10 posts tagged “rant”

I know I've posted on this before in some sort of incarnation, but I think this past weekend's experience bears discussing.  I hate malls on the weekend.  I still go, because sometimes it's necessary...like when you're coercing males friends to go shopping, or you have to buy a dress for the wedding next week.  I'm generally pretty good at forgetting that I am not a friend to malls on days of rest.  Why not?  The answer is fairly obvious:

1) Double-wide strollers.
2) Unleashed children who appear to be lost.
3) Teenage girls with more money than me.

The first is a heath hazard.  I'm likely to trip into someone because they're moving too slowly as they try to maneuver what equates to the Hummer of strollers.  But for the most part, I'm fairly good at spotting the spaces in between these vehicles and getting around them.  I'm not a bad driver for nothing.

The second just makes me feel bad.  It makes me feel bad because I feel obligated to watch and make sure their owner comes to claim them as they stand untethered and forlorn looking in the midst of the milling crowd.  It's like the time I almost ran down a puppy on my way home from apple-picking.  We had to stop, and we stayed there for what seemed like an hour until someone came by who was able to correctly ID the dog and take them to safety.  Uncool.  And then I think uncharitable thoughts about how this is why child kidnapping happens.  And then I remember that I used to wander away from my parents regularly, and often in other states or countries.  I was such a little bastard.  But again, my musing goes in a circle and it eventually resolves itself quickly.

The last is my biggest pet peeve, and the most obvious of my issues. 

I was with WB, because she needed someone to go shopping with, and she was in town.  Huzzah!  We'd had discussions about makeup, because for some reason, I am obsessed with my cursed short eyelashes this season.  It's like it's never registered before, but suddenly, voila!  I am troubled.  Anyhow.  I noticed that while we walked and talked, some times, WB would just drift behind me.  I didn't notice until the third or fourth time, that it was because some infant thought it was prudent to walk directly into us.  Similarly, while we were in Sephora, more than a handful of children (I know they're only 10 years younger than me, but they are infants!) shoved right by us with not so much as a by your leave.  Son of a monkey!

When did children get so rude?  When did they think hauling a Coach tote or a Gucci pouchette and smacking it into strangers was a good idea?  Why must I yield to you because you have more money than sense because of your parents?

I told WB not to move aside.  I told her to hold her ground, because we're older, we're meaner, and we are not above kicking little girls out of our way.  Apparently, this is not so true, because she did not think she could take a single one of them in hand-to-hand combat.  Such a disappointment.

I suppose I should learn my lesson and not go unless it's a nice and calm Monday through Friday.  But perhaps I should not bow down to fear of the teenage girls and instead just embrace my ire and step on them if they get in my way?

Have been home for about two hours -- mind you, the first hour was spent trying to find a car.  I have showered.  I have pondered the suitcase full of clothes that smell like Europeans in the summer, as well as the ridiculous numbers of pictures I took that include almost no humans that I actually know.  But my feet are recovering from the blistered that popped as I walked to the airport garage.  My sausage toes are slowly deflating as well -- fuck 12+ hours of travel!!  I'm alone.  I'm tired.  I can't possibly do a blargle fargle on Spain justice.  Although I think I just recovered from my hangover while I was standing in line, pissed off in Paris.

Ah, Paris, or specifically Charles du Gaulle Airport.  That rant I can do.  Quick, satisfying.  Everyone in line felt the same way.  I'd even be so inclined to include Air France, but really, I do enjoy them and hope to be frivolous and rich enough one day to enjoy their first class beds...Fuck it.  My first pilot slept late...subsequently making me late and almost missing my connection. 

I don't know why the French hate us (everyone) so much.  It's an airport.  I get it that people aren't happy in airports, especially not the workers.  But if you make the conscious decision to be that sort of miserable human being, could they not make me as miserable?  Fly says she has fond memories of being stranded at CDG, but I am not inclined to agree.  They delivered me from Barcelona forty minutes late.  They then sent me to check my passport with a regular line even though they fast forwarded three flights that were departing within fifteen minutes of my flight.  They only had two workers -- TWO WORKERS -- check in an asslong line of people holding passports not of EU or Swiss origin.  That's stupid.  So many angry people in my line. Sooooo many.

So I made it through the line only to get into the most retarded security check ever.  The guy took my purse to put on the belt only to...keep it aside for four other peoples' belongings ahead of mine, thus letting me stand awkwardly waiting for my bag while other people went around me and found me too much of a nuisance for words.  Arrrgggh!

My solution was to then go to Duty Free and buy three bottles of alcohol. :D  Only bright spot.

Now: boarding.  I recognize that boarding is a bloodsport.  But also recognize, that in the US, boarding is much more civilized than any other country I've been in.  In particular: Spain.  The Spanish will line up for anything.  They don't actually call for people to board.  They don't even stand in order.  People enter in line willy nilly, cutting people off, acting like it's their due.  I also saw that the Germans and the French do the same thing.  Fuck 'em.  But in CDG, there is a line.  A line that is taped offfffff....and doesn't move.  Some people were actually frisked.  To board a plane.  After having gone through one, if not two, security check points.  Seriously?  What happened to make it this unmanageable?  There were maybe twenty people in line to get on the plane at this point.  It took me twenty minutes to board the plane.

Ahhhhhhhh.  CDG makes Heathrow look efficient and fuss-free.  Think about that.

Mmmph.  I'm going to bite the bullet and do a load of laundry.

More ranting, storytelling, and pictures later. :)

I'm watching Gandhi.

[deep, cleansing breathes.]

Why didn't anyone tell me it was 190 minutes long?  Dear lord.  It's like reading the biography all over again -- only this time, more painful.  Damn homework!  Let's discuss. 

My heart hurts.  This is for a number of reasons:

1. The rampant martyrdom.
2. The nonviolence.
3. The violence.

I'm not going to say what the man stood for and what he accomplished wasn't unbelievable and rather amazing.  Because it was.  However, I can't help but be irritated every time I think about it.  For all he managed to unite India, everything still went to shit with Partition.  Unite the Muslims and the Hindus and the Sikhs.  Remove the stigma of untouchability.  They cheer.  They seemingly agree.  And then there's the dying.

So...it's fine to ignore problems and come togehter when there's one cause that supersedes all others, but then when that hurdle is jumped, then it's fine to dissemble and go back to what you once were?  Does no one ever stop to listen to what they're agreeing to while they're agreeing?  It always baffles me.

It's not a new argument.  Really, I'm quite unoriginal, but I still get agitated.  I shouldn't think about this sort of thing, but when I actually have discussion questions to ponder, then it all goes to hell.

What really struck me was an early line in the movie spoken by his wife.  It follows the basic theme of how difficult it is for people to act like good people when they have no desire to be as good as he.  So damn true.  That was the problem, I'm sure.  It's all well as good that he's the soul of what is good and right, but to expect it of others?  Is that fair?

Human nature a bitch, ain't it?

I'm only on hour two.  [Insert long drawn out obscenity.]  Maybe I'm a bit beyond that, because I'm getting weepy over his wife's death, because Ben freaking Kingsley just cried...but still.  Guhhhh.

Oooh, another good line: "The world is not made of Mahatma Gandhis."  Smart Jinnah.

I meant to watch LOTR after this -- another movie for class -- but I honestly don't think I can take it.  I'm sure I can suss out the dangerous elements that the ring symbolizes and the reason why Galdalf is unwilling to take the darn thing.

Why did I schedule a morning meeting on my morning off?  I have such poor judgement.

Audio: Share a song that fits the moment you're living right now.
Inspired by cherè.

I've held off posting this week, not out of sloth, but out of burn-out.  I've had a shit week already.  I found out that two people close to me had their loved ones pass away; that was Monday.  I woke up with a migraine Tuesday, and took a handful of OTC and prescription meds.  They wore off by noon.  I went home and slept it off in a hot bath.  Today really wasn't so bad, but I did curse up a blue storm when I realized that I had to go to a talk after class, and I didn't think I was appropriately dressed.  I then briefly debated stripping off my jeans and seeing if I could get away with wearing my long underwear as skinny black leggings underneath my wool coat.  *shudder*  It was a moment of lost sanity.  Clearly.  Don't worry.  I didn't do it.  I kept my pants on, but my hair was a ball of static.  I must have run into a bathroom a half dozen times to try to wet it down.  No dice.  Happily, I know a little bit more about capital markets and foreclosure, and my hair is still falling across my forehead quite nicely.  Haircut success?  Decision still out.

...Have ya'll realized yet that this post is beyond a simple discussion of music?  I know that music isn't simple, but in my world, it is because I know so little...

Of course I picked more than one song.  But really, had I done what I wanted, I would have crapbombed this post with depressing chick music.  Tis my normal cup of tea.  However, I searched within the albums I'm currently cycling on my Sansa -- seemed the better part of valor.

10 - Damien Rice - Sleep Don't Weep

Damien Rice

I went home Monday and collapsed on my bed to sleep by 7.30.  I felt all kinds of ick and fought the desire to weep for everyone.  I couldn't get to my friend, so I just left a message on her voicemail.  I know how close she was to her loved one, so I just hurt for her.  I finally got to her today, and she started crying. 

Oh, heavy emotions.  This is why I don't like to discuss these things normally, but this is what has defined my week.

By the way: SUCK.  I went on a fucking tirade about how I'm not allowed to die last.  This is why I've maintained all along that I'm planning on dying waaaay before retirement age.  It's selfish, but I've seen hurt, I've felt hurt (and it's secondary!) -- terrible.  It's so wrong to want to save myself from all this, isn't it?

Song, the second, is more about the senior slump I'm experiencing, and yet not.  The lyrics don't quite match, but it's kind of a pep talk to myself if I think about it.  Behold:

13 Gym Class Heroes - On My Own Time (Write On!)

Gym Class Heroes

It's funny.  iTunes tried to tell me that Cupid's Chokehold is a part of this album, but wasn't it on the previous one?  Are they telling me this because they're playing it on MTV like it's new?

Anyhow.

That just reminds me that I should be beyond MTV.  I need to grow up.  Which also depresses me.  I mean, I may spout random crap like the asshole MBA I'm about to be, but 96% of me wants to run and hide in the corner and just read Little Women and wonder why Jo let that bitch Amy take Laurie away...as opposed to doing something constructive with my time.

I need to read that book again. 

Last song:

Pop Angels-Mai Yark Hai Ter Roo

Pop Angels

I hate deer.  I used to think they were cute.  I used to adore Bambi even though I could never sit through the entire movie.  I was traumatized as a child.  This fondness for deer took a huge hit when one hit me three weeks ago.  It completely disappeared as of yesterday.

I work on Sundays now.  This is to make up for not working on Wednesdays -- it's not compulsory, but my guilt compels me to go into the office.  Yesterday it didn't compel me to go in until noon, so I didn't leave until 5.  So it was dark enough outside. 

I'm driving on the backroads, as I always do to avoid playing highway bumper cars out of rage, and I notice a deer munching on grass to my right.  My stomach goes 'zing', meaning I get an ick feeling, like an omen.  I am not wrong.  Not 30 seconds later, on a different road, two more deer are darting across the road.  They're a little bit ahead, so I don't think much of it, but something inside me says, Woman, slow down.  I start to brake, but then I think I'm panicking for no reason, but then, another deer comes out of nowhere.  I brake in time, about five feet away, and I fucking swear that the sonuvabitch twitched his head to look at me and laugh.

It was his mortality!  Has he no shame?!  Playing chicken with me is not a good idea!  I CAN BE PUSHED TOO FAR!  I do not relish the potential deer guts that will be splattered on my windshield should I win one day.  That's hard to wash off!

I can't shake the feeling that the deer that banged into me ye fateful day earlier this month spread the word to his little deer friends: fuck with the bitch in the black Toyota.  I don't care that there are a million black Toyotas in my area.  I'm sure they know who I am.

There will be a reckoning.

But just to recap:

Mea vs. deer: 0-1-1

Bastards.

If Firefox deletes all my bookmarks one more time, I'm fucking going to take someone's head off.  This is unreal.  Three times in one year.  It wouldn't suck so much, if I didn't have two huge papers due in one week, and all my resources weren't perfectly organized and bookmarked.  Fucking fuckity fuck fuck sugarpops.

I know I should just del.icio.us everything, but no.  I'm not doing that with stupid resources on stock markets and bank web addresses.  Oh shit.  Banks.

I've got a headache now.  BALLS!

I'm trying to find numbers on non-US retailers in the Washington DC Metropolitan Area.  This, is an annoying task at best.  My professor actually told me to go look in the Yellow Pages.  And he's a nice guy, so I think he means this with all sincerity.  This concerns me.  The National Retail Association has nothing for me.  The Chamber of Commerce?  Squat.  Export/Import volumes...so irrelevant.  Better Business Bureau?  Think again.  HELP!

So I'm in the yellow pages.  Naturally this takes me to wikipedia, because seriously, it's the easiest way to tell if a company is foreign or domestic.  And where does this take me? The Tysons Corner wikipedia entry.  Which leads me to the Nordstrom entry. *Deep cleansing breath.* 

This is what I found:

source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nordstrom

This is apparently some (in)famous Employee Handbook given to new employees. 

You all must know by now that I bear grudges against the retail sector, in spite of my deep love and unerring belief in retail therapy.  In particular, I harbor a resentment towards Nordstrom.  I have systematically ruled out certain items and categories of merchandise I cannot purchase from that store simply because I've had bad experiences there on multiple occasions.  The beautiful purchase of shiny brown shoes?  Fluke.

This gray card, with this one rule they hand out to the employees leads me to believe that there are flaws in judgment all over the damn organization.  From the people that hire, to the people that work the floors.  At least now I know where it comes from.

Was it good judgment that let three saleswomen ignore me as I circled the women's apparel floor ten times slowly only to then stop and crane my neck as if to say, "Look, if you were avoiding me before because you thought I didn't want to be harrassed, now's the time to come forth because I need help!" because everyone had scurried to their hiding places?  There were no other shoppers!  Okay, one other, but I'm not going to discuss the argument I heard that woman having with the sales associate.  Yeah, they went to her.  Just not me.  I'm not going to discuss the whys of that either, but I have my theories.

Was it good judgment that had the makeup lady arguing with me over what I needed to also be purchasing when I told her I expressly went there just for lipstick that day?  I understand that you want to increase sales numbers and commissions, but I've said no twice woman, so back the fuck off.  Be nice to me.  That's how you get repeat business.

Was it good judgment that had the men in the men's shoe department eyeing my friend's foot and deciding he couldn't possibly have the size in the backroom without even the pretense of a cursory glance?  Instead he's going to shake his head and decide, "No, no, we don't have it."  How do you know, you haven't checked!  "I know."  At least indulge us.  It's the men's shoe department.  It isn't that high traffic.

Their one saving grace is their women's shoe department, and that's only because I heart my shoes.  I would also love their women's handbags, but no.  They carry a heinous volume of Kate Spade (just bought out by Liz Claibourne!) and Juicy Couture (*shudder*).  No one needs to see that.

I'm sorry.  Tedious research and hacking coughs make me grouchy.

And sidebar: no wonder I walked into Ruehl and thought it was so poserish.  Owned by AF!

Sorry.  Still grouchy.

Making up stories and dates to sell your products...you are not J. Peterman.

I forgot that I dislike drive-thrus so intensely.  Today I was reminded why.  I'm not coherent enough to form the prose to explain my anguish, so ticking them off will have to do:

1) I understand that you might not know exactly what you want, but damn well know what the joint serves.  Don't go clueless into the line and hold up six cars behind you because you couldn't be bothered to look at the menu where you were just parked next to for a full minute.  Fucking...LOOK!  Don't twirl your hair, don't bite on your finger looking stupid because you don't know that Chick-Fil-A doesn't serve hot cakes!  They have biscuits!  Biscuits and meat!  Deal!

2) Pay attention to the fucking cashier.  Don't hold out your credit card and then look away.  Don't twirl your wrist so the woman has to chase your card around in circles.  Don't keep talking to your dumbass friend and ignore the woman trying to hand you four sweet teas and two bags of food.  You can talk, you don't have to look!  If they're in your car at 8 am and getting fast food with you, I think you can risk the questionable rudeness of looking away when someone's talking.  Pay attention!  I have to get to work!

3) Do not, and I mean DO NOT pull forward so I think you're done only to stop after five feet.  Enough to make you think you've pulled away so you're not being inconsiderate, but not far enough for me to reach the window.  The cashier is looking between us, I'm looking between you and her.  We're both wondering why you're so stupid.  There's an empty lot in front of you!  You're not going to be able to throw your car in reverse to come back to deal if the food is wrong.  Fucking...pull into a space and check!

So okay, I hate the drive-thru etiquette of other drivers.  I don't really hate the idea of drive-thrus, since one of my greatest joys is the Krispy Kreme drive-thru off of Rte. 1....but some times I get agitated, and I think the love affair is over, but then I go back, and it's okay for a while, and then this happens again...And I cry a little inside.

*sigh*

Correct me if I'm wrong, but it's still October, right?  Halloween is coming up.  Thanksgiving is a month away...So close to vacation it hurts!...So why the hell are my neighbors putting up Christmas lights already? 

Last weekend, Wish Bear was driving into my neighborhood when she felt compelled to call me and tell me one or two of my neighbors had lights up.  This perplexed me, but I wrote it off as two eccentrics getting a little trigger happy on the outside decor.  You know in lieu of pumpkin lights.  However, tonight I drove home and they had multiplied!  There were three more decorated homes!

To them I say this:

I live next to you.  I try my damndest to not run your kids over when they dart out in front of my car or walk down the fucking middle of the road when it's nine o'clock at night --- what are they doing out at that hour and in the middle of the road?  It's a new neighborhood!  There are no streeplamps yet!  And they're not wearing reflective clothing.  Fucking put a leash on them! --- I wave at you when I pass by.  I even tolerate your manic lawncare practices -- I still don't think I've gone a day without hearing a lawnmower or a weedwhacker.  It's been over 18 months.

So why you trying to pay me back by confusing me?

Isn't it enough that you try to block me in and make it impossible for me to leave the 'hood in the morning because you have to wait by the bus stop in your SUV/Minivan crookedly parked in the middle of the road with junior inside because s(he) can't be bothered to walk the five houses it takes to get there?  Fuck you.  I will not apologize for narrowly squeezing between you and our other neighbor who are talking with their car doors open.  I hate you all.  Now you're making me think it's November, because no sane mofo would put lights up before Thanksgiving.  Damnit, read the rule book! 

I have trouble with the concept of time, so you're not helping me out.  I had to phone a friend to confirm the month.  She thought it was hilurrious.

I need to move out.  Poverty, only child, Asian daughter guilt be damned!  I can't take this.

I need chocolate.  Or grease.  Or both.  Where's a deep fried twinkie when I need it?

I'm trying to catch up on my TiVo while I read for class.  You know, because I'm a multitasking goddess.  And I keep on seeing ads for the The Breakup DVD.  TiVo is supposed to save me from this swill.  However, when my episode starts with it, I can't scream fast enough: it dies in my throat.  I can't scramble for the remote.  It's in my hand, I'm just frozen.  You may think I'm reacting poorly, but this movie was crap.  Like, really.  I felt cheated for having been in the theater.

I tried to give it the benefit of the doubt.  I don't read Rotten Tomato reviews.  I'm a fan of craptastic movies, so this precludes me from having any perspective.  Hello, I enjoyed Bring it On 3.  Holy God.  It was brilliant.  Not the point.  The point is, The Breakup is a deceptive trick ho that wangled my hard earned...nine dollars?...and gave me nothing in return other than bleeding eyes and ears.

Why would they tell me it's a comedy when it's not?  All the comedic moments in the entire movie are in the 30 second ad.  Fuck me.  I expected more than that.  I know that Jennifer Aniston should have been a red herring, but....Vince muthafucking Vaughn!

*spotlight on me as I speak to Vince Vaughn*

Vince.  Vince Vaughn.  I adore you.  You, I will follow through most any movie.  Yes, I found you late in my life, but that doesn't mean that my love for you is any less.  I spotted you in Zoolander --- that wig didn't do anything for you, but I won't hold it against you.  I chortled with glee as you smoked your way through the rings in Old School, wished you a good kill in Mr and Mrs Smith, cheered for Wes Mantooth in Anchorman.  I can't say I loved you quite as much in Dodgeball, but that's because Ben Stiller was trying to ruin it for me. (My love for him is meh at best, in spite of Zoolander.)

So why you gonna test my love with The Breakup?  That shit was intolerable at best.  Rancid at worst.  Insulting in general.  You must have smoked some bad crack to agree to that clusterfuck.  And the Vaughnistan?  I was rooting for you.  Until I realized it was born from this fiasco.  I'm trying to be strong, but when I keep on being reminded that you made this movie, I'm tempted to give up on you.  I've tried to block it out, really I have.  So make it stop!  A girl can only take so much!

/rant

I'm going to go refill my Vicks Vaporizer, light some candles, and try to meditate this one out.  TV will not fix this one.  Even though:

- Yay!  Flying Spaghetti Monster mentioned by Dawkins on Colbert!

- Yay!  Top Chef is back!  I love it when food professionals fight.

- Meh.  AJ was kicked off of ANTM.  She was amusing, so bad, but her picture and her 'tude did suck on this one, so that's fine.

-  Hmm.  That season finale of Venture Bros. is staring me in the face, and I can't bring myself to watch it.  Doing so would consign me indefinitely to reruns.  Oh, woe!