.t. 9 times, ortho doc several times, taped my ankles, got inserts and heel pads, using hot and cold packs, tired of taking pain pills just to get to sleep. Bah, humbug.
The only thing that makes me feel worse is Donald Trump.
I somehow managed to smash my pinky toe into the doorjamb last night. It doesn’t seem to be broken, thank Og, but it is pretty banged up and it hurts to wear a shoe. So much for my normal Saturday run.
Adding my voice to the Hurting Chorus, I’ve had a knot in my back all day that won’t release. Every time I move my right arm it huuuuuuuurts. 
My Amazon packages hadn’t been delivered so I went online to check. Turns out I forgot to change the shipping address and they went to our permanent address in California instead of our temporary address here in Connecticut.:smack: We’ll be back in CA in a few weeks, but present-opening on Christmas Day is going to be pretty pathetic.
I’ve been having so much trouble lately with mail-related things, too. I’m still waiting for a package I ordered at the end of November/beginning of December, but maybe it’s just taking longer than usual because of the Christmas holiday. At least, I hope that’s what happened, and it hasn’t gotten lost in the mail somewhere, causing me to have wasted money on it.
I really like that one, consider it stolen!
Missy is mad at me. She was getting yummy deli chicken twice a day so she would take her pills. Now she is done with the pills and isn’t getting her treats anymore. This morning, she hairballed on my boot.
Anti-rant: I successfully roasted chestnuts. I didn’t set the oven on fire or cut off a finger or anything. (I might have singed my finger peeling them, but that’s a small price to pay for success in the kitchen.)
They were pretty good. I’ve never had them before so didn’t know what to expect. My BB likes them, the cats ignored them and Westley begged like she’s never begged for food before. I gave her one and she gave me that look. You know, the one that says “What is this shit?”
I suggest that you spend as much time as possible following Trump, then enjoy the relief when you break away each day.
I hope you didn’t get yourselves a puppy…
Don’t Canada Post have package tracking?