People speaking loudly in public places is my Rage-Inducing Peeve. Coffee places (esp. in a college town) tend to be quiet. Many people are reading or studying… it’s the 21st century library.
I almost approached a quartet of silver-haired harpies and asked “Just wondering, do all of you live with husbands who are hard-of-hearing? Because I couldn’t help notice that each of you feel like you have to shout to be heard.”
And I almost asked one 30-ish guy “Have you not noticed that your mouth is only three feet from your date’s ear? Why would you have to use your ‘thirty feet away’ voice?” And then I’d turn to the young woman with him and say “You’re welcome.”
But I don’t. Damn my politeness! Thank Og for earbuds.
We’ve already started Xmas Family Drama. Youngest nephew is being extremely passive aggressive over where the festivities will be held and my sister’s decision to play the dice game for presents, claiming we’re trying to kill his wife. She has severe allergies, which we all understand. It’s not as if anyone had the idea to gift latex balloons full of nuts. And, FWIW, she and their children have not attended Xmas at my sister’s house in YEARS.
All of this has pissed off my daughter, who is having a difficult time to even schedule time off to come up here for Xmas, which is really bumming her out (first Xmas not living at home).
I’m at the point of saying screw it. Daughter, her boyfriend and I can order pizza and watch movies for Xmas.
Family. Bah humbug.
I’m vacationing in Jamaica, and yesterday I think I broke my toe or a bone in my foot, or maybe both. I stepped off a ledge in the water and hit a rock or something. We are not leaving until Thursday. I’m stuck in the condo until then. The only thing I’ve been doing so far this vacation is going down to the beach, and now I can’t even do that.
This is particularly irritating because in September I broke a toe on the other foot, and had only been buddy-tape free for 3 weeks.
At least the others I’m with are still having fun.
On the :dubious: side of life, I think the Dope’s advertisers have decided I’m a gay man.
On the good side, I asked Littlebro if he’s opened that second bank account for Mom (it’s a trick to help her save, think of it as an electronic piggy bank): he hasn’t and he thanked me for the nagging! Heck, if your Big Sis can’t nag you, who can… but damnit man, get that account open before she buys… I don’t know what, but something super expensive that she doesn’t need or even like, but can afford. [When she buys something expensive we don’t like but she does, hey, it’s her money; when it’s “oh but he was so nice! I didn’t want to make him feel bad!” that’s a fucking con].
No doctors in Jamaica? I’m sure the front desk could recommend one for you, and maybe get you buddy taped again, or a walking boot/cast - which would at least get you out of the room, if not into the water.
I don’t visit the doc for a broken toe at home, so I’m not hunting for medical care in Negril. I always have tape with me, so buddy taping occurred right after I finished the first icing.
Today, two of my toes are still swollen and I have an impressive bruise across the top of my foot, which is also still swollen. Maybe tomorrow things will be better. But a long walk on 7 mile beach is off the table.
This may be incidental, but ISTM that ALL of us are being gaslighted about the REAL way to spell “yogurt” (among other things). The Secret Masters of the Universe are diverting attention away from themselves by encouraging us to focus on “regional dialects/spelling/idiomatic expressions/etc.” so we’re at each others’ throats when we COULD be working together to bring down their cultural and economic hegemon–
'Scuse me a minute; I just saw a Facebook post with somebody talking about waiting their turn at the supermarket and standing ON line, instead of IN line. BRB.
Jesus Hopping Hornytoad CHRIST cat, will you SHUT UP? Stop trying to get into that cabinet! SHUT UP! GET OFF THE MANTEL!! SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUT …
Oh, fuck it. It’s late, I’m tired, and I’m going to bed. I love you, but there are times like now when I want to strangle you just to stop you from yowling for no reason and trying to get into places you know full well you’re not allowed to go into.
I know I’m way too late with this, but when one of my feline herd is on a mission for something and driving me nuts like that, I’ll dip a paw or two in the water bowl. Doesn’t hurt them and usually they are so incensed that they go sulk for a bit to clean up and forget the mission they were on.
And sometimes it backfires and I now have a damp-footed cat running over me …
I wish it worked that way here. My overlord loves playing in her water bowl. There’s nothing like walking into the kitchen and discovering most of the floor is covered in water and her bowl is almost empty. Usually, it’s discovered when I’m wearing socks. At 4am.
I discovered exactly how much my cat loved to play in water. He’d run through his cat door (installed by some previous owner) out into pouring down rain and be ecstatic. His enjoyment was such that I named him “Fish.”
Someone hit him with their car the other day. His lifeless body was laying right beside the driveway when I got home from work.
(As an aside, I have to believe that this was at least partially his own fault. Who gets hit by a car on a dead-end street? It’s not like someone was going 90mph through the subdivision to beat traffic)
For the third time since August, my mom is on standby to see if she will need to evacuate due to fire. She has never full unpacked from the first standby a few months ago, so that makes it easier. We are ready at a moment’s notice to head up there and help.
So much of our firefighting force is in Butte County fighting the Camp Fire, but they have deployed three air tankers (Tankers 88 and 88, Air Attack 210). Her neigbor called and can see the flashing lights, but cannot see flames. It seems to be on the next ridge that is only separated by a two lane highway.
I know worrying about if a fire will destroy her community is small compared to those who actually have lost everything, compared to the towns of Paradise that just doesn’t exist any more. But seeing the devastation of the Camp Fire and knowing there is every chance something like that could occur where my mom lives is very scary.
I have a chest cold. This is annoying for a few reasons. First because it’s the kind of cold where during they day I feel fine with an occasional cough. But the cough is so much worse at night that I wake up feeling like I’ve barely slept and my throat hurts from coughing. Second, because I’m supposed to go to a big Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow and I feel guilty about going if I’m still a plague carrier. Third, I’m scheduled for oral surgery on Monday. Minor surgery but requiring some sedation. This surgeon is annoyingly risk averse and I just know that if I show up with still a bit of a cough he’ll want to reschedule my procedure.
It seems absurd, but I want to complain about a service being TOO solicitous.
We used Home Advisor for the first time to find somebody to come to trim our trees. The guy who came out to do the estimate was very friendly, said what it would take and how much it would cost, and scheduled service to take place today. But in the meantime, we have gotten THREE emails from Home Advisor asking us how the service went. Since it hasn’t happened yet, I ignored the emails.
So last night, somebody named Shawn from Home Advisor called to ask how the service went, and I had to tell him that it hasn’t happened yet.
Well, this morning, I got an email from Home Advisor asking me how Shawn’s phone call went.
Accompanying the email was a photo of Shawn and
This should have died out in the 70s, if not the 60s, but it boggles my mind that in the 21st century there are still radio DJs who refuse to keep their drooling pieholes shut while the song is playing. At least half the DJs on BBC Radio 2 (I listen on their Android app) will break in in the middle of a song to make sophomoric “neer neer neer” sounds over the instrumental breaks.
Stop it. It’s not clever. It’s not cool. It’s not a skill to be proud of. It’s disrespectful and annoying.
but damnit man, get that account open before she buys… I don’t know what, but something super expensive that she doesn’t need or even like, but can afford. [When she buys something expensive we don’t like but she does, hey, it’s her money; when it’s “oh but he was so nice! I didn’t want to make him feel bad!” that’s a fucking con].