I came across this article today, and I just couldn’t help myself…
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Queens resident Emmanuel "Ojo" Ojofeitimi suffered second and third degree burns after his wife poured a pot of boiling water over his genitals on Monday morning!!!!!
Ojo's wife, Oyindamola, believed her husband was being unfaithful and wanted to teach him a lesson!
By covering 30 percent of his body in burns!!!!!!
"I was in bed, I was fast asleep… She came into the bedroom and poured hot water all over me," says Ojo. "I didn't know what had happened. By the time I woke up, the skin was falling off."
The hot water scalded his genitals, arm, back, face and the skin all the way from his knees to belly!!
"It sounded like a woman screaming," a neighbor of the couple told reporters.
After he came to, Ojo's wife was allegedly hovering over her husband with a giant wood board, which he says she would have hit him with if given the chance!
Oyindamola's lawyer, Jennifer Michaelson, claims her client's husband "had a history of abusing her both physically and psychologically," but Ojo "didn't anticipate" the attack at all.
"She does not know how to forgive and forget; she doesn't let anything go by," he continued. "If I come home late from work, she's always assuming that I'm with a woman."
Ojo says he has no plans to file charges against Oyindamola, but he "will file for divorce" from his wife once released from the hospital.
http://www.nypost.com/seven/07282009/news/regionalnews/great_balls_afire__181758.htm
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Ok… 1st off… HAHA! (Not like a maniacal HAHA, but damn, dude got told HAHA).
*clears throat*
I’m generally not one to buy into the whole “women are ape-shit nuts” propaganda, but damn… Oyindamola is ape-shit nuts! You know, it’s the Lorena Bobbitt’s and Oyindamola of the world that give the normal crazy shit that chicks do a bad name. I personally haven’t hunted a boyfriend down at 3am to catch him cheating since my college days. And really, I just chalk it up to the fact that I am too damn lazy to try and “catch” a boyfriend cheating these days. It’s my general disposition that it’ll eventually surface with me having to do little to no work on my end to “catch” it.
But I think that the majority of chicks out there are jealous and nervous about being cheated on and think about it constantly at that. That being said, chicks do some crazy shit when cheating is involved. It’s like a switch goes off in the head and all rationalization and cohesive thoughts aren’t allowed in. I mean, I say that in a – more than usual xx chromosome – sense.
Guys, take note… it’s like an – enter at your own risk – kinda thing. There have been reported cases of scorned women taking out their aggressions of a cheating mate on their prized procession for years. Lorena’s little ride along with her husbands jock in hand happened in what 1993?! But really the kicker is that as she was driving around with it, in hand, she snapped out of her enraged ape-shit stupor – it startled the shit out of her and in an attempt to prevent Mr. Bobbitt from ever being reunited with (we’ll call him) “Ringo” ever again, she tossed it out of a moving vehicle. From what I remember, they found it and successfully reattached it to its rightful owner. I think it would be less than cavalier to even snicker at the notion that John and Ringo will ever really be the same after all of that. (I would like to know what it looks like though, is that wrong?!)
Oyindamola on the other hand… is a bit scary. I mean Lorena going into a fit of rage and we’ll say “blacking out” is definitely, uh… ape-shit nuts, but Oyindamola… this bitch had to WAIT for water to boil. How long does that take really?! Like 15 minutes?! So as she’s staring at pot of water on an open flame for 15 minutes she is seething and plotting. Never once in that time frame does she stop and say – this is crazy… I was gonna pour water on his what?!
Nope! You know the second she saw the 1st sign of a rising bubble off the bottom of that pot of water, used a pot holder (you know to protect her hands) to carry it to her sleeping husbands bedside and (in my head she either) screamed Geronimo or wailed intently like a crazed Banshee Indian whilst dumping it quickly so that maximum exposure to the area occurred before he could wake up and react.
Now excuse me… but that’s damn nuts.
Here’s the part of my pointless rant where I am supposed to defend women, say that we ALL aren’t that crazy, referencing me not doing anything that crazy, and explain it off as to that it was just an extreme situation. Well, I’m not going to do it. How in the hell, after reading that article could I possibly justify one crazed women’s actions and have it be taken as anything but that I am just as crazy as Oyindamola and am hiding it under the guise that I am anything but?! I just won’t do it.
What I will do, however, is ask the NY Post why we need to report stuff like this?! First of all, how you conclude the article with: “Ojo says he has no plans to file charges against Oyindamola, but he ‘will file for divorce’ from his wife once released from the hospital.” – is just plain dumb. The husband isn’t even filing charges! What idiot doesn’t file charges when 30% of his body has 3rd degree burns and that 30% is centralized in his penis region?! Are you kidding me?! You might as well have gone to the ghetto and had 3-4 shirtless people share their opinions of this story to make it remotely more interesting.
Or furthermore, talk to the husband more. It seems like he has a few jewels that could be immortalized throughout the years. He doesn’t seem to be mad about his current situation. So really, the article should have been titled when ape-shit crazy marries ape-shit crazy… stupid shit happens, no lawsuits are filed and everyone feels vindicated.
Bottom line, I mean give credit to both parties. Don’t make homeboy seem like a victim. I think he knew on some level that this would happen (well, probably not exactly this) and he stuck around. I’d venture to say they don’t get a divorce and the next article you publish on them will be about how they are expecting their 3rd child.
What a waste of NY Posts publishing space. Print the real shit… or I’m boycotting you!
*Which PS, is an idle threat… I have nary the time nor energy to focus on productive things like having a voice or taking a stand.*
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Friday, July 24, 2009
the serial garage dater...
Ordinarily I wouldn’t write about a random dude asking me out and all… it actually makes me sound a bit cocky and then bitchy once the story unfolds. Nonetheless, this one really tickled my fancy and felt the need to share it.
So I guess this all started 2 Friday’s ago. I was in the parking garage about to leave to go home when a car that was pulling out of the bottom level of the garage peeled out; startling me a little. I thought it was one of my co-workers and so I was staring hard and waiting for her to drive up so I could give her a hard time for not knowing how to drive.
Lo and behold when the car came up over the incline, I quickly realized it wasn’t my co-worker at all, but a guy in a navy blue VW Bug fully equipped with the flowers on the dashboard. Now, granted since I was staring so hard at him while he was coming up, it was understandable that he waved at me and kinda chuckle at the fact that he scared me.
Just as he was passing by to leave the garage, I went to sit on park bench that’s outside and take a quick call when much to my surprise, the guy in the VW Bug stops abruptly 10 feet out of the garage, hits it in reverse, pulls his car back, rolls down his window and starts talking to me.
He says – Did I scare you?
I say – You startled me yes, I thought you were my coworker and I was going to give her shit for not knowing how to drive. (Which kinda inadvertently inferred he couldn’t drive, now that I think about it – haha!)
He says – What’s your name?
I say – Angela
He says – My name is… (And honestly, I have NO clue what his name is, there was no committing it to memory. We’ll call him Bob.)
He says – So, do you work here? I haven’t seen you around. (Like crazy dude keeps tabs on people in the building, or what?)
I say – Yeah, I used to work here before but now I am back again. I’ve only been here a couple of months, so it makes sense that we haven’t run into each other before.
He says – Where do you work?
I say – Right over here (Company name) on the 1st floor.
He says – So what’s your work schedule like? 8-5? 9-5?
I say – I work when I feel like it. Sometimes I come in and sometimes I don’t. I work my own schedule. (It’s at this point, in my mid-response, that realize that I am giving an awful lot of information about me to a dude that is #1 creepy and #2 that I have NO clue who he is… semi-panic ensued.)
>> At this point, he’s blocking traffic out of the garage to chat it up with me. It’s Friday at 4:30pm and there’s a line of cars, some honking, and this guy is TOTALLY unphased. He was on a damn mission… Code Name: Rejection.<<
He says - So do you ever take a lunch?
I say - No. (Now for clarity here, I wasn’t being a total ass, I actually rarely take a lunch when I come into the office. I can’t justify coming in around 10am and then heading out to lunch at noon. Altho, it is funny that it probably sounded like a quick rejection.)
He says – No? Never? Like not at all?
I say – Generally, no. (This one was intentional rejection.)
He says – Well, I’m coming down to your office on Tuesday at 1pm and I will take you to lunch.
I say – You can certainly stop in and if I am available, I will take you up on that offer.
He says – See you then and drove off.
Now, keep in mind when I said – If I am available, I will take you up on that offer – I had ZERO intention of taking him up on any offer. Furthermore, on Monday, I told the front office girl that if a dude came looking for me around 1pm on Tuesday, to tell him I wasn’t in. You know, head him off at the pass. Whatever.
I’m telling one of my coworkers about it and she’s asking me if I was going to go. I stood by my decision to say hell to the no. You know, inevitably since he was sitting in the world’s tiniest car and I didn’t see him standing, he’d be all of 5’4 telling me that he loves the tall (5’10) ladies. (Worst line EVER short guys!!) We get a chuckle and I move on with life.
Tuesday rolls around and it wasn’t until the end of the day that I remembered Bob was supposed to come down and ask me to lunch. I asked the gal up front if anyone had come by at 1pm asking for me and she said no.
Now even tho I wasn’t going to go with this guy to lunch even if he had come down, how rude is it to not even show up for me to passive aggressively reject you by having my admin tell you I’m not in. Seriously?! Why go thru all the trouble of literally stopping traffic and making finite plans – 1pm Tuesday, I will come down and take you to lunch.
I was annoyed. Then got over it.
Yesterday, I was coming back from running errands during lunch and I was sitting out side taking a few extra moments before I went back in to work. I was playing Bejeweled on my iPhone, obsessively. When what do you know… Bob who I rejected 1st then he rejected me 2nd comes up from around the corner and says – You’re name’s Angela, right? Which would have been a perfect time for me to ask him what his name is again, but for some odd reason, that thought didn’t even cross my mind until later when I realized I didn’t have the 1st clue what his name even was.
I say – Yes it is. (I didn’t even look up from my enthralling Bejeweled game.)
He paces around and rambles on a bit about how he was sorry for not coming down on that Tuesday – something about he’d forgotten. Didn’t matter anyhow, I was over it. On a random note, he was taller than I am, however he was not all that attractive to me. While he was pacing and rambling, I realized that I had made little to no eye contact with him. That realization made me feel compelled to apologize and tell him that I was in the middle of a serious Bejeweled game and was slightly obsessed with it. All while not looking up from my game.
He says – I will have to make it up to you.
I say – Don’t worry about it.
He says – No, let me make it up to you. When can you take a lunch?
I say – I honestly don’t know when I can and can’t. If I get busy, I don’t go. If I’m not, I go. I truly depends on my schedule and what I have going on.
He says – Well, let’s exchange numbers. It really would be better to plan it.
I say – Why don’t you just come down and see if I am available, when you want to go to lunch. (Still haven’t looked up from my game.)
He says – Ok, well I will try you sometime next week then.
And then he was gone.
I still don’t know what his name is, but now I kinda wanna go to lunch with him. It feels like it would be highly entertaining for me at this point. Like, if he comes down and asks me to lunch, what if he takes me to fast food, or what if the bill comes and I don’t reach for it and there’s an awkward moment, or what if the waiter asks if the bill is together or separate and he says separate at the exact same time I say together, or what if he takes me way fancy or something and that’s a day that it took all my power to get out of bed with hair a mess and in dirty clothes, or what if I pull out my iPhone and play Bejeweled all thru lunch talking about my high scores and national ranking (which I really don’t have a ranking but sounds funny)…Ohhhh the possibilities!!
To be continued…
So I guess this all started 2 Friday’s ago. I was in the parking garage about to leave to go home when a car that was pulling out of the bottom level of the garage peeled out; startling me a little. I thought it was one of my co-workers and so I was staring hard and waiting for her to drive up so I could give her a hard time for not knowing how to drive.
Lo and behold when the car came up over the incline, I quickly realized it wasn’t my co-worker at all, but a guy in a navy blue VW Bug fully equipped with the flowers on the dashboard. Now, granted since I was staring so hard at him while he was coming up, it was understandable that he waved at me and kinda chuckle at the fact that he scared me.
Just as he was passing by to leave the garage, I went to sit on park bench that’s outside and take a quick call when much to my surprise, the guy in the VW Bug stops abruptly 10 feet out of the garage, hits it in reverse, pulls his car back, rolls down his window and starts talking to me.
He says – Did I scare you?
I say – You startled me yes, I thought you were my coworker and I was going to give her shit for not knowing how to drive. (Which kinda inadvertently inferred he couldn’t drive, now that I think about it – haha!)
He says – What’s your name?
I say – Angela
He says – My name is… (And honestly, I have NO clue what his name is, there was no committing it to memory. We’ll call him Bob.)
He says – So, do you work here? I haven’t seen you around. (Like crazy dude keeps tabs on people in the building, or what?)
I say – Yeah, I used to work here before but now I am back again. I’ve only been here a couple of months, so it makes sense that we haven’t run into each other before.
He says – Where do you work?
I say – Right over here (Company name) on the 1st floor.
He says – So what’s your work schedule like? 8-5? 9-5?
I say – I work when I feel like it. Sometimes I come in and sometimes I don’t. I work my own schedule. (It’s at this point, in my mid-response, that realize that I am giving an awful lot of information about me to a dude that is #1 creepy and #2 that I have NO clue who he is… semi-panic ensued.)
>> At this point, he’s blocking traffic out of the garage to chat it up with me. It’s Friday at 4:30pm and there’s a line of cars, some honking, and this guy is TOTALLY unphased. He was on a damn mission… Code Name: Rejection.<<
He says - So do you ever take a lunch?
I say - No. (Now for clarity here, I wasn’t being a total ass, I actually rarely take a lunch when I come into the office. I can’t justify coming in around 10am and then heading out to lunch at noon. Altho, it is funny that it probably sounded like a quick rejection.)
He says – No? Never? Like not at all?
I say – Generally, no. (This one was intentional rejection.)
He says – Well, I’m coming down to your office on Tuesday at 1pm and I will take you to lunch.
I say – You can certainly stop in and if I am available, I will take you up on that offer.
He says – See you then and drove off.
Now, keep in mind when I said – If I am available, I will take you up on that offer – I had ZERO intention of taking him up on any offer. Furthermore, on Monday, I told the front office girl that if a dude came looking for me around 1pm on Tuesday, to tell him I wasn’t in. You know, head him off at the pass. Whatever.
I’m telling one of my coworkers about it and she’s asking me if I was going to go. I stood by my decision to say hell to the no. You know, inevitably since he was sitting in the world’s tiniest car and I didn’t see him standing, he’d be all of 5’4 telling me that he loves the tall (5’10) ladies. (Worst line EVER short guys!!) We get a chuckle and I move on with life.
Tuesday rolls around and it wasn’t until the end of the day that I remembered Bob was supposed to come down and ask me to lunch. I asked the gal up front if anyone had come by at 1pm asking for me and she said no.
Now even tho I wasn’t going to go with this guy to lunch even if he had come down, how rude is it to not even show up for me to passive aggressively reject you by having my admin tell you I’m not in. Seriously?! Why go thru all the trouble of literally stopping traffic and making finite plans – 1pm Tuesday, I will come down and take you to lunch.
I was annoyed. Then got over it.
Yesterday, I was coming back from running errands during lunch and I was sitting out side taking a few extra moments before I went back in to work. I was playing Bejeweled on my iPhone, obsessively. When what do you know… Bob who I rejected 1st then he rejected me 2nd comes up from around the corner and says – You’re name’s Angela, right? Which would have been a perfect time for me to ask him what his name is again, but for some odd reason, that thought didn’t even cross my mind until later when I realized I didn’t have the 1st clue what his name even was.
I say – Yes it is. (I didn’t even look up from my enthralling Bejeweled game.)
He paces around and rambles on a bit about how he was sorry for not coming down on that Tuesday – something about he’d forgotten. Didn’t matter anyhow, I was over it. On a random note, he was taller than I am, however he was not all that attractive to me. While he was pacing and rambling, I realized that I had made little to no eye contact with him. That realization made me feel compelled to apologize and tell him that I was in the middle of a serious Bejeweled game and was slightly obsessed with it. All while not looking up from my game.
He says – I will have to make it up to you.
I say – Don’t worry about it.
He says – No, let me make it up to you. When can you take a lunch?
I say – I honestly don’t know when I can and can’t. If I get busy, I don’t go. If I’m not, I go. I truly depends on my schedule and what I have going on.
He says – Well, let’s exchange numbers. It really would be better to plan it.
I say – Why don’t you just come down and see if I am available, when you want to go to lunch. (Still haven’t looked up from my game.)
He says – Ok, well I will try you sometime next week then.
And then he was gone.
I still don’t know what his name is, but now I kinda wanna go to lunch with him. It feels like it would be highly entertaining for me at this point. Like, if he comes down and asks me to lunch, what if he takes me to fast food, or what if the bill comes and I don’t reach for it and there’s an awkward moment, or what if the waiter asks if the bill is together or separate and he says separate at the exact same time I say together, or what if he takes me way fancy or something and that’s a day that it took all my power to get out of bed with hair a mess and in dirty clothes, or what if I pull out my iPhone and play Bejeweled all thru lunch talking about my high scores and national ranking (which I really don’t have a ranking but sounds funny)…Ohhhh the possibilities!!
To be continued…
Monday, July 20, 2009
why you should close your free dating site... or not...
I have a profile on a free dating site. As it may be, I have kept this profile around mostly because it brings me true entertainment! I'm fairly certain I have never even met anyone from the site but have had a profile for years! Generally, I get things from dudes my dad's age and I let them down gently... depending on my mood. Now that's nothing to blog about in the least. HOWEVER, last week I got an email from a dude that I just couldn't help responding back to and then subsequently, posting it as a blog so that you could be AS entertained as I was when I read it and responded to it! haha!
bon appetit!
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His 1st email to me:
hi love to chat goddess. I just turned 39 a cpl months ago but look and act very young work out a lot and stay fit. I never married and am single seeking something ongoing. I live alone have my own condo in north dallas/addison area. Not into drugs and mainly a weekend drinker and smoke when I drink. I am 5'10'' 175 brwn hair blue eyes have a trim goatee and sometimes have a shaved body. I have tons of interests including working out,traveling,sports watching and going,movies and am very passionate and affectionate.
chad
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My response:
well hey there chad! i love chatting too. i am about to turn 28 in a cpl of mths but i act and look very old. sometimes i work out, but generally i put little to no effort into it when i am there. mostly ppl watch with the occasional towel blotting of my forehead. hey, i have to look like i belong there, otherwise they'd catch on that i #1 don't have a membership and #2 just staring at people can be oogy if not done properly. i've been married, several times actually, but have only been divorced once. i would call myself "single" currently, but truly it depends on who you ask. hey, it's not my fault that those guys think we're together and i can't help what they infer. it was nice to see that you are seeking something that is ongoing bc i am seeking something ongoing as well. i sometimes live alone. it's a long story. i live a little bit farther north than you do. i'm close to frisco, but am familiar with addison as one of my ex-husbands lived there when we were married. i wouldn't say i am "into" drugs, per-se. i'm a weekend drinker as well. actually, i am a weekday drinker. you know, it's probably fair to say that i drink daily and it's safe to assume that if i am awake and upright, i have probably had a few to get me kick started. for some ppl it's coffee, for me it's a couple shots of stoli. i always say, find a system that works and stick with it.
about me - i'm 5'10ish, 160lbs, brown hair and eyes. i had a goatee, but i got it laser removed. i get hit on a lot more since that little transaction. i rarely shave anything on my body, well except when i had the goatee. i shaved everything once. i felt too slick and like a wet dolphin. i have not done it again since. i too have tons of interests. i enjoy aircraft spotting. maybe when you take me out, we can do that since you live close to addison and the airport. i have also gotten really good at cross-stitching. i just finished cross-stitching a 20x20 blanket with a picture of my cats. took me forever, but man is it amazing and so life-like. i am partial to jigsaw puzzles. i like to glue them once i am done, sometimes frame them and hang them or give them as gifts. i'm currently learning a foreign language. i quit learning japanese bc it was too hard. a friend suggested pig latin, but i don't know much about it and i haven't done any research on how hard it is to learn. i also have a fairly large collection of glass unicorns. they just make me feel whimsical.
anyhow, let me know if you would like to hang out, maybe talk on the phone, bc we have determined that you and i both love to chat and we’re looking for something ongoing. I feel like there could be some chemistry here. Don’t you?
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His response (to that nonsense):
yes love to chat your super sexy and love to get together sometime
feel free to text me 469 855 ****
chad
_____________________________
The dude gave me his number... and thought I would call?! Are you kidding me with this... ?! I think that guys on the free sites are a little more bold behind a keyboard. I eventually wrote that back saying - did you even read what I wrote and he reponded, yes and I would love to talk... call me!
Someone needs a lesson in context clues!
bon appetit!
_____________________________
His 1st email to me:
hi love to chat goddess. I just turned 39 a cpl months ago but look and act very young work out a lot and stay fit. I never married and am single seeking something ongoing. I live alone have my own condo in north dallas/addison area. Not into drugs and mainly a weekend drinker and smoke when I drink. I am 5'10'' 175 brwn hair blue eyes have a trim goatee and sometimes have a shaved body. I have tons of interests including working out,traveling,sports watching and going,movies and am very passionate and affectionate.
chad
_____________________________
My response:
well hey there chad! i love chatting too. i am about to turn 28 in a cpl of mths but i act and look very old. sometimes i work out, but generally i put little to no effort into it when i am there. mostly ppl watch with the occasional towel blotting of my forehead. hey, i have to look like i belong there, otherwise they'd catch on that i #1 don't have a membership and #2 just staring at people can be oogy if not done properly. i've been married, several times actually, but have only been divorced once. i would call myself "single" currently, but truly it depends on who you ask. hey, it's not my fault that those guys think we're together and i can't help what they infer. it was nice to see that you are seeking something that is ongoing bc i am seeking something ongoing as well. i sometimes live alone. it's a long story. i live a little bit farther north than you do. i'm close to frisco, but am familiar with addison as one of my ex-husbands lived there when we were married. i wouldn't say i am "into" drugs, per-se. i'm a weekend drinker as well. actually, i am a weekday drinker. you know, it's probably fair to say that i drink daily and it's safe to assume that if i am awake and upright, i have probably had a few to get me kick started. for some ppl it's coffee, for me it's a couple shots of stoli. i always say, find a system that works and stick with it.
about me - i'm 5'10ish, 160lbs, brown hair and eyes. i had a goatee, but i got it laser removed. i get hit on a lot more since that little transaction. i rarely shave anything on my body, well except when i had the goatee. i shaved everything once. i felt too slick and like a wet dolphin. i have not done it again since. i too have tons of interests. i enjoy aircraft spotting. maybe when you take me out, we can do that since you live close to addison and the airport. i have also gotten really good at cross-stitching. i just finished cross-stitching a 20x20 blanket with a picture of my cats. took me forever, but man is it amazing and so life-like. i am partial to jigsaw puzzles. i like to glue them once i am done, sometimes frame them and hang them or give them as gifts. i'm currently learning a foreign language. i quit learning japanese bc it was too hard. a friend suggested pig latin, but i don't know much about it and i haven't done any research on how hard it is to learn. i also have a fairly large collection of glass unicorns. they just make me feel whimsical.
anyhow, let me know if you would like to hang out, maybe talk on the phone, bc we have determined that you and i both love to chat and we’re looking for something ongoing. I feel like there could be some chemistry here. Don’t you?
_____________________________
His response (to that nonsense):
yes love to chat your super sexy and love to get together sometime
feel free to text me 469 855 ****
chad
_____________________________
The dude gave me his number... and thought I would call?! Are you kidding me with this... ?! I think that guys on the free sites are a little more bold behind a keyboard. I eventually wrote that back saying - did you even read what I wrote and he reponded, yes and I would love to talk... call me!
Someone needs a lesson in context clues!
while i should be working...
original post date: november 29th 2007
So I am going to go buy a new 2008 Honda Civic on Saturday. I emailed a picture of the car I want to my coworker, and the emails posted below is the ridiculousness that directly followed…
From: Brandy
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:02 AM
To: Angela Williams
Subject: RE: Here she is...
very pretty. I love the gunmetal grey
________________________________________________
From: Angela Williams
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:03 AM
To: Brandy
Subject: RE: Here she is...
Oh me too… I saw one @ Honda yesterday and ALMOST shed a tear… but I maintained!
________________________________________________
From: Brandy
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:05 AM
To: Angela Williams
Subject: RE: Here she is...
You're right around the corner....
________________________________________________
From: Angela Williams
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:07 AM
To: Brandy
Subject: RE: Here she is...
I know – I am so excited!
Side note: I need to go get some shoes @ lunch today… I have none. I decided that I will wear a dress I have @ the house. That's done and really I was tired of thinking about it anyhow. So I will find some killer shoes and call it a day!
You wanna go?
________________________________________________
From: Brandy
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:11 AM
To: Angela Williams
Subject: RE: Here she is...
Believe me...I would LOVE to since I need to get some shoes, too....but I have to go to the dr. I had forgotten that my doctor referred Jason to this dermatologist. She confirmed his diagnosis, and after he slathered up with the lotion last night, he is cured. She wants to me to come in now.... ugh.
hmmm. I could move the appt to 4pm, but I think Ron would expect me to stay here during lunch.
________________________________________________
From: Angela Williams
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:13 AM
To: Brandy
Subject: RE: Here she is...
You're @ $32K and you can always do one of these numbers… I was supposed to go @ lunch but she was overbooked and had to reschedule me for 4pm. =)
________________________________________________
From: Brandy
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:20 AM
To: Angela Williams
Subject: RE: Here she is...
ok. I will have to call to make sure that they have a slot open. They're excellent about getting me in, but she's only open from 12-5pm each day.
________________________________________________
From: Angela Williams
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:29 AM
To: Brandy
Subject: RE: Here she is...
Dude… we need to open a doctors office – I like the old 12-5 schedule! Haha!
________________________________________________
From: Brandy
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:32 AM
To: Angela Williams
Subject: RE: Here she is...
Tell me about it! One day a week she's open until 7. On Fridays, she leaves at 4:30 to be home before dark b/c of the Sabbath. She's a very observant Jew and very strange.
________________________________________________
From: Angela Williams
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:35 AM
To: Brandy
Subject: RE: Here she is...
I think she's "selectively" observant. Sounds fishy to me… like a Jew-front… that's it… she's putting on a front and she's hiding behind Judaism. How convenient. Not to mention, those folks don't believe in hell. Nicely done… leave work on Friday @ 4:30 and no hell. I think she's on to something…
________________________________________________
From: Brandy
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:38 AM
To: Angela Williams
Subject: RE: Here she is...
OH MY GOSH. You are hilarious.
Do they really not believe in hell? Seriously? I'm going to ask her b/c she and I get into some crazy talks at times.
________________________________________________
From: Angela Williams
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:41 AM
To: Brandy
Subject: RE: Here she is...
Yeah – I'm drop dead serious... no hell. Here's your set up in the office…
She says – so, I'm not gonna give you any Vicodin. You say – I'll see you in hell then! She says – No you won't… WE (collective Judaism "we") don't believe in hell.
I'm telling you – it's the perfect set up!
________________________________________________
From: Brandy
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:43 AM
To: Angela Williams
Subject: RE: Here she is...
Laugh out loud. That is soooo dang funny. I'm gonna ask.
________________________________________________
From: Angela Williams
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:49 AM
To: Brandy
Subject: RE: Here she is...
How many ppl are you forwarding this email to? I sure don't wanna look like an anti-Semite. Ah hell… (I take that back… there is NO hell)… AH heavens… who really cares?! Being a Catholic – we did the cafeteria plan. We took a little from a lot of religions. I really can't be mad that the Jews don't believe in hell… I sure wish the Catholics woulda gotten a helping of no hell when they snatched up the Jewish tradition of being able to celebrate Sunday's mass on Saturday AS LONG AS it is after 5:30pm. Really, I'm mad @ the Catholics. Tell them that… that should help!
________________________________________________
From: Brandy
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:56 AM
To: Angela Williams
Subject: RE: Here she is...
I'm not forwarding to anyone. I just think your tone/knowledge on the topic is hysterical. I am going to ask her about hell.
Oh, and she lost custody to all 5 of her children, 2 are bipolar. Her exhusband is in cohoots with a Dallas judge that he paid who also knows a few psychiatrists that testified in court against her. Her life is CRAZY.
________________________________________________
From: Angela Williams
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 10:05 AM
To: Brandy
Subject: RE: Here she is...
Listen – I have a VERY good knowledge of hell. The Catholics have this thing we call a "well-defined conscience" – well, we should anyhow. That's supposed to keep us on the straight and narrow… being a scared of the idea of hell. Well screw that… I think that I'm going to drop Judaism and Catholicism and go with Calvinism. Those guys believe in predestination. So if you are one of the "chosen ones" no matter what you do they believe you go to heaven. Altho, if you aren't a chosen one… that'd kinda suck. It's 50/50, I like my odds!
As for your doctor, it sounds like it's a good things she doesn't believe in hell. If she was a Catholic – she may have already purchased herself a one way ticket to an eternity of fire and solitude. Lucky Jew!
________________________________________________
From: Brandy
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 10:10 AM
To: Angela Williams
Subject: RE: Here she is...
My friend Joey (gay) comes from a VERY strict Catholic upbringing - went to Catholic school where the nuns would hit his hands with rulers, and he really struggled with all of that when he came out.
Yeah, the ole doc is a strange lady, but very interesting.
________________________________________________
From: Angela Williams
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 10:15 AM
To: Brandy
Subject: RE: Here she is...
Oh yeah… and the Catholics on Gays… that's a doosey! You know, the Catholics say… IT'S OK TO BE GAY (side note: you just can't be a practicing gay). Whhhat? They gotta make ends meet too?! I mean what the heck?! It really makes me laugh… I just want to say in return – SO, what you're saying is… It's ok to have impure thoughts as long as you don't act on them? Well… that sure seems to contradict my Catholic upbringing. Quit making up your own damn rules and let's get in on the no hell idea. THAT'S something worth fighting over.
And FYI – in my 1st grade school, I had nuns as well. Anyone who was left handed was MADE to write with their right. Point in case, my brother is a lefty – well he should have been anyhow. He's ambidextrous now, but in grade school the nuns beat the ever-living snot outta him until he wrote with his right hand. Stupid mean nuns!
________________________________________________
You know... it's pretty amazing that we get anything done when we are "working" - haha! Every time I re-read this email, I laugh my ass off!
So I am going to go buy a new 2008 Honda Civic on Saturday. I emailed a picture of the car I want to my coworker, and the emails posted below is the ridiculousness that directly followed…
From: Brandy
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:02 AM
To: Angela Williams
Subject: RE: Here she is...
very pretty. I love the gunmetal grey
________________________________________________
From: Angela Williams
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:03 AM
To: Brandy
Subject: RE: Here she is...
Oh me too… I saw one @ Honda yesterday and ALMOST shed a tear… but I maintained!
________________________________________________
From: Brandy
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:05 AM
To: Angela Williams
Subject: RE: Here she is...
You're right around the corner....
________________________________________________
From: Angela Williams
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:07 AM
To: Brandy
Subject: RE: Here she is...
I know – I am so excited!
Side note: I need to go get some shoes @ lunch today… I have none. I decided that I will wear a dress I have @ the house. That's done and really I was tired of thinking about it anyhow. So I will find some killer shoes and call it a day!
You wanna go?
________________________________________________
From: Brandy
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:11 AM
To: Angela Williams
Subject: RE: Here she is...
Believe me...I would LOVE to since I need to get some shoes, too....but I have to go to the dr. I had forgotten that my doctor referred Jason to this dermatologist. She confirmed his diagnosis, and after he slathered up with the lotion last night, he is cured. She wants to me to come in now.... ugh.
hmmm. I could move the appt to 4pm, but I think Ron would expect me to stay here during lunch.
________________________________________________
From: Angela Williams
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:13 AM
To: Brandy
Subject: RE: Here she is...
You're @ $32K and you can always do one of these numbers… I was supposed to go @ lunch but she was overbooked and had to reschedule me for 4pm. =)
________________________________________________
From: Brandy
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:20 AM
To: Angela Williams
Subject: RE: Here she is...
ok. I will have to call to make sure that they have a slot open. They're excellent about getting me in, but she's only open from 12-5pm each day.
________________________________________________
From: Angela Williams
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:29 AM
To: Brandy
Subject: RE: Here she is...
Dude… we need to open a doctors office – I like the old 12-5 schedule! Haha!
________________________________________________
From: Brandy
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:32 AM
To: Angela Williams
Subject: RE: Here she is...
Tell me about it! One day a week she's open until 7. On Fridays, she leaves at 4:30 to be home before dark b/c of the Sabbath. She's a very observant Jew and very strange.
________________________________________________
From: Angela Williams
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:35 AM
To: Brandy
Subject: RE: Here she is...
I think she's "selectively" observant. Sounds fishy to me… like a Jew-front… that's it… she's putting on a front and she's hiding behind Judaism. How convenient. Not to mention, those folks don't believe in hell. Nicely done… leave work on Friday @ 4:30 and no hell. I think she's on to something…
________________________________________________
From: Brandy
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:38 AM
To: Angela Williams
Subject: RE: Here she is...
OH MY GOSH. You are hilarious.
Do they really not believe in hell? Seriously? I'm going to ask her b/c she and I get into some crazy talks at times.
________________________________________________
From: Angela Williams
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:41 AM
To: Brandy
Subject: RE: Here she is...
Yeah – I'm drop dead serious... no hell. Here's your set up in the office…
She says – so, I'm not gonna give you any Vicodin. You say – I'll see you in hell then! She says – No you won't… WE (collective Judaism "we") don't believe in hell.
I'm telling you – it's the perfect set up!
________________________________________________
From: Brandy
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:43 AM
To: Angela Williams
Subject: RE: Here she is...
Laugh out loud. That is soooo dang funny. I'm gonna ask.
________________________________________________
From: Angela Williams
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:49 AM
To: Brandy
Subject: RE: Here she is...
How many ppl are you forwarding this email to? I sure don't wanna look like an anti-Semite. Ah hell… (I take that back… there is NO hell)… AH heavens… who really cares?! Being a Catholic – we did the cafeteria plan. We took a little from a lot of religions. I really can't be mad that the Jews don't believe in hell… I sure wish the Catholics woulda gotten a helping of no hell when they snatched up the Jewish tradition of being able to celebrate Sunday's mass on Saturday AS LONG AS it is after 5:30pm. Really, I'm mad @ the Catholics. Tell them that… that should help!
________________________________________________
From: Brandy
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 9:56 AM
To: Angela Williams
Subject: RE: Here she is...
I'm not forwarding to anyone. I just think your tone/knowledge on the topic is hysterical. I am going to ask her about hell.
Oh, and she lost custody to all 5 of her children, 2 are bipolar. Her exhusband is in cohoots with a Dallas judge that he paid who also knows a few psychiatrists that testified in court against her. Her life is CRAZY.
________________________________________________
From: Angela Williams
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 10:05 AM
To: Brandy
Subject: RE: Here she is...
Listen – I have a VERY good knowledge of hell. The Catholics have this thing we call a "well-defined conscience" – well, we should anyhow. That's supposed to keep us on the straight and narrow… being a scared of the idea of hell. Well screw that… I think that I'm going to drop Judaism and Catholicism and go with Calvinism. Those guys believe in predestination. So if you are one of the "chosen ones" no matter what you do they believe you go to heaven. Altho, if you aren't a chosen one… that'd kinda suck. It's 50/50, I like my odds!
As for your doctor, it sounds like it's a good things she doesn't believe in hell. If she was a Catholic – she may have already purchased herself a one way ticket to an eternity of fire and solitude. Lucky Jew!
________________________________________________
From: Brandy
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 10:10 AM
To: Angela Williams
Subject: RE: Here she is...
My friend Joey (gay) comes from a VERY strict Catholic upbringing - went to Catholic school where the nuns would hit his hands with rulers, and he really struggled with all of that when he came out.
Yeah, the ole doc is a strange lady, but very interesting.
________________________________________________
From: Angela Williams
Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 10:15 AM
To: Brandy
Subject: RE: Here she is...
Oh yeah… and the Catholics on Gays… that's a doosey! You know, the Catholics say… IT'S OK TO BE GAY (side note: you just can't be a practicing gay). Whhhat? They gotta make ends meet too?! I mean what the heck?! It really makes me laugh… I just want to say in return – SO, what you're saying is… It's ok to have impure thoughts as long as you don't act on them? Well… that sure seems to contradict my Catholic upbringing. Quit making up your own damn rules and let's get in on the no hell idea. THAT'S something worth fighting over.
And FYI – in my 1st grade school, I had nuns as well. Anyone who was left handed was MADE to write with their right. Point in case, my brother is a lefty – well he should have been anyhow. He's ambidextrous now, but in grade school the nuns beat the ever-living snot outta him until he wrote with his right hand. Stupid mean nuns!
________________________________________________
You know... it's pretty amazing that we get anything done when we are "working" - haha! Every time I re-read this email, I laugh my ass off!
can an emo be catholic...
original post date: august 26th 2007
This past Saturday I was at church with my family when from nowhere a small Asian girl sits down in front of us. Now, there's no significance to the fact that she was Asian - aside from it's the truth. I studied what she was wearing and quickly decided she was an emo.
She had black square rimmed glasses and ebony greasy unwashed hair that covered at least 3/5ths of her face - at an angle. She was wearing a black shirt that had safety pins that went directly up the center of her back – pinning the shirt tight to her body. She was wearing black and white plaid shorts that were fairly short and definitely not church appropriate… until – you noticed that she was wearing bright purple tights (in the middle of a hot Texas summer). For shoes, she had these elf-looking periwinkle blue ballet-like things that had purple accents on them. Hey, at least they kind of match the tights… right?
I'm not going to lie, I didn't get it!
She wore a navy blue choker along with a green large-bead wooden longer necklace, about 50 sting bracelets, and she was sporting the traditional emo white belt. Which help me out, I know the white belt has some kind of significance but I don't remember what it is… I'm obviously not up to speed on my emology…
Now to the point… can you be an emo and Catholic? Traditionally, emos are a self-loathing group of mostly middle-class well-off kids who find imperfections in their life and create a ridiculous, depressing melodrama around each one. They often take anti-depressants, even though the majority of them don't need them. They spend an exponential amount of time wallowing in their imaginary quagmire of torment.
In case that didn't draw a picture for you, I found this funny comparison between Goths and emos…
Emos hate themselves,
Goths hate everyone
Emos want to kill themselves
Goths want to kill everyone
All that being said, I really think it's a huge oxymoron for an emo to be in church. I couldn't help but think…
If the other emos knew you were here, would they shun you? I'm thinking yes…
Are you a reforming emo? Can you even BE a reforming emo?
Maybe she was a confused emo and wandered into a Catholic church? No, she took communion – that means she was at least baptized and took Catholic classes…
Maybe she was an emo poser? But then why would you choose to wear that nonsense?
Can you be ½ emo? But she's wearing the white belt… I think she was in it to win it?!
It's possible that she came from a rich family and was acting out?! But she had to have been old enough to drive herself to Church as she was there by herself… 16 should be old enough to know better, right? (I personally think she was closer to 20!)
How can you be emo and pray to God? Aren't you supposed to be at home angry with God for giving you a family of people who "just don't get it"?
The thought crossed my mind that I should pull out my camera and take a picture. The glitch… my camera makes that fake "click" noise and I couldn't figure out how to make it turn off. I realized in that moment, that while I was choosing to be fascinated with this girl, others were trying to get their God for the week. I put the camera away and seriously wished that I knew how to use my phone better!
What it all boils down to is this… I didn't pay attention to one thing that was going on in church and I still have no idea of the answer to this mysterious quandary! I can't shake the thought that you can be both. You have to be one or the other, right?
This past Saturday I was at church with my family when from nowhere a small Asian girl sits down in front of us. Now, there's no significance to the fact that she was Asian - aside from it's the truth. I studied what she was wearing and quickly decided she was an emo.
She had black square rimmed glasses and ebony greasy unwashed hair that covered at least 3/5ths of her face - at an angle. She was wearing a black shirt that had safety pins that went directly up the center of her back – pinning the shirt tight to her body. She was wearing black and white plaid shorts that were fairly short and definitely not church appropriate… until – you noticed that she was wearing bright purple tights (in the middle of a hot Texas summer). For shoes, she had these elf-looking periwinkle blue ballet-like things that had purple accents on them. Hey, at least they kind of match the tights… right?
I'm not going to lie, I didn't get it!
She wore a navy blue choker along with a green large-bead wooden longer necklace, about 50 sting bracelets, and she was sporting the traditional emo white belt. Which help me out, I know the white belt has some kind of significance but I don't remember what it is… I'm obviously not up to speed on my emology…
Now to the point… can you be an emo and Catholic? Traditionally, emos are a self-loathing group of mostly middle-class well-off kids who find imperfections in their life and create a ridiculous, depressing melodrama around each one. They often take anti-depressants, even though the majority of them don't need them. They spend an exponential amount of time wallowing in their imaginary quagmire of torment.
In case that didn't draw a picture for you, I found this funny comparison between Goths and emos…
Emos hate themselves,
Goths hate everyone
Emos want to kill themselves
Goths want to kill everyone
All that being said, I really think it's a huge oxymoron for an emo to be in church. I couldn't help but think…
If the other emos knew you were here, would they shun you? I'm thinking yes…
Are you a reforming emo? Can you even BE a reforming emo?
Maybe she was a confused emo and wandered into a Catholic church? No, she took communion – that means she was at least baptized and took Catholic classes…
Maybe she was an emo poser? But then why would you choose to wear that nonsense?
Can you be ½ emo? But she's wearing the white belt… I think she was in it to win it?!
It's possible that she came from a rich family and was acting out?! But she had to have been old enough to drive herself to Church as she was there by herself… 16 should be old enough to know better, right? (I personally think she was closer to 20!)
How can you be emo and pray to God? Aren't you supposed to be at home angry with God for giving you a family of people who "just don't get it"?
The thought crossed my mind that I should pull out my camera and take a picture. The glitch… my camera makes that fake "click" noise and I couldn't figure out how to make it turn off. I realized in that moment, that while I was choosing to be fascinated with this girl, others were trying to get their God for the week. I put the camera away and seriously wished that I knew how to use my phone better!
What it all boils down to is this… I didn't pay attention to one thing that was going on in church and I still have no idea of the answer to this mysterious quandary! I can't shake the thought that you can be both. You have to be one or the other, right?
flawless clarity...
original post date: march 28th 2007
I have to say that rich women have just gotten plain unbearable these days. What's with the attitude that you are better than I am because of your zip code or what you drive? And you know what? I bet 99% of those women aren't even the breadwinners. They were those girls you see flittering around Uptown with the Louis Vuitton handbags (God forbid you call it a purse – purse is something you do with your lips, you CARRY a handbag) and Jimmy Choo shoes that their previous sugar daddy purchased for them. I have to say, I ran into one of these ladies today who was about 25 years past her prime! Her audacity, tone, and demeanor floored me. Let's be honest, I really wanted to ever so politely bitch slap her and let her know that the wad of cash neatly stored in her husbands account would not block the force of an oncoming hand. I restrained. This woman pulled up in some SUV that was obviously too big for her and donned a diamond ring the size of Antarctica so as to announce her entrance with her own personal spotlight provided by graded D, VVSI1 diamond, glistening off of the gentle sunlight. I was unimpressed. We were double booked for hair apts with the same lady. She would get her color put on and while it sat, I would get my hair cut. The entire hour I was there, she was rude, hateful and had a total disregard for her tone and whoever else was privileged enough to hear her drone on about how the yard guy just can't plant a magnolia tree correctly. I mean, it's easy – right?
Step one: dig hole.
Step two: take tree out of pot.
Step three: put tree in ground.
Step four: pack dirt in around tree.
Where's the difficulty? I can only assume she lived in some fancy house in some fancy place that only the elite of society even knows about. Wouldn't you think that it comes equipped with elite gardeners? And shit, if my biggest problem is that the magnolia tree was planted two feet too far to the right, I'd call it an effin good day! After the disgusted discussion about the magnolia's, she proceeded to question if our hair lady knew what she was doing and complained the entire time. While I was getting my hair cut and styled, she stood between the only mirror in the place and me. Now, how rude is that? That's pretty damn rude, if you ask me. She obviously didn't think so and even if I would have offered an opinion, I'm pretty sure that my petulant existence would have been a slight but ignorable nuisance.
She managed to put a chink in my ordinarily wonderful haircutting experience. Thinking back on it, I wish I had reached across and given her five across the eye. I think that that would have cancelled out the annoyance and probably would have made for a much better story!
I have to say that rich women have just gotten plain unbearable these days. What's with the attitude that you are better than I am because of your zip code or what you drive? And you know what? I bet 99% of those women aren't even the breadwinners. They were those girls you see flittering around Uptown with the Louis Vuitton handbags (God forbid you call it a purse – purse is something you do with your lips, you CARRY a handbag) and Jimmy Choo shoes that their previous sugar daddy purchased for them. I have to say, I ran into one of these ladies today who was about 25 years past her prime! Her audacity, tone, and demeanor floored me. Let's be honest, I really wanted to ever so politely bitch slap her and let her know that the wad of cash neatly stored in her husbands account would not block the force of an oncoming hand. I restrained. This woman pulled up in some SUV that was obviously too big for her and donned a diamond ring the size of Antarctica so as to announce her entrance with her own personal spotlight provided by graded D, VVSI1 diamond, glistening off of the gentle sunlight. I was unimpressed. We were double booked for hair apts with the same lady. She would get her color put on and while it sat, I would get my hair cut. The entire hour I was there, she was rude, hateful and had a total disregard for her tone and whoever else was privileged enough to hear her drone on about how the yard guy just can't plant a magnolia tree correctly. I mean, it's easy – right?
Step one: dig hole.
Step two: take tree out of pot.
Step three: put tree in ground.
Step four: pack dirt in around tree.
Where's the difficulty? I can only assume she lived in some fancy house in some fancy place that only the elite of society even knows about. Wouldn't you think that it comes equipped with elite gardeners? And shit, if my biggest problem is that the magnolia tree was planted two feet too far to the right, I'd call it an effin good day! After the disgusted discussion about the magnolia's, she proceeded to question if our hair lady knew what she was doing and complained the entire time. While I was getting my hair cut and styled, she stood between the only mirror in the place and me. Now, how rude is that? That's pretty damn rude, if you ask me. She obviously didn't think so and even if I would have offered an opinion, I'm pretty sure that my petulant existence would have been a slight but ignorable nuisance.
She managed to put a chink in my ordinarily wonderful haircutting experience. Thinking back on it, I wish I had reached across and given her five across the eye. I think that that would have cancelled out the annoyance and probably would have made for a much better story!
walking & texting + bitchy old lady = injury...
original post date: march 7th 2007
Yesterday, I'm getting out of work later then I usually do – close to 6:00pm. I am heading to the elevators and up to the 3rd floor of the parking garage to get me that much closer to being at the bar hanging out with my boyfriend, my good friends and watching the Mavs surpass their own winning streak record.
Aside: Mavs are currently sitting at a 16 game winning streak. Their longest prior record was 14 games. If we win all the games we have left, we'll set a new winning streak record for the season! Fingers crossed Mavs fans!
Anyhow, I hit the elevator button and patiently wait for the bell to ding and the doors to open. It arrives and I get in. When I turn around, I see an older lady and an older gentleman walking towards the elevator lobby. Even tho I am thinking that I want to let the doors shut and let them catch their own elevator, I don't. I hold the doors open. The woman sees me and signs to me the "give me one second and I will be there" – but first she had to finish the mindless drivel of a completely meaningless conversation before she could enter elevator. Here's the kicker, she was talking to the older gentleman who I thought was going to take the stairs and that's why they had to finish their conversation in the lobby and make me wait patiently BUT they both get in the elevator. I mean what the hell?
Ok fine, I'm perturbed to say the least but the elevator doors shut and we are about to be moving upward. She snaps at me to hit the button for 3. It's already pushed – that's where I was going. He follows it up with, "I'll have 5 please". Yeah ok whatever, are you gonna tip me when you get out? My annoyance level grew with each passing second…
Ding!
We're on level 3 and I am itching to get out of this elevator – except the old woman puts her arm up in a defensive manner, looks at me like how dare you try and get out of this elevator 1st, and pushes past me to get out before me. Proving a point? I don't really know what the point was, but ok.
As sure as the day is long, when she walks out of the elevator lobby on the 3rd floor she swings the door open but doesn't hold it so I can walk thru. I was texting at the time and not really expecting someone who knew you were right behind them coming thru the only door on the floor to let it slam back in your face.
Granted you shouldn't walk and text apparently – lesson learned.
The door swings back and catches my face. She doesn't so much as turn around to investigate the loud thud followed by the "oh shit, that hurt" comment I made. And I could be making it sound worse then it really was, but I could have sworn I saw her head lift a little higher in an "I'll show you who's in charge" manner with the slight but fading sound of her whistling – such as to pat herself on the back for her battle well fought and won.
Moral of the story: I can't wait until I see that lady coming to the elevator again. I just hope the situation allows for me to stand directly in front of the closing elevator doors with a shit-eating grin on my face as they shut in her face. Ok – that was just plain mean. I take that back.
The REAL moral of the story: I will not be holding the elevator doors open for anyone for awhile. I have to reestablish my confidence level that my 2 second ride to level 3 will be one that provokes positive emotions as opposed to a perturbed, which progressed to seriously annoyed, state of mind.
Yesterday, I'm getting out of work later then I usually do – close to 6:00pm. I am heading to the elevators and up to the 3rd floor of the parking garage to get me that much closer to being at the bar hanging out with my boyfriend, my good friends and watching the Mavs surpass their own winning streak record.
Aside: Mavs are currently sitting at a 16 game winning streak. Their longest prior record was 14 games. If we win all the games we have left, we'll set a new winning streak record for the season! Fingers crossed Mavs fans!
Anyhow, I hit the elevator button and patiently wait for the bell to ding and the doors to open. It arrives and I get in. When I turn around, I see an older lady and an older gentleman walking towards the elevator lobby. Even tho I am thinking that I want to let the doors shut and let them catch their own elevator, I don't. I hold the doors open. The woman sees me and signs to me the "give me one second and I will be there" – but first she had to finish the mindless drivel of a completely meaningless conversation before she could enter elevator. Here's the kicker, she was talking to the older gentleman who I thought was going to take the stairs and that's why they had to finish their conversation in the lobby and make me wait patiently BUT they both get in the elevator. I mean what the hell?
Ok fine, I'm perturbed to say the least but the elevator doors shut and we are about to be moving upward. She snaps at me to hit the button for 3. It's already pushed – that's where I was going. He follows it up with, "I'll have 5 please". Yeah ok whatever, are you gonna tip me when you get out? My annoyance level grew with each passing second…
Ding!
We're on level 3 and I am itching to get out of this elevator – except the old woman puts her arm up in a defensive manner, looks at me like how dare you try and get out of this elevator 1st, and pushes past me to get out before me. Proving a point? I don't really know what the point was, but ok.
As sure as the day is long, when she walks out of the elevator lobby on the 3rd floor she swings the door open but doesn't hold it so I can walk thru. I was texting at the time and not really expecting someone who knew you were right behind them coming thru the only door on the floor to let it slam back in your face.
Granted you shouldn't walk and text apparently – lesson learned.
The door swings back and catches my face. She doesn't so much as turn around to investigate the loud thud followed by the "oh shit, that hurt" comment I made. And I could be making it sound worse then it really was, but I could have sworn I saw her head lift a little higher in an "I'll show you who's in charge" manner with the slight but fading sound of her whistling – such as to pat herself on the back for her battle well fought and won.
Moral of the story: I can't wait until I see that lady coming to the elevator again. I just hope the situation allows for me to stand directly in front of the closing elevator doors with a shit-eating grin on my face as they shut in her face. Ok – that was just plain mean. I take that back.
The REAL moral of the story: I will not be holding the elevator doors open for anyone for awhile. I have to reestablish my confidence level that my 2 second ride to level 3 will be one that provokes positive emotions as opposed to a perturbed, which progressed to seriously annoyed, state of mind.
so you wanna park in my spot, do ya?
original post date: december 13th 2006
A little background…I have lived in the same apartment for 3 years and have paid for my covered parking spot for the entirety of those 3 years. The parking situation near my apartment is horrific. There are a total of 5 uncovered parking spots (not including one handicap spot), for the visitors of at least 80 apartments. Explain to me how that makes sense? I have stayed in this apartment because I have refused to let them raise my rent because of that exact situation. Now… the policy on covered parking it just as ludicrous as having 5 spots for 80 apartments. If a car parks in your spot, the apartment complex must come out and place a sticker on the car. Keep in mind that the office has to be open for this to even happen and everything always happens after-hours when there is nothing you can do. Once the car has been stickered, the driver has 24 hours to move the car. Waaait…what? No, you heard me – 24 hours. Who the hell stays in the same parking spot for 24 hours? The answer is, no one! The car can only be towed, again through the apartment complex once the car has been there for 24 hours. So basically, if you come home and someone is parked in your spot there is jack-shit you can do about it except to park 20 miles away from your apartment and hope you can remember where you parked the next day!
The point of the story…Late one Tuesday night, after a night of shooting pool and partaking in a drink or 2, I come home to find a car parked in my spot. The 5 uncovered spots and the one handicap spot all have cars parked in them for the night, naturally. I'm pissed! I honk my horn and hope that the jerk that parked in my spot will come out and move. Alas, no! No one wanted to own up to the white Lexus, so I resort to parking in the only spot that is open, 20 miles from my apartment. The next morning, I am leaving for work and the bastard is still in my spot at 7:50am. Now, I am fuming pissed but there is still nothing I could do about the situation. I leave mad. When I return home, the car is gone and my anger had subsided.
Just yesterday, when I got home from work and one of the 5 uncovered spots that was closer to my apartment was open so I parked there – out of personal convenience. Plus, had one of my friends decided to drop in, I had my covered spot open so they could park there and not have to hike to my apartment. Not to mention, I knew I would be leaving at 8:30pm to go shoot pool, so I would not be in that spot all night.
I leave to go to the pool hall and I notice the very bane of my existence, the white Lexus, in my parking spot – again! All the anger I had, had previously came rushing back to me. At this point, I was ready to call a tow-truck and just have the damn thing towed! So I pull right behind the car and honk my horn in hopes that this time, the jerk will make an appearance as it was 8:30pm this time and not 2am like the previous time. Nothing. I call my friend Brad and have him look up tow trucks online so I can get them to come out. In the midst of it all, I realize that a random tow-truck company is not going to come out and just tow someone on my good word. How do I prove it's my spot? How do I even prove I live there? As if I still had a copy of my lease anywhere handy! So I am seething.
Just then, on the 3rd floor, an apartment door opens and a guy carrying a beer comes sauntering down the stairs. I'm thinking, "Oh please be the guy parked in my spot. I just dare you!" He walks right past me and goes to get in the drivers side of the Lexus. My strategic parking job, parking so close to the back of his car so he could not get out without me moving my car first, was the perfect set up for an altercation / confrontation. And do you know what this tool says to me? He says, "I'm so sorry, I was in a hurry and just needed a place to park." This sends me through the roof, as he had no intention of leaving that spot until the next day, the same thing he had done before.
Me: This is no mistake that you parked here! You have done it before! Him: I'm sorry, again – I was in a hurry! Me: That's total bullshit because the last time you parked here, you were still parked here when I left for work at 7:50am! You mean to tell me that this is a mistake? Him: Yeah, it was a mistake. (I'm still on the phone with Brad at this point) Me: I am on the phone to the tow-truck company right now! Him: Oh no, please I will move my car right now! Me: Do you realize that I pay for this spot and the last time you parked here, I had to hike to my apartment? Him: I did know someone paid for the spot, but I didn't think that it was that big of a deal! Me: You better be glad that I'm on hold with the tow-truck company or I would sit here until they towed you! If you EVER park here again, I will not honk my horn; I will just have you towed! (Which if you remember correctly, that can't even happen, but I was definitely threatening it!)
The transaction between the tool and me couldn't have been any longer then 30 seconds, but it was a very liberating 30 seconds.
The story becomes humorous to me for this fact: I was not going to park in my spot right then, I was leaving to go to the pool hall. It was the principle of the matter at this point. I just knew that when I returned home at 2am – which I did, I would have been ultra pissed that the car was still there, in my spot. So after he moved his car, I drove out of the apartment complex right behind him. Ha! What he must have been thinking! Who cares! When I came home, my parking spot was WIDE open - just the way it should be!
Moral of the story… don't park in my spot!
A little background…I have lived in the same apartment for 3 years and have paid for my covered parking spot for the entirety of those 3 years. The parking situation near my apartment is horrific. There are a total of 5 uncovered parking spots (not including one handicap spot), for the visitors of at least 80 apartments. Explain to me how that makes sense? I have stayed in this apartment because I have refused to let them raise my rent because of that exact situation. Now… the policy on covered parking it just as ludicrous as having 5 spots for 80 apartments. If a car parks in your spot, the apartment complex must come out and place a sticker on the car. Keep in mind that the office has to be open for this to even happen and everything always happens after-hours when there is nothing you can do. Once the car has been stickered, the driver has 24 hours to move the car. Waaait…what? No, you heard me – 24 hours. Who the hell stays in the same parking spot for 24 hours? The answer is, no one! The car can only be towed, again through the apartment complex once the car has been there for 24 hours. So basically, if you come home and someone is parked in your spot there is jack-shit you can do about it except to park 20 miles away from your apartment and hope you can remember where you parked the next day!
The point of the story…Late one Tuesday night, after a night of shooting pool and partaking in a drink or 2, I come home to find a car parked in my spot. The 5 uncovered spots and the one handicap spot all have cars parked in them for the night, naturally. I'm pissed! I honk my horn and hope that the jerk that parked in my spot will come out and move. Alas, no! No one wanted to own up to the white Lexus, so I resort to parking in the only spot that is open, 20 miles from my apartment. The next morning, I am leaving for work and the bastard is still in my spot at 7:50am. Now, I am fuming pissed but there is still nothing I could do about the situation. I leave mad. When I return home, the car is gone and my anger had subsided.
Just yesterday, when I got home from work and one of the 5 uncovered spots that was closer to my apartment was open so I parked there – out of personal convenience. Plus, had one of my friends decided to drop in, I had my covered spot open so they could park there and not have to hike to my apartment. Not to mention, I knew I would be leaving at 8:30pm to go shoot pool, so I would not be in that spot all night.
I leave to go to the pool hall and I notice the very bane of my existence, the white Lexus, in my parking spot – again! All the anger I had, had previously came rushing back to me. At this point, I was ready to call a tow-truck and just have the damn thing towed! So I pull right behind the car and honk my horn in hopes that this time, the jerk will make an appearance as it was 8:30pm this time and not 2am like the previous time. Nothing. I call my friend Brad and have him look up tow trucks online so I can get them to come out. In the midst of it all, I realize that a random tow-truck company is not going to come out and just tow someone on my good word. How do I prove it's my spot? How do I even prove I live there? As if I still had a copy of my lease anywhere handy! So I am seething.
Just then, on the 3rd floor, an apartment door opens and a guy carrying a beer comes sauntering down the stairs. I'm thinking, "Oh please be the guy parked in my spot. I just dare you!" He walks right past me and goes to get in the drivers side of the Lexus. My strategic parking job, parking so close to the back of his car so he could not get out without me moving my car first, was the perfect set up for an altercation / confrontation. And do you know what this tool says to me? He says, "I'm so sorry, I was in a hurry and just needed a place to park." This sends me through the roof, as he had no intention of leaving that spot until the next day, the same thing he had done before.
Me: This is no mistake that you parked here! You have done it before! Him: I'm sorry, again – I was in a hurry! Me: That's total bullshit because the last time you parked here, you were still parked here when I left for work at 7:50am! You mean to tell me that this is a mistake? Him: Yeah, it was a mistake. (I'm still on the phone with Brad at this point) Me: I am on the phone to the tow-truck company right now! Him: Oh no, please I will move my car right now! Me: Do you realize that I pay for this spot and the last time you parked here, I had to hike to my apartment? Him: I did know someone paid for the spot, but I didn't think that it was that big of a deal! Me: You better be glad that I'm on hold with the tow-truck company or I would sit here until they towed you! If you EVER park here again, I will not honk my horn; I will just have you towed! (Which if you remember correctly, that can't even happen, but I was definitely threatening it!)
The transaction between the tool and me couldn't have been any longer then 30 seconds, but it was a very liberating 30 seconds.
The story becomes humorous to me for this fact: I was not going to park in my spot right then, I was leaving to go to the pool hall. It was the principle of the matter at this point. I just knew that when I returned home at 2am – which I did, I would have been ultra pissed that the car was still there, in my spot. So after he moved his car, I drove out of the apartment complex right behind him. Ha! What he must have been thinking! Who cares! When I came home, my parking spot was WIDE open - just the way it should be!
Moral of the story… don't park in my spot!
potty talk...
original post date: december 8th 2006
Now there are unspoken rules of appropriate bathroom etiquette. I'm thinking a few people out there missed the memo! In my experience it has been the older ladies. These are the women who have been married for years, let themselves go, and generally don't care who they offend. In this instance it's particularly offensive to my olfactory cortex. It's been told to me, that men have certain rules for bathroom use as well. I have heard the following two:
* If you have the ability to put at least one urinal between you and the another urinal user, it's a must!* If for some reason you must stand directly next to another dude, it's imperative that you glance at an upward angle in front of your urinal – only!
That sounds reasonable, I think! Now, there are rules that woman either don't know about or don't care about. Either way, ladies – you are disgusting and I am going to clearly draft the rules that I think we should all know and at the very least attempt to follow.
* Do not use the stall directly next to a current user. It's uncomfortable, especially when the whole bathroom is wide open for business. Furthermore, it should be mandatory that you not sit directly next to someone in another stall when you are in there handling your business… if you catch my drift. Because today I caught someone's drift and almost revisited my lunch!
* Wash your damn hands. Even if you are not ordinarily a hand washer, when someone else is in the bathroom, please at least give the appearance that you care and that you are concerned about yours and others personal hygiene! I'm tired of having to open the bathroom door with a damn paper towel. It's annoying!
* Do not talk on your cell phone while you are in the bathroom. Number one, it usually echoes in to other people's stalls and number 2, it just plain rude.
* Flush the damn toilet. Enough said!* If you are a squatter, wipe the damn seat. Not everyone inspects the seat before they sit. Which seat inspection is a MUST. But in the instance that you have a momentary lapse in bathroom judgment, it's near horrifying to sit in someone else's remainder.
* The bathroom is not a hangout place. If you have finished your business, washed and dried your hands – leave! Don't hang around and talk about how Suzie pissed you off about that thing she did with that memo. That's why we have water-coolers. Go back to your office and gossip there!
* Put things that belong in the trash, in the trash. Not on the back of the toilet or on the floor, but in the trashcan. Do you just discard your trash on the floor or on the back of your toilet at home, you dirty bastard? Then why would you think it's appropriate to ever do that anywhere? I mean seriously!
* In regards to washing your hands… if there is only one place to get your paper towels in the bathroom, get what you need and move! Why do you have to dry your hands in front of the only paper towel dispenser in the entire bathroom, while I patiently let mine drip on the floor. Take one or two or 10 if you need them and move!
* Going 2 to a stall is generally accepted in a crowded bar or other social setting, but when you are in an office bathroom, there is just no justification. This is not a common offense, but one I witnessed just today. If you cannot wait until you are done using the bathroom to talk about Tommy, you seriously need help.
Ok… I think I have the major ones bathroom offenses. If there is something not on the list and you think it should be a rule, please feel free to leave a comment with your addition!
Now there are unspoken rules of appropriate bathroom etiquette. I'm thinking a few people out there missed the memo! In my experience it has been the older ladies. These are the women who have been married for years, let themselves go, and generally don't care who they offend. In this instance it's particularly offensive to my olfactory cortex. It's been told to me, that men have certain rules for bathroom use as well. I have heard the following two:
* If you have the ability to put at least one urinal between you and the another urinal user, it's a must!* If for some reason you must stand directly next to another dude, it's imperative that you glance at an upward angle in front of your urinal – only!
That sounds reasonable, I think! Now, there are rules that woman either don't know about or don't care about. Either way, ladies – you are disgusting and I am going to clearly draft the rules that I think we should all know and at the very least attempt to follow.
* Do not use the stall directly next to a current user. It's uncomfortable, especially when the whole bathroom is wide open for business. Furthermore, it should be mandatory that you not sit directly next to someone in another stall when you are in there handling your business… if you catch my drift. Because today I caught someone's drift and almost revisited my lunch!
* Wash your damn hands. Even if you are not ordinarily a hand washer, when someone else is in the bathroom, please at least give the appearance that you care and that you are concerned about yours and others personal hygiene! I'm tired of having to open the bathroom door with a damn paper towel. It's annoying!
* Do not talk on your cell phone while you are in the bathroom. Number one, it usually echoes in to other people's stalls and number 2, it just plain rude.
* Flush the damn toilet. Enough said!* If you are a squatter, wipe the damn seat. Not everyone inspects the seat before they sit. Which seat inspection is a MUST. But in the instance that you have a momentary lapse in bathroom judgment, it's near horrifying to sit in someone else's remainder.
* The bathroom is not a hangout place. If you have finished your business, washed and dried your hands – leave! Don't hang around and talk about how Suzie pissed you off about that thing she did with that memo. That's why we have water-coolers. Go back to your office and gossip there!
* Put things that belong in the trash, in the trash. Not on the back of the toilet or on the floor, but in the trashcan. Do you just discard your trash on the floor or on the back of your toilet at home, you dirty bastard? Then why would you think it's appropriate to ever do that anywhere? I mean seriously!
* In regards to washing your hands… if there is only one place to get your paper towels in the bathroom, get what you need and move! Why do you have to dry your hands in front of the only paper towel dispenser in the entire bathroom, while I patiently let mine drip on the floor. Take one or two or 10 if you need them and move!
* Going 2 to a stall is generally accepted in a crowded bar or other social setting, but when you are in an office bathroom, there is just no justification. This is not a common offense, but one I witnessed just today. If you cannot wait until you are done using the bathroom to talk about Tommy, you seriously need help.
Ok… I think I have the major ones bathroom offenses. If there is something not on the list and you think it should be a rule, please feel free to leave a comment with your addition!
the backpack killer...
original post date: december 7th 2007
Yesterday was a beating. I started the day out with that lightheaded feeling – you know the precursor to getting sick. It was imperative that I made it to the mall to get the finishing touches on my Christmas dinner outfit as I needed everything finalized by today (aside: it's not done… still stressing). I get to the Galleria at 11:30am and it's packed already. I make my way to the appropriate store and find the few items that I needed rather easily. While I was there, I made an unplanned (well it was kind of planned) stop in Coach and bought myself a handbag to help me release some of my holiday stress. And, let me tell you… it sure did the trick.
After the Galleria, I had to stop by Wal-Mart. Don't ask, it was a nightmare. $100 later and with a business card from a very annoying Mary Kay lady, I am on my way out the door and heading back to work. My hour lunch has officially hit the hour-and-a-half mark. Ugh!
Back at the office, I take out my new Coach, my only solace, and look at her. She's beautiful… AND SHE'S BROKEN! Damnit! This means that after work when I already had to stop and pick up my newly tailored cocktail dress, I now have to make an unscheduled stop at the effin Galleria. Which is on the way to nothing, the complete opposite direction of where I live, and a total pain in my ass! I got to think about how annoying this was going to be for the next 4 hours that I had left at work.
Oh the Galleria…it's a beating in-and-of itself. But now, at 10 'til 6 it's ridiculous. There is no way to park near the Coach store so I am in for a hike in the heels I have now been wearing for close to 9 hours. I think about the pain with every step I take knowing I'm going to have to repeat them all the way back to my parking spot. The Coach is dealt with and at 6:30, I'm on my way home.
It dawned on me that I have no shoes to go with my outfit. I hadn't made it home yet and could make one more stop. I was hating my heels by then but I hadn't taken them off or it would have been a lost cause to get them back on. I stopped at a couple of places and found nothing.
I was hungry and it was now 10 after 7 and I had not graced my apartment with my presence since 7:45am. I was quickly approaching the 10-hour mark and blood-sugar levels had dropped substantially. It got to the point where I said screw it, got a Southwest Chicken Salad from Jack 'n the Box and went home. I made it in time to see who won ANTM.
HERE'S THE FUNNY PART…
I'm sitting in my recliner with Crimson in my lap watching Forensic Files on Court TV. This was the 1st time I had actually gotten comfortable and relaxed from my busy day. Why I chose to watch Forensic Files – I'll never know. Right in the middle of an episode of a girl who got killed in her apartment, I get a suspicious knock on my door. I panic and dump about 10lbs of unnecessary adrenaline, get up slowly (Crimson is freaking out) and creep over to the door to look and see who it is. I have no idea who this guy is and he's carrying a backpack in which I can only surmise in that moment, that he was going to use it dispose of my battered body. So I freak. I didn't answer the door and I moved away from it slowly so he couldn't hear me. I was unnerved for hours after that!
This morning I wake up and I am running late. I catch a quick shower, throw on whatever is clean, grab my purse and… what?!?! Where the hell are my keys?!?!?! I can't find them anywhere! I'm running around crazy, looking in all the places I throw them and still nothing! In the midst of my panic, I hear a tiny sound of something scratching on the outside of my door. I thought to myself… noooo, those aren't my keys! I open my locked front door to find my keys had been hanging out in the keyhole all night. Niiice!
On my way to work, I remembered the guy who had knocked on my door. He wasn't coming to kill me, but to inform me I was an idiot.
Yesterday was a beating. I started the day out with that lightheaded feeling – you know the precursor to getting sick. It was imperative that I made it to the mall to get the finishing touches on my Christmas dinner outfit as I needed everything finalized by today (aside: it's not done… still stressing). I get to the Galleria at 11:30am and it's packed already. I make my way to the appropriate store and find the few items that I needed rather easily. While I was there, I made an unplanned (well it was kind of planned) stop in Coach and bought myself a handbag to help me release some of my holiday stress. And, let me tell you… it sure did the trick.
After the Galleria, I had to stop by Wal-Mart. Don't ask, it was a nightmare. $100 later and with a business card from a very annoying Mary Kay lady, I am on my way out the door and heading back to work. My hour lunch has officially hit the hour-and-a-half mark. Ugh!
Back at the office, I take out my new Coach, my only solace, and look at her. She's beautiful… AND SHE'S BROKEN! Damnit! This means that after work when I already had to stop and pick up my newly tailored cocktail dress, I now have to make an unscheduled stop at the effin Galleria. Which is on the way to nothing, the complete opposite direction of where I live, and a total pain in my ass! I got to think about how annoying this was going to be for the next 4 hours that I had left at work.
Oh the Galleria…it's a beating in-and-of itself. But now, at 10 'til 6 it's ridiculous. There is no way to park near the Coach store so I am in for a hike in the heels I have now been wearing for close to 9 hours. I think about the pain with every step I take knowing I'm going to have to repeat them all the way back to my parking spot. The Coach is dealt with and at 6:30, I'm on my way home.
It dawned on me that I have no shoes to go with my outfit. I hadn't made it home yet and could make one more stop. I was hating my heels by then but I hadn't taken them off or it would have been a lost cause to get them back on. I stopped at a couple of places and found nothing.
I was hungry and it was now 10 after 7 and I had not graced my apartment with my presence since 7:45am. I was quickly approaching the 10-hour mark and blood-sugar levels had dropped substantially. It got to the point where I said screw it, got a Southwest Chicken Salad from Jack 'n the Box and went home. I made it in time to see who won ANTM.
HERE'S THE FUNNY PART…
I'm sitting in my recliner with Crimson in my lap watching Forensic Files on Court TV. This was the 1st time I had actually gotten comfortable and relaxed from my busy day. Why I chose to watch Forensic Files – I'll never know. Right in the middle of an episode of a girl who got killed in her apartment, I get a suspicious knock on my door. I panic and dump about 10lbs of unnecessary adrenaline, get up slowly (Crimson is freaking out) and creep over to the door to look and see who it is. I have no idea who this guy is and he's carrying a backpack in which I can only surmise in that moment, that he was going to use it dispose of my battered body. So I freak. I didn't answer the door and I moved away from it slowly so he couldn't hear me. I was unnerved for hours after that!
This morning I wake up and I am running late. I catch a quick shower, throw on whatever is clean, grab my purse and… what?!?! Where the hell are my keys?!?!?! I can't find them anywhere! I'm running around crazy, looking in all the places I throw them and still nothing! In the midst of my panic, I hear a tiny sound of something scratching on the outside of my door. I thought to myself… noooo, those aren't my keys! I open my locked front door to find my keys had been hanging out in the keyhole all night. Niiice!
On my way to work, I remembered the guy who had knocked on my door. He wasn't coming to kill me, but to inform me I was an idiot.
best sleep of my life...
original post date: november 2nd 2006
So, I have shaken off some unnecessary baggage and have done a little house cleaning. My mom always asks me why I spend time, energy and emotions on people who don't seemingly deserve it. She's been telling me that for years. I have gotten better about not letting myself be dragged down by other's lack of self-worth, but like a homeless puppy, I have a compassion for those who are not strong. There are too many people out there, who by age, are considered an adult but have not matured to own the title of an adult. These so-called adults typically possess the same qualities that mirror very closely to that of the behavior of a child.
If you think of something that you would like to add to the list, feel free to leave a comment. If you would like to refute something that I have on the list, feel free to leave a comment. There is a multitude of things that I could add to this list - this list is never ending. The 8 that I have highlighted are childish things that I have either been witness to or had the behavior directed towards me in the last 72 hours.
It's the ultimate unnecessary drama, thus the reason for my house cleaning. Oddly, I thought I would be upset about it all, but I am just not. Like I said, I truly did have the best sleep of my life last night, waking only to a refreshed start of a great day!
So, I have shaken off some unnecessary baggage and have done a little house cleaning. My mom always asks me why I spend time, energy and emotions on people who don't seemingly deserve it. She's been telling me that for years. I have gotten better about not letting myself be dragged down by other's lack of self-worth, but like a homeless puppy, I have a compassion for those who are not strong. There are too many people out there, who by age, are considered an adult but have not matured to own the title of an adult. These so-called adults typically possess the same qualities that mirror very closely to that of the behavior of a child.
First, if you find yourself typing a flaming email (text or IM) to make a point - grow up. Deal with your problems face-to-face. Anyone can be strong behind the letters on a keyboard. This is a huge sign of weakness.
Second, if you feel the need to find people who always agree with you - grow up. This world is filled with millions upon millions of people who all have their own independent ideas, thoughts and opinions. If you spend all of your time looking for YES people, in my opinion, you have wasted your time.
Third, if you do not have the ability to agree to disagree – grow up. Again, not everyone will agree with your opinions. Everyone thinks their ideas and opinions are correct and that others should agree with your way of thinking, but realistically it's not going to happen. If you can't accept that someone doesn't think the same way you do, then you will have a long lonely road ahead of you.
Fourth, if you require someone else to get you motivated to do or say something – grow up. It's easily understood from the "group think" mentality. When 2 or more people come together, as a group they can do things they wouldn't ordinarily do independently. For the love of God, have an independent thought. Not every idea or opinion you have needs to be reinforced by someone else to make it's worth.
Fifth, if you can't walk away from a disagreement to find your own personal fault – grow up. Things said in anger are usually what you really think but have never said. Beyond that, you say it in a far more hateful/angry way then you would have if you were having a calm rational discussion. Once something has been said, it becomes real and it is hard for people to forget the things you said in that moment of anger.
Sixth, if you name call during a disagreement – grow up. Name-calling belongs on the blacktop during recess not in a "so-called" adult discussion. If you can't make your point without name-calling, then you need your adult card revoked.
Seventh, if you get legitimately upset when you don't get your way – grow up. Or at least throw yourself on the floor and have a tantrum. If you're going to act like you're three years old, then really act like you're three years old – and that's what they do.
Eighth, if you have never paid for all of your bills on you own – grow up. You have no concept of what it is like for the rest of the world when things are handed to you. I'm not talking about you living on your own but your parents give you money. I mean hoofing it in the real world, where if you don't go to work your rent doesn't get paid.
Ninth, if you have felt defensive about any of the things I have listed above – grow up. It just means you see yourself somewhere in this ranting. If you don't agree with what I have said, you are entitled to your opinion, as I am to mine.
If you think of something that you would like to add to the list, feel free to leave a comment. If you would like to refute something that I have on the list, feel free to leave a comment. There is a multitude of things that I could add to this list - this list is never ending. The 8 that I have highlighted are childish things that I have either been witness to or had the behavior directed towards me in the last 72 hours.
It's the ultimate unnecessary drama, thus the reason for my house cleaning. Oddly, I thought I would be upset about it all, but I am just not. Like I said, I truly did have the best sleep of my life last night, waking only to a refreshed start of a great day!
people never cease to amaze me...
original post date: august 21st 2006
I wonder just what it would be like to care about what other people thought of me. I mean, this is not to say I dont care about anything at all, but for the most part I just dont care if you like or dislike me. There are plenty of people out there so concerned with what other people think about them that it consumes them. It boggles my mind how these people even get out of bed each morning without having a panic attack as to what misfortunes the day might bring. I am not a person held hostage by personal possessions or the appearance of wealth and fortune. I just dont care about those things all that much. I care even less about what people think of me.
You know though, I am pretty sure these people dont even know that they are the way they are. They have put on a little show, expressing a fake being, for so long they lose themselves in the whole façade. Why do people act like they care about you, when its so very obvious that they have no interest in you unless its solely beneficial to maintaining their fake world while simultaneously raising themselves up on a self fulfilled pedestal so as to look down on you.
I am about to be 25 years-old and not that I am self-proclaiming sagacity - but rather saying that over the years, I have become more keen on seeing these types of people in their truest of forms. I have little to no patience for these people. I am the furthest thing from a judgmental being. I dont care what you own, I dont care what walk of life you came from, and least of all - I dont care if you have screwed up in any way. For the record, we all have been erroneous in nature in one way or another and I am the last person to judge someone else for making mistakes.
Judgmental people typically have no justification for holding such judgments on others. I have yet to come across a judgmental person who has passed positive judgment. In my experience, these judgmental people are disgusted with their own lives and the only way they can feel better about their current situation is to drag someone else through the mud. Your typical bully syndrome, no doubt.
And what is the reaction from the other side of the beast? It has been my general observation that people on the other side, fit nicely into three categories: The Mute, The Follower, and the Care-lackers.
The Mute is the person sitting across from the undeserved lashing. In response to a complete disregard for the value of another human being, they sit there and unwillingly take the abuse. Most people hate the feeling of being judged and/or looked down upon, but rarely do they raise their verbal shield of defense to deflect uninvited negativity. Judgmental people who have an insatiable need to feel superior to others love these people. They are more apt to being able to control these individuals. However, there is an undetermined breaking point when that person says enough is enough. Some people make it successfully thus graduating them to the Care-lackers grouping. Those who never do - they are the true Mutes!
The Followers can fall into two subsets: those who know they are and those that do not. The knowing Follower would rather sit on the right hand of the devil then the way of his or her wrath. These people join into a judgmental pattern thus creating and ultimately losing themselves in a self-manifested façade of a life. They eventually graduate to an independently judgmental being that can destroy without the direction of the leader. The second subset is those who do not know they are a Follower. Simply put, they are training to be independently selfish, judgmental and superior to others - if they are not already there. It is the peer pressure mentality - where there is strength in numbers. But really what you have to ask yourself is if you have a bunch of people who are really weak at the core, what kind of army are they truly forming? I say an unknowing self-loathing army.
The third group, the Care-lackers, are the ones who are wise to these people and refuse to let them make a chink in their armor. These are the ones that Judgmental people hate. They cannot get to them and even worse, they cannot control them. Since I am most familiar with this category, I see how these judgmental people treat the Care-lackers. They go out of their way to make us look badly. They say horrible things about us behind our backs. They do everything they can to make the Care-lackers uncomfortable. The problems is, the Care-lackers - LACK the care. Its only a dull-hum of annoyance to Care-lackers.
Personally, I take some strange comfort in knowing I dont care about who or what these people are and more importantly I dont care what they say about me. Anyone who would believe the smut that pours out of these peoples mouths belongs in the Followers category and therefore, subsequently, they are no friend of mine. Either way, I have a small group of close friends and family members and my life is in the best place it can possibly be in at this point - only to be in a better place tomorrow.
That is more then most people can say for themselves and something a judgmental person can only say and never truly mean.
I wonder just what it would be like to care about what other people thought of me. I mean, this is not to say I dont care about anything at all, but for the most part I just dont care if you like or dislike me. There are plenty of people out there so concerned with what other people think about them that it consumes them. It boggles my mind how these people even get out of bed each morning without having a panic attack as to what misfortunes the day might bring. I am not a person held hostage by personal possessions or the appearance of wealth and fortune. I just dont care about those things all that much. I care even less about what people think of me.
You know though, I am pretty sure these people dont even know that they are the way they are. They have put on a little show, expressing a fake being, for so long they lose themselves in the whole façade. Why do people act like they care about you, when its so very obvious that they have no interest in you unless its solely beneficial to maintaining their fake world while simultaneously raising themselves up on a self fulfilled pedestal so as to look down on you.
I am about to be 25 years-old and not that I am self-proclaiming sagacity - but rather saying that over the years, I have become more keen on seeing these types of people in their truest of forms. I have little to no patience for these people. I am the furthest thing from a judgmental being. I dont care what you own, I dont care what walk of life you came from, and least of all - I dont care if you have screwed up in any way. For the record, we all have been erroneous in nature in one way or another and I am the last person to judge someone else for making mistakes.
Judgmental people typically have no justification for holding such judgments on others. I have yet to come across a judgmental person who has passed positive judgment. In my experience, these judgmental people are disgusted with their own lives and the only way they can feel better about their current situation is to drag someone else through the mud. Your typical bully syndrome, no doubt.
And what is the reaction from the other side of the beast? It has been my general observation that people on the other side, fit nicely into three categories: The Mute, The Follower, and the Care-lackers.
The Mute is the person sitting across from the undeserved lashing. In response to a complete disregard for the value of another human being, they sit there and unwillingly take the abuse. Most people hate the feeling of being judged and/or looked down upon, but rarely do they raise their verbal shield of defense to deflect uninvited negativity. Judgmental people who have an insatiable need to feel superior to others love these people. They are more apt to being able to control these individuals. However, there is an undetermined breaking point when that person says enough is enough. Some people make it successfully thus graduating them to the Care-lackers grouping. Those who never do - they are the true Mutes!
The Followers can fall into two subsets: those who know they are and those that do not. The knowing Follower would rather sit on the right hand of the devil then the way of his or her wrath. These people join into a judgmental pattern thus creating and ultimately losing themselves in a self-manifested façade of a life. They eventually graduate to an independently judgmental being that can destroy without the direction of the leader. The second subset is those who do not know they are a Follower. Simply put, they are training to be independently selfish, judgmental and superior to others - if they are not already there. It is the peer pressure mentality - where there is strength in numbers. But really what you have to ask yourself is if you have a bunch of people who are really weak at the core, what kind of army are they truly forming? I say an unknowing self-loathing army.
The third group, the Care-lackers, are the ones who are wise to these people and refuse to let them make a chink in their armor. These are the ones that Judgmental people hate. They cannot get to them and even worse, they cannot control them. Since I am most familiar with this category, I see how these judgmental people treat the Care-lackers. They go out of their way to make us look badly. They say horrible things about us behind our backs. They do everything they can to make the Care-lackers uncomfortable. The problems is, the Care-lackers - LACK the care. Its only a dull-hum of annoyance to Care-lackers.
Personally, I take some strange comfort in knowing I dont care about who or what these people are and more importantly I dont care what they say about me. Anyone who would believe the smut that pours out of these peoples mouths belongs in the Followers category and therefore, subsequently, they are no friend of mine. Either way, I have a small group of close friends and family members and my life is in the best place it can possibly be in at this point - only to be in a better place tomorrow.
That is more then most people can say for themselves and something a judgmental person can only say and never truly mean.
Myspace Dating 101: A girls perspective
original post date: june 26th 2006
(Really, this applies to any online dating in general!)
1.) If a guy has a Myspace page and it is littered with trashy pictures of half dressed women - this speaks volumes to this particular guys character. Immediately ignore any and all emails and/or attempts at contacting you!
2.) If a guy allows comments that are trashy to be posted by his friends on his Myspace page this is equally as bad as number 1. You want a guy who respects himself, his friends and most especially the ladies. These guys who allow posts and put up pics like this are probably your average "frat bro" who thinks it hilarious to act like a teenager and secretly high-five each other after they put up the posts saying "good one maaan". After all, it is just a Myspace page, so why not...who really cares anyhow, right? WRONG!! HUGE red flag LADIES!!! And guys leave the locker room talk IN the locker room!
3.) LADIES: Ask to see multiple pictures of your interest! Ask if he has any pics from where he went this last weekend! YOU WANT CURRENT PICTURES, TRUST! I met up with a guy who looked SUPER hot in his picture...but it had to have been from at least 5 years back. When he showed up, he had gained about 50 lbs and somehow magically became unattractive! Don't be afraid to ask ladies you should enjoy your date too. You should not be saying to yourself, "Well at least I am getting a free dinner!!"
4.) NEVER and I mean NEVER, pick a place that you like and frequent to meet a guy for the 1st time. Once they know that's where you hang out you cannot shake them! These are always the guys who you DON'T like when you meet up. And of course, they show up on all the days you like to go up there because for some crazy reason, when you were planning the date you thought it would be a good idea to say, "Yeah, I totally go up there every Wednesday and Thursday night like clockwork! If you were to show up on one of those nights, you will find me there!!!" Dont get over eager ladies! WAIT until you have met the fellow in a nice, safe, and EASY to get out of situation!
5.) You get HIS number and you call him on your own schedule / time. Call from a blocked number - just good practice in general. You'd be surprised how many guys look hot online and have a really NOT masculine voice. TOTAL turn off for me! You don't want to have to save another "don't answer" in your phone! Too annoying!
6.) YOU pick the place! Pick a place that does not require you to be there for any extended period of time. Starbucks is a great, neutral meeting ground. You go you sit and have a coffee. If you don't like him - FINE...book! Also its a good idea to put things on a time table to start. Tell the guy, "I would love to meet up with you today for coffee at Starbucks. How does 1:00pm sound? But you should know I have an appointment I have to be at, at 2:00pm. I think it's the perfect time to just meet up and see if we mesh!" This way you have a "legit" out! If you like the guy - FABULOUS! But don't act too available. Leave for your "2:00pm appointment" and drop him your number. Tell him you are busy with work (or whatever) for the next few days but you should be good to go out again, assuming he wants to, on the weekend! At this point you know you like him - let HIM call you to see if its mutual!
7.) During your 1st meeting you need to make sure and cover everything on your list of qualifications! If religion is important talk about that ... family ... friends ... hang outs ... where he shops ... what kinda work he does ... etc. We all have our lists and the more veteran daters have a long laundry list of requirements - get it ALL covered!! This is a PRIORITY! You need to get a good idea of who this person is who's sitting across from you. You also have NOT seen him in a social situation so you want to get all your questions answered ASAP. Also, if something doesn't mesh - or you don't like his responses...BOOK! These are the ones that turn crazy!!
8.) Most importantly, NEVER let a guy know where you live until you start dating seriously! I mean for the first 3 or 4 times you go out - you meet him where ever y'all are going to be. If he is crazy - you never know when and/or where it will come out and you DEFINITELY don't want to be in the car with him when and/or if it does happen!
(Really, this applies to any online dating in general!)
1.) If a guy has a Myspace page and it is littered with trashy pictures of half dressed women - this speaks volumes to this particular guys character. Immediately ignore any and all emails and/or attempts at contacting you!
2.) If a guy allows comments that are trashy to be posted by his friends on his Myspace page this is equally as bad as number 1. You want a guy who respects himself, his friends and most especially the ladies. These guys who allow posts and put up pics like this are probably your average "frat bro" who thinks it hilarious to act like a teenager and secretly high-five each other after they put up the posts saying "good one maaan". After all, it is just a Myspace page, so why not...who really cares anyhow, right? WRONG!! HUGE red flag LADIES!!! And guys leave the locker room talk IN the locker room!
3.) LADIES: Ask to see multiple pictures of your interest! Ask if he has any pics from where he went this last weekend! YOU WANT CURRENT PICTURES, TRUST! I met up with a guy who looked SUPER hot in his picture...but it had to have been from at least 5 years back. When he showed up, he had gained about 50 lbs and somehow magically became unattractive! Don't be afraid to ask ladies you should enjoy your date too. You should not be saying to yourself, "Well at least I am getting a free dinner!!"
4.) NEVER and I mean NEVER, pick a place that you like and frequent to meet a guy for the 1st time. Once they know that's where you hang out you cannot shake them! These are always the guys who you DON'T like when you meet up. And of course, they show up on all the days you like to go up there because for some crazy reason, when you were planning the date you thought it would be a good idea to say, "Yeah, I totally go up there every Wednesday and Thursday night like clockwork! If you were to show up on one of those nights, you will find me there!!!" Dont get over eager ladies! WAIT until you have met the fellow in a nice, safe, and EASY to get out of situation!
5.) You get HIS number and you call him on your own schedule / time. Call from a blocked number - just good practice in general. You'd be surprised how many guys look hot online and have a really NOT masculine voice. TOTAL turn off for me! You don't want to have to save another "don't answer" in your phone! Too annoying!
6.) YOU pick the place! Pick a place that does not require you to be there for any extended period of time. Starbucks is a great, neutral meeting ground. You go you sit and have a coffee. If you don't like him - FINE...book! Also its a good idea to put things on a time table to start. Tell the guy, "I would love to meet up with you today for coffee at Starbucks. How does 1:00pm sound? But you should know I have an appointment I have to be at, at 2:00pm. I think it's the perfect time to just meet up and see if we mesh!" This way you have a "legit" out! If you like the guy - FABULOUS! But don't act too available. Leave for your "2:00pm appointment" and drop him your number. Tell him you are busy with work (or whatever) for the next few days but you should be good to go out again, assuming he wants to, on the weekend! At this point you know you like him - let HIM call you to see if its mutual!
7.) During your 1st meeting you need to make sure and cover everything on your list of qualifications! If religion is important talk about that ... family ... friends ... hang outs ... where he shops ... what kinda work he does ... etc. We all have our lists and the more veteran daters have a long laundry list of requirements - get it ALL covered!! This is a PRIORITY! You need to get a good idea of who this person is who's sitting across from you. You also have NOT seen him in a social situation so you want to get all your questions answered ASAP. Also, if something doesn't mesh - or you don't like his responses...BOOK! These are the ones that turn crazy!!
8.) Most importantly, NEVER let a guy know where you live until you start dating seriously! I mean for the first 3 or 4 times you go out - you meet him where ever y'all are going to be. If he is crazy - you never know when and/or where it will come out and you DEFINITELY don't want to be in the car with him when and/or if it does happen!
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