I have two months, so it’s not a rush. And I should be able to handle it all fine.
It just sucks to have to go looking, and to pack, and to move, when it’s not my own decision to do so.
Stupid internet setup in this country.
It’s bad enough with the caps and the pricing and the “we have to rely on Telstra to provision your service (even when we say we don’t, because there’s /always/ some portion of the service we have to go through them for)” and the lack of speed and yadda-blah-de-blah.
And I know that when you’re using prepaid internet, you’re going to get raped for rates vs. post-paid.
But it sucks - I need internet at my new house to connect with a new service provider. So I’ve purchased PrePaid wireless “broadband” (which is mega-slow, but let’s not get into that now). $40 gets me 2Gb usage. Measured against downloads AND upload. And my ADSL service is going to take anywhere between a week and 2 weeks to provision. Boo.
I pit jars of jelly that fall out of their bags and break on your driveway at half past ten at night.
I mini rant against stores running out of store brand peanut butter. All y’all suck.
Yes, kids in the row before me yesterday at the cinema, I know it’s hard to sit through a whole movie with an attention span barely cut out for YouTube clips. Still, you have to keep in mind that there’s probably someone who has more use for your organs than you do – a blind person could be made to see with your lenses, somebody with a failing heart could experience years of life more fulfilled than anything you’re likely to accomplish. I’m just saying.
And I want to pit the season 2 finale of Doctor Who for making me cry (I’ve been working my way from season 1 on Netflix). It was just so sad, having to be separated forever.
I never cry because of watching something on TV! Not even for movies when everyone one else is crying! But geeky British sci-fi does it? What’s the deal? I’ll have to blame it on PMS if I want to keep my dignity ever again.
Wait until you get to PST. That’s when the real fun starts, ha ha ha. (Although from what I’ve heard, my group got unusually shoddy and accusatory treatment. About two weeks before my group arrived in country, Peace Corps BG kicked out six volunteers for having a very naughty party. The ambassador reamed out the country director and told him to get the volunteers back in line. The result was that my group spent our PST practically under lock and key. It was SO unfair - we hadn’t done shit!)
ION: when you use the word “methinks”, you look like a pompous douchebag.
Also, WHERE ARE MY BLANK INDEX CARDS? I need to make flashcards!
I’ll give you a pass - I just watched the end of Season 1, and it was very emotional for me, too. Now I have to find Season 2.
I pit our cats, and the problems we’re having with the switchover from dry to canned food to help our one cat who was just diagnosed with diabetes:
[ol]
[li]Dear Sydney the tortoiseshell: I know you like the new (expensive) prescription diet canned food, but please don’t stuff yourself with so much that you hork it back up later. Especially please don’t do this in the dark front entryway so I don’t find it until I accidentally step in it. Yuck![/li][li]Dear BB the calico: I understand that the changeover is apparently impacting your digestion a bit, and making things at the other end a bit ‘runny’. But could you please try and keep your tail out of it? It’s no fun to have to chase you down and wipe your tail off.[/li][/ol]
So now I have to wait.
“The technician will be there between 0700 and 1200”
Joy.
Yeah, that one made me cry too.
If you weren’t already aware, you can watch Season 3 instantly.
The end of the last season of Torchwood also made me cry.
Do have my cats? Also, talk to your vet about other food options, there are less expensive canned foods that are as good (or better) than the prescription stuff.
Mimi (the tortie): Seth has done nothing to you, so stop being such a bitch to him for no reason. Also, stop taking my gloves. It’s cute, until I need to find them.
Seth (the long-haired-orange-tabby-likely-Maine-Coon-mutt-cat-diabetic: stop being a medical mystery. The diabetes, we could handle. But Cushing’s? Except now maybe it’s NOT Cushing’s (which is so rare in cats there isn’t even real treatment for it)? Stop spiking your blood sugar for no reason. We can’t afford a CAT (hah!) scan, so you’ll just have to give us more to go on, buddy.
I’m already there. I haven’t had work since winter break ended, so I’ve had quite a bit of free time to catch up on my queue.
What the fuck did you just do, self? Did you actually go on eBay again, and bid on something you don’t need, AGAIN? What the hell is wrong with you?
If you’re really attempting to collect on an unpaid debt, don’t just call a company out of the blue and demand to speak to their payroll department. Anyone who calls w/that kind of opening doesn’t know anything about my company. We have no “payroll department”. I write 3 payroll checks per pay period. So, asking for the payroll department, you’ve already alerted me that you’re cold calling for something. I demand to know why, you state “to collect an upaid debt” yea, that’ll work. Eventually you cough up the name of the person you’re attempting to collect on and it’s a name I don’t recognize. I’ve worked here for 30 years and can positively state that no one by that name has gotten a paycheck from here since at least 1991, and I don’t believe even before that. So, lots of luck but in the meantime, you’ve wasted a bunch of my time arguing w/me about needing to speak to payroll. etc. etc. etc.
Oh, and while I’m at it - don’t call me 3 days before you need a resume, expecting that I’ll have time to write one for you.
I know this is merely the Wolfgang Puck restaurant in O’hare, so I don’t expect a whole lot (they do make some good pizzas) but for the love of all that is holy, you should not be allowed to cook anywhere, let alone a Wolfgang Puck establishment if you cannot manage to fry an egg over hard. Is there any easier way to cook a fucking egg? And for that matter, all the fucking cooks in England, India and Dubai who can’t fry eggs over hard. What is wrong with you?
That doesn’t make much sense. AIUI, the what-color-is-your-parachute crowd is all about having your resume updated by the end of every week, 'cause you never know when something better will come along. Three days doesn’t seem like a short time to make sure it’s presentable.
Please do not use “urban legend” if you do not know what it means. (Snopes has a lovely glossary.) Do not use it to mean “fallacy” (a perfectly good word, underused these days) or similar. It has a very specific meaning — a type of folk narrative — which is lovely and useful. “Urban myth” is even stupider. I understand that the language evolves, and that common usage becomes correct usage, but why does it have to move in a stupid direction?
Fallacy.
Falsehood.
Untruth.
Folk belief.
Any of these are great.
Urban myth. Urban legend. Urban-fucking-anything. As a nod of respect to the venerable academic discipline of folklore, as a favor to me, please, just stop it. At least on these boards, whose mission of fighting ignorance doesn’t seem to extend to folklore terminology…
The Esurance chick’s pink hair is actually the tip of a penis.
The Levitra flame is actually a cunt.
There, I said it.
This annoyed me all day. Barrack Obama is the 44th president because Grover Cleveland is counted as the 22nd and 24th president. But Cleveland wasn’t two different people. So when Obama said “Forty-four Americans have now taken the presidential oath” he was wrong!
At another point someone said “44 peaceful transitions of power”. If president 1 to 2 is the 1st transition, then 43 to 44 is the 43rd transition. And I kept hearing little bits of trivia that was wrong, like Kennedy didn’t wear a hat and hurt the hat manufacturers.
Just little stuff that annoyed me during inauguration day.