D
Dung Beetle
Guest
Food for thought, Cat, but the only way I can see this going well is if his dad gets on board too. It’s not…impossible…
O
olivesmarch4th
Guest
Well, my sun-protective clothing arrived, so I can finally go outside now.
I got all white stuff, because I thought, you know, white = cool and reflective.
So now I can walk about town on hot summer days... looking like a beekeeper. It's taking me back to my days in high school band camp, god, yes, high school band camp, where I was Queen Dork in a ridiculous camouflage hat and gloves all summer long. I am so looking forward to entering this new era of dorkery.
I got all white stuff, because I thought, you know, white = cool and reflective.
So now I can walk about town on hot summer days... looking like a beekeeper. It's taking me back to my days in high school band camp, god, yes, high school band camp, where I was Queen Dork in a ridiculous camouflage hat and gloves all summer long. I am so looking forward to entering this new era of dorkery.
M
Moonlitherial
Guest
Lady of the Lake said:
Apparently its everywhere, but the crazy step mom is in Toronto.
C
Chef Troy
Guest
When my son comes in my office YET AGAIN to talk about Bionicles for twenty uninterrupted minutes YET AGAIN, it's all I can do not to either start talking about Broadway musicals for twenty uninterrupted minutes or just look him in the eye and say, "Son, what in the world makes you think I will find this subject interesting? Have you NOT noticed me tuning you out and mumbling "mmm-hmmm" over and over again without so much as looking at you the last thirty times you've done this?"
I mean, REALLY. You're SIXTEEN. Start obsessing about GIRLS, for god's sake -- now THAT I'll talk about for as long as you want!
I mean, REALLY. You're SIXTEEN. Start obsessing about GIRLS, for god's sake -- now THAT I'll talk about for as long as you want!
C
Cat Whisperer
Guest
I would say our ongoing peeve with highway driving is the guy who has the line of 30 cars behind him, yet refuses to pull over to let people go by on a two-way highway with passing lanes few and far between (and yes, it's usually an old guy driving an RV). A corollary peeve to that is the people who refuse to pass on a two-way highway - you're not supposed to pass two or three cars in a row because it's so frigging dangerous, but some people simply will. not. pass. Now we're sitting behind them, waiting for them to get on with it, and people are piling up behind us, and it's just getting worse and worse and more dangerous by the minute.
T
the Lady
Guest
Urrgh. My sister went through the same thing at Christmas. Right down to the insane mother, and new baby nephew to remind her of her loss. Today would have been her due date. I totally understand. It sucked.
I hope your sister finds herself in the same situation as mine in a few months...
well into a healthy pregnancy.
N
NinjaChick
Guest
Oh, hey, two rants today.
My parents are both fucking neurotic. I love them, and think they did a more or less acceptable job of raising me - they weren't abusive and they put me through college, so I really can't complain - but they're fucking crazy. I'm 23. They apparently haven't yet figured out that if I send them a long email - which I spent several hours writing - saying, "I'm thinking of making major life change X. Here is where I want to get in life, here is *why* I want to get there, and here is how I reasonably believe X will get me there. Here are the major pros of X, and here are the cons. I'm not asking for your permission to do X, but you are my parents and so I would like your opinion." Some of the key benefits of X include financial independence, getting out of the shitty town I've stalled out in, and generally getting me on some sort of career path (rather than a stream of dead-end jobs).
Mom's response: "I got your email but I found it emotionally upsetting so I'm not going to think about it, but I Do Not Approve", because my mother has the emotional maturity of a golden retriever puppy.
Dad's response: "Your sister had done seventeen related things by the time she did Y, which is tangentially related to X. Also I think you should take more classes at community college, which cost money you don't have [and also the community college is at least an hour's bus ride away from where you live], and also you should do Z instead. Also you should do some research on the internet about X, because I obviously am completely incapable of reading what you fucking wrote, also I Don't Approve" because my father burned his brain out completely when he was my age, because he decided the best use of his time was to drop out of college and smoke fucktons of pot.
My parents are both fucking neurotic. I love them, and think they did a more or less acceptable job of raising me - they weren't abusive and they put me through college, so I really can't complain - but they're fucking crazy. I'm 23. They apparently haven't yet figured out that if I send them a long email - which I spent several hours writing - saying, "I'm thinking of making major life change X. Here is where I want to get in life, here is *why* I want to get there, and here is how I reasonably believe X will get me there. Here are the major pros of X, and here are the cons. I'm not asking for your permission to do X, but you are my parents and so I would like your opinion." Some of the key benefits of X include financial independence, getting out of the shitty town I've stalled out in, and generally getting me on some sort of career path (rather than a stream of dead-end jobs).
Mom's response: "I got your email but I found it emotionally upsetting so I'm not going to think about it, but I Do Not Approve", because my mother has the emotional maturity of a golden retriever puppy.
Dad's response: "Your sister had done seventeen related things by the time she did Y, which is tangentially related to X. Also I think you should take more classes at community college, which cost money you don't have [and also the community college is at least an hour's bus ride away from where you live], and also you should do Z instead. Also you should do some research on the internet about X, because I obviously am completely incapable of reading what you fucking wrote, also I Don't Approve" because my father burned his brain out completely when he was my age, because he decided the best use of his time was to drop out of college and smoke fucktons of pot.
You know what I fucking hate? Those shitty adverts they embed in websites nowadays that play the ad at full volume without you even choosing to click on them. For some reason, those ads are always on the slowest fucking websites so I'll be sitting there waiting for my...whatever the fuck it is I'm waiting for to come up and out of NOWHERE I'll hear "If you want real stain removing power, you want new Daz ultra-brite".
Motherfucker, I DON'T want real stain removing power. I DON'T want cheaper car insurance. I DON'T want a low-low-low APR credit card, and I DON'T want fifteen barrels of dick-hardening Chinese root potion, rejuvenating facial creams enriched with essence of pig fetus, a bumper pack of "Gussets" the canvas adult undergarment that'll never let you down, or whatever the fuck it is you're puking down my fucking broadband pipe. I ESPECIALLY don't want HEAR you talk about it! I don't want to know the benefits, be they economic, social, psycho-sexual, or existential. I don't care if buying your cunting fucking piece of shit kitchen utensil will finally fill that gaping spiritual void in my life and salve the dreadful psychic wounds which have reduced me to sputtering incoherence at the mere thought of you. I want you to FUCK OFF!
I don't mind the banner ads. Banner ads I can just about block out. I don't even mind these fucking multi-media surround sound adverts provided they remain mute until I click on them. But when you motherfucking hucksters start soliciting me without invitation, that's when you cross the line. That's when I feel the need to hunt you down and cut your eyes.
SHUT UP!
Motherfucker, I DON'T want real stain removing power. I DON'T want cheaper car insurance. I DON'T want a low-low-low APR credit card, and I DON'T want fifteen barrels of dick-hardening Chinese root potion, rejuvenating facial creams enriched with essence of pig fetus, a bumper pack of "Gussets" the canvas adult undergarment that'll never let you down, or whatever the fuck it is you're puking down my fucking broadband pipe. I ESPECIALLY don't want HEAR you talk about it! I don't want to know the benefits, be they economic, social, psycho-sexual, or existential. I don't care if buying your cunting fucking piece of shit kitchen utensil will finally fill that gaping spiritual void in my life and salve the dreadful psychic wounds which have reduced me to sputtering incoherence at the mere thought of you. I want you to FUCK OFF!
I don't mind the banner ads. Banner ads I can just about block out. I don't even mind these fucking multi-media surround sound adverts provided they remain mute until I click on them. But when you motherfucking hucksters start soliciting me without invitation, that's when you cross the line. That's when I feel the need to hunt you down and cut your eyes.
SHUT UP!
B
Bosstone
Guest
Hell, I don't know. She's been using style A as the default for the entire time she's been with us. She got a job for customer XYZ that needs style B, but she used style A. She was told that, in the future, she needs to use style B for customer XYZ. For some reason, she's incapable of understanding the "for customer XYZ" part and keeps thinking we're just saying "use style B," no matter how many different ways I try to explain it to her. She might have thought the current job in question was for customer XYZ, even though I told her twice it wasn't.
Maybe it all makes sense to her. Maybe shooting a cop made sense to the idiot mentioned upthread.
Maybe it all makes sense to her. Maybe shooting a cop made sense to the idiot mentioned upthread.
Well, the air's back on, but the guy who normally processes the newspapers is out so I had to do it. A hundred and fucking nine of them! I didn't finish until 4!
Look, New York. You keep telling us how busy and shit you are. So either you're the lyingest city in the world or nobody reads that motherfucking Sunday paper. Which isn't even anywhere near in order!
Look, New York. You keep telling us how busy and shit you are. So either you're the lyingest city in the world or nobody reads that motherfucking Sunday paper. Which isn't even anywhere near in order!
K
kaylasdad99
Guest
I long ago developed a theory that people do this on purpose, so nobody asks them for a handful of yummy, yummy popcorn.
Kind of like how (as kaylasmom recounts) my late mother-in-law used to put Tabasco sauce on her snacks (specifically peanut butter sandwiches), so her little nippers would let her have more than a single bite.
S
Sigmagirl
Guest
My sorority alumnae get together once a month for breakfast. Very informal, whoever wants to show up. Sometimes we have four people, sometimes we have 15. Yesterday there were about a dozen. Range in age from mid-20s to mid-80s.
After most of the people had cleared out, there were five of us left. One of them was a lady in her 80s. Dear, wonderful woman, widowed. Three master's degrees. Generous, known for her philanthropy and community involvement. My husband and I have been a little worried about her lately; she seems to be forgetting things. She's recently retired after a long career and doesn't have a secretary anymore. She uses a cell phone and only recently learned how to set it to vibrate, when I showed her how. Doesn't have any idea how to use a computer or e-mail.
She announced that she had seen an ad in the paper that the first 200 people to respond to the ad could get a very low-priced computer, so she had called. The rest of us looked at each other uneasily, and then at her in disbelief. I asked her if she had given her credit card number over the phone.
She couldn't remember. I asked if she still had the ad, or could remember when it was in the paper or the name of the company. She said she might still have the ad. I didn't want to alarm her, but I told her that it might not have been a good idea for her to have called the number, and that I would very much like to see the ad. She said she would try to find it. Another sister asked why she wanted a computer, but there was no response. (This lady has a history of ordering things from infomercials and QVC, but she has never been scammed that I know of; she just orders knickknacks and gives them away: She gave me a set of cake decorating tools once -- they weren't good quality, but at least she ordered them, received them, and nothing bad happened.)
But now? This terrifies me. I don't remember her former secretary's last name if I ever knew it, and her relatives live out of state and are as old as she is. I'm going to keep on her about this ad and where she saw it.
The woman sitting between us chirped: "I'm sure the paper has somebody checking those ads."
FAIL.
After most of the people had cleared out, there were five of us left. One of them was a lady in her 80s. Dear, wonderful woman, widowed. Three master's degrees. Generous, known for her philanthropy and community involvement. My husband and I have been a little worried about her lately; she seems to be forgetting things. She's recently retired after a long career and doesn't have a secretary anymore. She uses a cell phone and only recently learned how to set it to vibrate, when I showed her how. Doesn't have any idea how to use a computer or e-mail.
She announced that she had seen an ad in the paper that the first 200 people to respond to the ad could get a very low-priced computer, so she had called. The rest of us looked at each other uneasily, and then at her in disbelief. I asked her if she had given her credit card number over the phone.
She couldn't remember. I asked if she still had the ad, or could remember when it was in the paper or the name of the company. She said she might still have the ad. I didn't want to alarm her, but I told her that it might not have been a good idea for her to have called the number, and that I would very much like to see the ad. She said she would try to find it. Another sister asked why she wanted a computer, but there was no response. (This lady has a history of ordering things from infomercials and QVC, but she has never been scammed that I know of; she just orders knickknacks and gives them away: She gave me a set of cake decorating tools once -- they weren't good quality, but at least she ordered them, received them, and nothing bad happened.)
But now? This terrifies me. I don't remember her former secretary's last name if I ever knew it, and her relatives live out of state and are as old as she is. I'm going to keep on her about this ad and where she saw it.
The woman sitting between us chirped: "I'm sure the paper has somebody checking those ads."
FAIL.
M
Moonlitherial
Guest
In the bathroom, under that pile of stuff.
Nope, they're in the pantry under a pile of possibly but not definitely expired stuff.
O
overlyverbose
Guest
True - both parties do have to respect one another. And that is lacking in my mom and husband's relationship, and it's mutual. My mom doesn't understand parental boundaries, as in, she attempts to provide us unwanted advice on childrearing in an obnoxious manner, though she doesn't realize she's annoying us. My husband doesn't know how to pick his battles and Saturday was an example. In this case, the mess was relatively minor but my husband didn't even give my son a chance to correct it - he just went straight for the ultimatum, which wasn't fair.
Anyway, I think I'll take you up on that drink.
O
overlyverbose
Guest
Dear Mom,
You are a selfish, selfish human being and should be ashamed of yourself. I know I am. My sister called you yesterday to tell you that she may not be able to come to your house for the weekend because she's in the midst of a miscarriage of a baby you did not know she was pregnant with because she didn't want to deal with you. The only reason she told you was because she felt obligated to do so instead of telling you that she just didn't feel like coming.
And what did you do? Instead of supporting her when she needed it most, you flipped out, got completely hysterical, crying and yelling, "Oh, God, I'm devastated! I just can't deal with it now." Then you had the gall to call me, sobbing, talking about how your grandchild was taken away from you.
Well, guess what? You're not dealing with it now. Your child is. Remember, your eldest daughter - the one who's been carrying her husband for two and a half years until he finally got a job, has gone through multiple layoffs and has pined for the time she could finally start a family only to have it taken away? - is going through this. Or perhpaps you don't recall last Christmas - she was holding my baby daughter and sobbing because she didn't know when she could have one of her own. Man up and act like a fucking parent for once in your life. This isn't about you. Parenting means that you have to hold it together when your children need to fall apart.
Your daughter is devastated. And you just added to her misery because she had to comfort you when she needed your support the most. So, no, I will not apologize for getting mad at you when I spoke to you yesterday. I will instead reiterate that you need to shut the fuck up and stop crying long enough to tell your daughter that everything will be okay. That you know that telling her that this happens often doesn't make things better, but that you're here for her whatever she decides to do and when she and her husband want to try again. She doesn't need some hysterical drama queen who makes everyone else's tragedy hers.
Oh, and a bonus fuck you for telling me that I'm cold and heartless because I'm not crying. First, my sister needs a shoulder to cry on. She can't do that if I'm upset, too. Second, when you called, it wasn't even certain she would miscarry (unfortunately, now it's evident that that is likely what is happening now). Third, I don't have to cry to care. Take you, for example - you really don't care about your daughter's feelings. You clearly care about your own. And I will be damned if I fall apart when my sister needs me most.
Sometimes I don't even try not to hate you. Sometimes I wish my son didn't love you so much. Sometimes I wish that my sister didn't try so hard to love you, even when you hurt her.
Cheers, and I'll see you Friday (my sister is coming and I want to give her a buffer in case she needs it),
overly
You are a selfish, selfish human being and should be ashamed of yourself. I know I am. My sister called you yesterday to tell you that she may not be able to come to your house for the weekend because she's in the midst of a miscarriage of a baby you did not know she was pregnant with because she didn't want to deal with you. The only reason she told you was because she felt obligated to do so instead of telling you that she just didn't feel like coming.
And what did you do? Instead of supporting her when she needed it most, you flipped out, got completely hysterical, crying and yelling, "Oh, God, I'm devastated! I just can't deal with it now." Then you had the gall to call me, sobbing, talking about how your grandchild was taken away from you.
Well, guess what? You're not dealing with it now. Your child is. Remember, your eldest daughter - the one who's been carrying her husband for two and a half years until he finally got a job, has gone through multiple layoffs and has pined for the time she could finally start a family only to have it taken away? - is going through this. Or perhpaps you don't recall last Christmas - she was holding my baby daughter and sobbing because she didn't know when she could have one of her own. Man up and act like a fucking parent for once in your life. This isn't about you. Parenting means that you have to hold it together when your children need to fall apart.
Your daughter is devastated. And you just added to her misery because she had to comfort you when she needed your support the most. So, no, I will not apologize for getting mad at you when I spoke to you yesterday. I will instead reiterate that you need to shut the fuck up and stop crying long enough to tell your daughter that everything will be okay. That you know that telling her that this happens often doesn't make things better, but that you're here for her whatever she decides to do and when she and her husband want to try again. She doesn't need some hysterical drama queen who makes everyone else's tragedy hers.
Oh, and a bonus fuck you for telling me that I'm cold and heartless because I'm not crying. First, my sister needs a shoulder to cry on. She can't do that if I'm upset, too. Second, when you called, it wasn't even certain she would miscarry (unfortunately, now it's evident that that is likely what is happening now). Third, I don't have to cry to care. Take you, for example - you really don't care about your daughter's feelings. You clearly care about your own. And I will be damned if I fall apart when my sister needs me most.
Sometimes I don't even try not to hate you. Sometimes I wish my son didn't love you so much. Sometimes I wish that my sister didn't try so hard to love you, even when you hurt her.
Cheers, and I'll see you Friday (my sister is coming and I want to give her a buffer in case she needs it),
overly
S
Shot From Guns
Guest
"Psh, guys, c'mon! I wanna sound like a badass, not some fag!"
S
Shot From Guns
Guest
Find a better doctor. And maybe start a thread asking if anyone can share anecdotes about what worked for them--I know I've seen at least one other poster here mentioning getting a pre-menopause hysterectomy that wasn't "medically necessary."
S
Shot From Guns
Guest
I can't believe the kinds of shit that pops up between 2007 and earlier versions. I had to set up one of our guest computers as a second machine for one of my actuaries, just so that she could work on troubleshooting a problem that's showing up with one of the models she developed, but only in the newer Excel.
B
Bosstone
Guest
Hate Office 2007 with a bloody passion. And I've never even used it. It's just that annoying.
Someone in our department intentionally did something so mind-bogglingly stupid that he's not only going to be fired, but could end up sued from here to oblivion and blackballed from the industry.
They don't know who it is. But they most certainly will, within 2-3 days.
So what do they do? They pull us into a meeting, one team at a time, to demand that this person come forward and/or that if any of us know about it, come forward with the information.
Ok, fine, no problem there. Fully expected and understood.
But what does stupid motherfucker jerkface DICK of a Director do?
Say that his first thought on hearing about the issue was that he was going to fire our entire 60+ person department.
Thinking such a thing? Lame. Sign of a bad manager.
Saying it out loud to your people? Unprofessional beyond measure.
Dude, pack it up. You don't know how to manage people.
They don't know who it is. But they most certainly will, within 2-3 days.
So what do they do? They pull us into a meeting, one team at a time, to demand that this person come forward and/or that if any of us know about it, come forward with the information.
Ok, fine, no problem there. Fully expected and understood.
But what does stupid motherfucker jerkface DICK of a Director do?
Say that his first thought on hearing about the issue was that he was going to fire our entire 60+ person department.
Thinking such a thing? Lame. Sign of a bad manager.
Saying it out loud to your people? Unprofessional beyond measure.
Dude, pack it up. You don't know how to manage people.