Stop fucking lying to me! I am not an idiot and I can tell when you’re lying - especially when you’re denying doing something I FUCKING SAW YOU DO. Don’t tell me you were paying attention, because I SAW YOU FUCKING AROUND. Here’s a fucking PICTURE of you fucking around, even!* Don’t tell me you weren’t about to filch those stickers when you thought I wasn’t paying attention, because I SAW YOU. Don’t tell me you don’t have your belezhnik** with you, because when I search your bag and find it, I am going to write that you were fucking LYING to me in it, ever think of that?
Love,
Kyla
*I have a new camera. Everything is now an excuse to take a picture.
**A belezhnik is a little diary that all kids in the Bulgarian school system carry around with them. There’re spaces for the teachers to write grades and disciplinary notes in them, for the parents to read. Incredibly, half the time I ask to see a belezhnik, the kid has mysteriously misplaced it…somewhere! Or another teacher has it! Or they forgot it at home! Except…wait, isn’t that it right there in your backpack?! How did THAT happen?!
I sent an e-mail to someone. Just now. It had my name, spelled correctly, in three places:
in my e-mail address (thusly: myname@myemployer.ca)
in the field that pops up under Name in your inbox when you get my e-mail (My Name myname@myemployer.ca)
in the signature at the bottom of my e-mail (My Name; My Position; My Contact Information etc)
(for what it’s worth, it also appeared twice in the attachment)
… so why did you write back “Thanks My Neme”
?!?!?!
the worst part is that I’ve ranted about this on here so fucking often I’m sick of hearing myself do it. And yet it keeps happening! Gahhh!!
This particular case is exceptionally intolerable because this recent one was a brand new misspelling. I am accustomed to “My Nane” or “Ny Name” or “Mi Name” because a lot of people spell it that way; even though it appears three times on your screen I can understand that maybe you’re thinking of your dear childhood friend who shares my name but who spells it with an I instead of a Y.
But you have changed a VOWEL, a vowel whose most common pronunciation is precisely the way it appears in my name, and you have replaced it with a different vowel that absolutely changes the pronunciation of my name to something nonsensical, which is why NOBODY with this name spells it that way. NOBODY. I know this because I just googled your stupid spelling and got only two types of hits: one, “did you mean My Name?” and two, where they stupidly spelled it wrong in the meta tags so it got picked up by Google even though the actual person in question was spelled My Name.
Stop putting sound on your web site. If I go to your web site and it blasts sound at me, I will shut it down immediately. Whatever I might have bought, whatever I thought enough of to look up and go to your site, will remain unpurchased. If you must put sound on your site, make it so that I can start it myself, don’t launch it as soon as I get to your site.
I like at least one green vegetable in each meal. Call me crazy. This is sometimes difficult but around here it’s not a problem, considering all the Asian lunch places around, who can be relied upon to provide something with broccoli in it. Except when the customer ahead of me in line asks the counter lady to pick all the broccoli out of the mixed vegetables for him. This leaves me with the lovely combo of cabbage, onions and celery, all fine vegetables to be sure, but not sufficient to satisfy my craving for GREEN ones. That’s so not cool! What kind of a place does that? it’s like ordering the soup and asking them to pick out all the meat for you. Christ.
Circus peanuts. I can’t be the last person on earth who likes them, but it seems by their total absence from all candy shops in the area that this is exactly the case. A world where Mike and Ikes are sold everywhere, but circus peanuts nowhere, is not a world I want to live in.
Planning ahead. I am going to this event as a favour to you. I’m not getting anything out of it except that I want to help you. It is a rather significant complication for me as I have to arrange travel (including to another event that begins the same day yours ends) and dogsitting and various other things. So please. Please. I really need timely responses to questions like, “are these dates confirmed?” and “what time will the event be finished?” and such.
What Khadaji said. I am sure we’ve discussed this before. People who put sound on websites WILL be dragged into the street and shot. Even before people who pick the broccoli out of something that I want broccoli to be in.
You make stuff. Because you don’t like dealing with the General Public, we handle selling your stuff to them. We take orders, and fax you what to ship and to who. You ship it. You seem to have that part down pretty well, as we almost never have a customer call us to ask where the stuff you shipped them is. But you don’t give us any order confirmation or tracking. What’s worse, you don’t send us a bill for the stuff you shipped to the customer. You like to get paid, right? I faxed you a list of 10 of the PO’s we have that need invoices. You faxed back 8. I’m still missing two; one for November and one for December. Just what the fuck is your problem?
Dear engineers: please stop hiding the fucking case screws. My beloved alarm clock broke recently, and because its long out of warranty, I figured I’d simply fix it myself. Which would have been easy, except that two of the four screws that hold it together were hidden underneath the little rubber footpads. Goddamn it! I hate that shit. If I want to crack the case, I should be able to do it. Put a fucking “opening this voids warranty, motherfucker” sticker on if you wish, but don’t be all sneaky and shit.
Circus peanuts are vile, disgusting, repulsive lumps of inedible chemical nonsense. I love 'em.
As hard to find, and slightly less repulsive (but only slightly) are those jelly mint leaves. After a year of searching every damn convenience store, supermarket, Walmart and CVS in town, I finally found some. <bleah>
Yes, it’s a beginners’ curling league, and we allow for a certain amount of in-game instruction and coaching. No, this doesn’t mean you get to have a coffee klatch to discuss every shot. Throw the damn rock before my feet freeze to the ice!
AT&T Wireless: Yes, I know that the phone is FREE after the $50 mail-in rebate. Yes, I also know that my chance of actually getting the $50 from the mail-in rebate is approximately the same as the chances that God will appear before me and shower me with circus peanuts. Still, I dutifully print out the rebate form and carefully read the directions in order to better my chances of actually seeing the $50 that you dangle like carrots in front of consumers to make us think the phone will really be free.
Direction #1: include a copy of your receipt. Make sure the purchase date is visible.
No problem! I printed out the receipt when I bought the phone. They’re not going to get me on that one. pull out receipt Read it through. Read it through again. What the FUCK? Is there a date on it, anywhere? Well, yes, on the bottom, because I have IE set up to spit out the date in the footer. But is there a date on the fucking receipt? No.
I can’t help but think this is on purpose. AT&T can go fuck donkeys as far as I’m concerned.
I don’t have any other document with a date on it, and apparently I can’t get it from their web site (I tried). I’m not going to go through the living hell that is talking to an AT&T sales rep. I’m stuffing everything in an envelope and sending it off.
I think my chances of seeing that $50 is the same as Britney Spear’s chances of becoming a Nobel prize winner.
Hello, cold. Why, yes, I am enjoying having no energy, laying in bed like a slug, being incredibly hot, with the added bonus of sniffling and coughing. I also deeply enjoy drinking the cold medicine that was in the medicine cabinet that tastes like orange flavored liquid ass.
AMEN! If you have sound on your site, I will click the back button before the second note. If I went there to buy something, then you’re shit outta luck, 'cause I’m not going back. I’ll find it somewhere else. The polyphonic crap gets on my nerves worse than anything else.
To that person who thinks gardening is the answer-to-all-woes hobby for seniors, she who keeps telling me this sagely bit of advise everytime she sees me.
In case, you have not noticed, I live in that big, blocky thing with windows, that you go into every week to visit your parents. Notice that we do not have plots of land allocated to us for gardening. We only have access to a balcony which can accomodate a couple of flower pots at best. Caring for said flower pots does not constitute a hobby. Unless you consider staring at them for hours on end a hobby.
Besides, I can not stay for very long in the posture required to do serious gardening. I also refuse to stay under the sun doing this. And for the last time, I will not go buy that premium, miracle dirt of which you fodly speak. It’s heavy. I will not use it.
If you don’t stop with your redundant and unsolicited advise, I hope they MAKE you garden without any tools, every single day, when you’re my age (IF you even make it).
Listen, friend. I like you a lot, and we’re both in this town without a ton of friends, and we both like working in coffee shops. This is why we made plans to work in a coffee shop today. Because she doesn’t drive (which SUCKS in this town, I did it for a year) I drive us out to to the coffee shop she likes to go to. The plan was for us to go at 9 am, since she had a lecture at 1 pm back on campus.
9 am comes, and she calls saying she’s sorry, she just woke up. It takes her minimum of an hour and a half to get ready (:rolleyes:) so no working until after the lecture. She says she’ll call after. After the lecture, she calls and says sorry, her friend needs her to run errands. Fine, whatever. But her friend can drop her off at the coffee shop after, so I just drive out there (here, actually) by myself at 3. Fifteen minutes ago, she comes by with her friend. It’s too late for her to work, so she’s just here to say hi and grab some coffee.
So, I mildly pit my friend. Stop being so flaky, darnit! And get your butt out of the house when you say you will! I also twofold pit myself: first, I should stop making time-sensitive plans with her, I know she’s like this. Second, why the hell can’t I ever motivate MYSELF to work? Darn me for needing a work buddy at all.
Anyway, the end result was I didn’t work and didn’t even get out of bed until 2:30 pm. I’m also now at a coffee shop without free internet (which is rarely my first choice of a place to go to without a friend).
Seriously, who the fuck decides that the middle of the desert at 7,000 feet is a good place to build a city? There’s no air, no water, no level ground - absolutely nothing that’s remotely hospitable to human life! I spent a month (winter break) back east, where there is all of the above, in copious quantities. I’ve been back in Santa Fe for just over 24 hours and have already had two nosebleeds, and I know going to the gym tomorrow is going to be painful, because if you spend a month without access to a gym at sea level, then go back to working out at altitude, it’s going to suck. And the worst part? There’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
[TMI warning]
Dear uterus: it’s called a menstrual cycle for a reason. It’s meant to be a cycle, implying a certain degree of regularity. This unpredictable bullshit is for teenagers five years my younger, or women thirty years my senior. Cut it out, dammit.[/TMI]
Yes yes yes!!! This even happens to me on the Dope, for heaven’s sake. On several times, people responding to one of my posts refer to me as Kayla. I mean, it’s only four letters, and it’s RIGHT THERE IN FRONT OF YOU.
Every school district in Bulgaria is supposed to have a psychologist. Mine…doesn’t. So my third grader whose mom just died and is responding by acting out and making a commotion in every class? Is SOL. I don’t know what to do.
I appreciate you all wanting to help me. I really do. I’m the newest person on our shift and while I’m picking it up pretty quickly, I realize that there are some shortcuts which I need to learn.
However, there are some shortcuts I do not WANT to learn. I don’t see the point in making more tracks by taking shortcuts which could lead to more scrap. I’d rather have fewer tracks finished with no scrap.
How many times have we all been told - safety first, quality second, quantity third.
Also, if you’re going to start building on my machine because your machine is down for repairs and you’re bored, PLEASE DON’T FUCK UP MY SHIT!
I don’t mind you building on my machine. It gives me a break which I wouldn’t have had otherwise. But I’m proud of how few mistakes I’ve made in the 2.5 weeks I’ve been doing this job. I don’t want to find out after the fact that a mistake was made, I didn’t make it, but I get the credit for it because it’s my machine. So, feel free to build on my machine. But please double check yourself before you cure anything.
Note to a certain co-worker: A Ph.D. does not entitle you to make a mess and not clean it up. Having a Ph.D. does not mean you always know what the fuck you’re doing. Having a Ph.D. means that you should know to be careful before mixing volatile chemicals. :mad:
Fucking pneumonia! I’m sure WhyBaby has it again - same symptoms, same laboring to breathe, same crackling sound. That’s twice this winter. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Off to the pediatrician for an emergency visit.
And to make it worse, I promised a new to town Doper I’d take her thrift store shopping today, and now I can’t. I already bailed on her once because of scheduling. I feel like the worst Doper friend in the world, and we haven’t even met IRL yet! ARGH! Damn, I wonder if it’s too early to call her?