If you reallyreally have to, I was told by dog trainers and vet techs to never get in the middle; grab a tail and start dragging a dog away. Hopefully there’s someone else there who can drag the other.
Grab a tail or better yet grab their back legs (up at the hip is best, if you can get your hands between the leg and body) run backwards and keep running until you can fling the dog away from you. (assuming of course it’s not an enormous dog). If you can break it up for a second and keep them from making eye contact again you can usually get them separated
Sometimes water works, sometimes ammonia or citronella spray. Or take a piece of furniture to physically separate them.
And yes PLEASE go get checked out! Antibiotics are a must, as is a good cleaning (esp for punctures) and possibly stitches for lacerations.
Hey, teacher(s)*, it would be aces if you could try to spell my grandson’s name spelled correctly–especially on the spelliing folder that you gave him. Michael is a common name and we didn’t funk it up from the original.
I sent a note to school, but either you haven’t checked his folder yet or are just sending the note back home each day–you certainly haven’t fixed his folder. I feel for you having to deal with the Mikeala** spelling, but that doesn’t mean you get to fuck up on my boy’s stuff.
*I don’t know if his regular teacher also filled out a bunch of his reading/spelling teacher’s stuff or if both of them are unable to correctly copy a name from a list.
**I saw this name written on one of the desks in the reading teacher’s classroom; I don’t know if the teacher fucked that up too or if the parents did that to their daughter.
Maybe the teachers went to the same school that you did.
Yup. Even when my cat was screaming, I still stopped to get a broom in case I had to smack another cat.
As someone with a name that is commonly spelled two legitimate ways (cey or cy), I’m thinking he’ll just have to get used to a lifetime of mis-spellings. There’s a woman who emails me regularly - she can see how my name is spelled one inch away from where she’s mis-spelling it, but she still screws it up.
In other words, I sympathize with your rant.
This is minor, but annoying.
I have a wireless router by Belkin. I’d like to change the name of it, to something fun like FBI Van. The router setup, that is supposed to have no password, won’t let me login. I tried resetting. I tried unplugging. I tried resetting again. I try googling for ideas. I get the same shit I’ve already tried. I go to the Belkin site and use their chat. Led through the same steps, except with having to repeat myself a lot more. She’s no help. I suppose you get the support you pay for, and this is a minor issue, but it’s annoying.
I have a Belkin router…it came with some kind of pre-programmed ID/password on a little card that slips into the base. I was able to change it after the initial login.
:smack: Fuck, I hate when that happens…you’ll have to trust that these errors happened while I was making my rant seem less batshit insane. And if these teachers went to the same shit high school I went to, I will give them a pass–they would be lucky to spell their own names correctly after going there. I anticipate that this post will have even more errors, because that’s how I roll.
He brought home his folder yesterday–the incorrect spelling was crossed out and the correct spelling written below that. The spelling problem brought to the teacher(s) attention, I will probably go buy him a new folder and write his name nicely so he doesn’t have a shitty-looking folder with the reminder that teacher can’t spell.
This is kinda why I went batshit insane and then decided to dial it back. People spell my name wrong all the time–I have a [del]weird[/del] non-standard name that is an adjective that ends with ‘y’ but my parents used ‘i’ when they stuck me with it. As an adult, I let it go. As a kid, I remember how much I hated it when my teachers–the people who would be on my shit for spelling things wrong–could not get my name right, especially when they would end it with ‘ie’ instead of ‘y’.
It appears that my letting it go only applies to my name–I am still quite ready to be offended on my grandson’s behalf. 
I’m going to skip over my rant about knees getting older, and go right to the anti-rant of “ain’t it great to be living in a decade where they can fix 'em?”
After two years of limping with a torn meniscus, my knee locked up and down I went. So I went in for knee surgery yesterday afternoon. Minor arthroscopy with minimal anesthesia, and my pain’s at a 1 out of 10 today! It’s been at a 7.
I’m walking normally, and I just walked up a flight of stairs (without planting both feet on each tread at a time, and using the handrail like a rope tow) for the first time in a year!
Ok, ok, I’ll keep it iced and elevated and watch Hulu Plus all day (I’d planned to catch up on The Office and Arrested Development), but I feel like I could go for a jog!
Well, maybe, but the kid’s name is Michael, ferchissakes.
Michael was the most common boys’ name in the United States every single year from 1961 through 1998, when it was overtaken by Jacob. It was then in second place every year for ten years, and is currently in third.
If a school teacher, who must see at least a few Michaels every single year of his or her working life, can’t spell the name, maybe a new occupation is in order.
I totally agree with you. My point was mostly that Michael is a commonly mis-spelled name - he’s going to see it spelled Micheal about a billion times in his lifetime. Should he? No way. Is he? Yup.
Today is shit, and I want to whinge.
Went to a friend’s birthday last night (which isn’t a rant- that bit was fun), and though I didn’t get very drunk, I only slept for about 4 hours, then woke up feeling utterly awful -and sore, as I slipped over where someone had spilled a drink. Threw up before breakfast, then realised someone had spilled water on the counter, right next to where I’d left my bread, so it was too soggy for toast. Didn’t have anything else breakfast suitable bar coffee, so just went back to bed, even though I couldn’t sleep and I started feeling sick if I lay down.
The boiler’s broken, and I needed to wash my hair before it crawled off by itself, so I had to full up the bath with the kettle, and feebly try to get clean in about 4 inches of lukewarm water. Someone was supposed to be coming round to fix it, but he didn’t, so it’s going to be at least monday with no hot water now.
Then I decided to go to my allotment (as featured in this thread last week, about my lovely masturbating neighbour down there). I warned the nice lady neighbour about it, as she happened to be down there, and I kind of wish I hadn’t- apparently, he’s not the only creepy guy down there lately- there’s been a guy standing outside the fence just watching her and the other lady neighbour as they go about their gardening. Apparently, he stood there and watched one of them for four hours last week, so she’s somewhat disturbed, and now I’ve told her about the other guy, who has a key so can get inside the fence, she’s thinking of quitting the whole thing, which is just crap, because she’s really nice, and she’s been really enjoying it for years.
I’d been asked to call the police next time I saw the wanking guy down there, so they could come and talk to him about his being a creepy old perv, and he did show up just as I was about to go home. I went and sat in the shed and called them- and got asked if I could come down to the gate, so I could let the police in. So I went down to the gate, and sat there in the car, and waited…
And waited.
After an hour, I gave up, called them, and went home.
Got home, and they called back and apologised for not sending anyone, and asked if I could give them a statement. I pointed out I’d already given them a statement, last week. The person on the phone asked for a description of the guy (which I’ve already given them twice) and I pointed out the thing that’s been bugging me all week; he’s a council tenant, wouldn’t it be a bit easier to ask the council for his details, which they have on record, and they’ve already told me they’re happy to pass on to the police, rather than asking me to call whenever I see him, and hope that happens at a time they’re not busy? I suggested that last week as well, but she seemed struck by the novelty of the idea, and said that sounded like a much better idea than the stupidity I’d just wasted an hour in…
Oh, and then I realised that because I spent so long sitting outside the allotments, I’d missed the pet shop, and I’m out of mouse food. So now the mice are having a crap day too.
sigh
Too long, don’t read.
My mom passed away on Friday. I’ve spent the last few days working with my stepdad setting up funeral arrangements and such. A private affair – she had few friends and we’re distant from remaining family – but still ridiculously expensive. I deferred to the stepdad on certain things. I’m not sentimental, preferring donation of one’s body to science (even a body farm), but for understandable reasons he wants her to be buried nearby so he can be close. Setting up arrangements is a horrible thing, akin to being ripped off simultaneously by a shady auto mechanic and a used car dealer. I had to walk out of the stupid casket showroom, crying both out of mourning and out of sheer anger at the stupid reduction of an emotional time to a commercial endeavor. “This one is very beautiful, see the blue color? And it has doves on the liner. Only $4,995!” Still. We set things up in a manner that will allow the few people who care to say goodbye. $4000 casket. $1500 vault. $2000 plot. $1000 “opening/closing fee.” Assorted fees for makeup, hairstyling, dressing her body, storage, funeral home usage, hearse, body pickup. Over $10,000 for a single day’s rite that will be of benefit to perhaps four people who mourn her.
Stepdad called me in tears this morning. Turns out there’s no life insurance. No funeral benefits from work. No pre-paid funeral plan. She’d been sick for a long while, medical insurance had run out, savings and retirement funds had been used up. There are outstanding medical bills, too. Massive medical bills. I’m sure there’ll be a charge from her doctor for signing her death certificate, too.
She’s my mom. I told him I’d take care of it.
I’ve been saving up since graduating my universities in December 2010. I had enough saved to get a reliable car and start grad school in the new year. Go for my MS in math and MA in philosophy and plot my way towards a PhD in one or both fields. I spent the last few weeks getting my ducks in a row, thankful that I was finally going to get to escape the crappy unskilled labor marker I’ve been mired in for nearly 25 years. Proud that I’ve gone from being a homeless junior-high drop out from a family in poverty to the top graduate in two programs at two different schools, where I have professors stopping me on campus (yeah, I still go there after having graduated, doing volunteer tutoring and mentoring when I’m not at work) begging me to return. I did it out of pocket and with service-based scholarships. No free money for me, I put in 20 hours a week of supplemental instruction at the university to get those scholarships. I worked 40+ hours a week on third shift and maintained a 4.0 throughout the entire endeavor. I was proud of myself, and proved to everyone who told me while I was growing up that I would never amount to anything that they were dead wrong.
An hour or so ago, I emailed the two professors who have been my mentors and champions these last few years. Grad school is off the table. My savings are wiped out just from paying the upfront costs at the cemetery and funeral home. The retirement fund from my job that I was counting on to buoy me financially through grad school? Wiped out once the bills arrive. If I can’t negotiate the medical bills down, I’m going to have to get a second job and work for several years while severely curtailing my lifestyle in order to pay things off. If I do negotiate them down, I might be able to get by with one job, but I certainly won’t be able to make it on a grad school stipend.
I’m not mad. I loved my mom. This isn’t my stepdad’s fault and I don’t begrudge him for this. It’s my own choice to take on this burden. But damn if I don’t feel like the universe isn’t conspiring to keep me in the gutter where I belong.
Student Driver, you made me realise my mini rant is pointless. I hope things turn out as well as they can for you.
Student Driver…I’m so sorry to hear that…
hugs
There’s no chance that your bachelor degrees could at least give you a step up from your current job still? I apologize if I’m misunderstanding the scenario.
I do apologize for posting a heavier “mini-rant” than is probably warranted in this thread. But, I really was not mad enough to have a full-on rant. (I could have done a full-on one if I’d limited myself to the commercial aspects of funeral planning… $1000 to dig a hole in the ground?!) I’m actually handling the death well. More frustrated than anything. And feeling a bit guilty that I’m upset over relatively minor issues, while handling the major stuff okay. Bah.
Anyway. I have been in the job-search market for a while, and had a couple promising chances for better jobs wherein I would actually be using my degrees. At one firm, the folks working in the department where I’d have been placed were literally excited about the prospect of landing me. However, HR and other folks involved in the hiring process hadn’t been too thrilled when I admitted that I planned on returning to school to go for higher degrees. I think I looked like a risky hire, as I’d just run off after 6 months to get back into academia. I’m still in the job-hunt mode, but in any case , I’ll be working for a while to pay off the newly accrued debt and to build up enough savings to act as a cushion for when I do go back to school.
I’ll get there, eventually. Just not in the “few months” I’d been planning on earlier this week. It’s back to “maybe in a couple of years.” I started this path in my education in 2002, and it’s just a kick in the teeth to get a setback that’s going to stretch this process out even longer.
I’m sorry to hear all of that, Student Driver. That is one big ol’ pile of suck. You obviously don’t belong in the gutter - I don’t think anyone belongs in the gutter, but you especially not.
Sympathies to Student Driver. Frankly, you sound like a better person than I am from your choices here.
(And now for something completely different…)
Petty mini-rant, because it’s Monday morning and someone’s got to:
Fuck whoever put a bunch of garbage out on the curb with our garbage pickup this morning. They stuck a bunch of mixed recyclables and non-recyclables in our co-mingled recycling bin, and an extra bag next to the bin. Our single regular garbage can was stuffed full, so they couldn’t put anything in there. We have to pay extra (by putting on purchased stickers) for any garbage above those two bins, so hopefully the garbage men won’t leave the asshole’s extra garbage behind. I had to leave for work and had no time to fix it.
Most of what we got was recyclables from what I can tell, which is odd since we get a huge recycling bin in this town. So, if our dumper was dumping not because they’re too goddamned cheap to pay for garbage service but because they’re trying to hide those empty 1.5 L bottles of wine - fuck you and your liver too. Wake up before you’re spitting up blood one morning due to your failing liver or I confront you out front of my house with a camera.
My son’s middle name is Michael. He’s 23 now and I still need need to double check my spelling anytime I have to write out his full name. I have no idea why this name is so hard for me to spell.
Student Driver have all of the services been provided yet? I was watching a special just last night on funeral homes in the US and the appalling way they rip off families in mourning. If you or someone you trust can bear to spend a few hours calling around you might be able to save some money.
Public service note: Seriously people preplan these things. Make decisions when everyone is NOT emotionally devastated so you can’t get ripped off. Put your wishes in writing. A friend of mine just went through a similar situation with additional angry screaming family members as a bonus. Do not do this to your family.
Sorry about the mess, Student Driver.
Back to the land of mini:
Dear hotel chains with electronic keys: if the rooms have to be vacated at noon, do NOT set the keys to go useless before that hour. My key should have been working at 7:30am. It worked for the main building, but not for the secondary one where my room was located, therefore I know it wasn’t just a problem of it getting demagnetized, it was purposeful programming.
Dear receptionists at the aforementioned hotels: if a customer tells you that her key isn’t working and she can’t get back in her room, don’t say “it’s ok, your company already paid for it”. I wasn’t trying to get into the room to pay, the room is not the place where you pay for said room - I had run out for breakfast and an ATM trip and needed to get my suitcase!
Dude needed a dose of coffee bigger than himself 
but then, I’d had to hunt him down in the hotel’s dining room…