Because I work in the liberal media, there are only two conservative columnists at my paper*. They each wrote an article for the days after the election. One of them, whom I actually respect a great deal, wrote about how the GOP let itself down with its fearmongering tactics and avoidance of issues, and saying such things as "the economy is basically sound." The other, who is a douche, whom I have thought of as a douche for years, who was actually fired for his douchiness in the past, wrote about how the country is going to be irreparably ruined and if those damn progressives hadn't gotten women the vote, we wouldn't be in the boat we're in (I am not making this up) and that unless we're all drooling morons -- which he strongly suspects we are -- we'll pack the House and Senate full of conservatives in 2010 when we've realised how screwed we are with liberals in charge.
Rich irony in running them both on the same page.
My father, while not quite the type to believe that Obama was some sort of Muslim Manchurian candidate... okay, yes, yes he did believe that until very strong evidence came out to the contrary, specifically NewsMax jumping on his "racist church" as implication that some sort of white subordination program would kick in if Obama won...
Where was I?
Okay. He's at least not the type to believe that Obama was actually the secret bastard lovechild of Malcolm X (A friend linked this to me as an example of the human tendency toward conspiracy). So he has that going for him, I suppose. So, while he doesn't frothingly agree with every conspiracy, he does think that McCain lost because those Democrats up in New Hampshire get together and decide on the least electable candidate and caucus for him in the open primaries.
Right, it's not because of the fearmongering, the no-name divisive VP pick (I know people who voted for Obama who would have gone for McCain/Lieberman), the "bomb iran" song...
We were actually blown away by people in the NH primaries, by the way. We'd ask them who they were going to vote for- "Oh, I'm hoping to vote for Clinton." "Well, what if she doesn't win the primary?" "Hmm, well, then, maybe I'd vote for McCain." Clinton or McCain, Clinton or McCain. It seems any registered Democrats caucusing for Republicans were going for ones they'd actually vote for.
Seriously, didn't Limbaugh tell Texas Republicans to register Democrat and caucus for Clinton?
Hi Pot, I'd like you to meet my friend Kettle. I think you'll find you have some things in common.
I will cherish the memory of my grandfather stating matter-of-factly that the US had no business going to Iraq in the first place, though- just for the way my father instantly shut up. Thanksgiving got a lot quieter right then. Ah, peace.
*This is unfair. One of them is actually our Opinion Editor, meaning he writes the most and has a fair amount of weight on the Editorial. We would also have someone writing rather conservatively about financial markets, if he hadn't quit before we could talk with him about his ass-holishness.
3.12.08
Oof-dah.
It's not only Wrath of the Lich King that's been stealing my time.
First and foremost: If you're in charge of writing paperwork-- any sort of documents I have to sign to make sure X Y or Z does or does not happen-- I hate you. Yes, you, personally.
I'm in the process of moving, which means I have to deal with my lease paperwork. My lease is handled by a company, not one single person, and I fall not entirely into two categories of what is an acceptable reason to get out the lease without penalty. So, I'm getting out okay, but my filed contract has a post-it on it explaining the circumstances. A post-it.
Also related to my moving is losing my insurance, and having to find health insurance to cover me until I'm set back up.
Man, you want to see something scary? Go look up what it costs to insure yourself. When it's coming out of your paycheck bit by bit, it's easy to not think about, but Christ.
Since I'm about to lose my insurance, dental included, I got to take a happy trip to do something which probably should have happened years ago: I got my wisdom teeth out. Apparently my dental insurance actually has a set amount it will cover per year, so, we ended up billing dental for the two teeth that had broken through, and medical for the two that hadn't. Paperwork.
Admittedly, Wrath has been stealing my time, and I tanked a few instances pretty stoned up on painkillers. This next part is babbling about WoW, so if you don't play, feel free to skip. ;)
My thoughts so far: There are some quests that feel very, very epic. Culling of Stratholme needs to be *more* epic, and they need to explain why we're helping his dumb ass in the first place. I'm finally feeling some motivation to level my character in the other faction-- Past, what, 40, all the quests are the same- STV, Gadgetzan, Plaguelands-- then you hit Outland, and what quests are separate are a) minor or b) equivalenced- such as a quest for each side to blow up a certain contraption. Different NPCs, same quest. On the other hand, you have some pretty epic quests in Northrend that are only to one side, or the equivalence has to be different. I really want to know what Wrathgate looks like from the other side.
From an RP sense, it's interesting as well, since we're learning a lot about history and doing some very major things along the way, and there's plenty of chances to wonder about your character's reaction to something outside the ordinary-- would your character torture this NPC for information, or not? And do you do the quests anyway, just handwaving and saying your character refused? Or do you actually skip them?
I've got some thoughts about politics, and some things that happened over the holidays with my family, but they're for later.
-C
First and foremost: If you're in charge of writing paperwork-- any sort of documents I have to sign to make sure X Y or Z does or does not happen-- I hate you. Yes, you, personally.
I'm in the process of moving, which means I have to deal with my lease paperwork. My lease is handled by a company, not one single person, and I fall not entirely into two categories of what is an acceptable reason to get out the lease without penalty. So, I'm getting out okay, but my filed contract has a post-it on it explaining the circumstances. A post-it.
Also related to my moving is losing my insurance, and having to find health insurance to cover me until I'm set back up.
Man, you want to see something scary? Go look up what it costs to insure yourself. When it's coming out of your paycheck bit by bit, it's easy to not think about, but Christ.
Since I'm about to lose my insurance, dental included, I got to take a happy trip to do something which probably should have happened years ago: I got my wisdom teeth out. Apparently my dental insurance actually has a set amount it will cover per year, so, we ended up billing dental for the two teeth that had broken through, and medical for the two that hadn't. Paperwork.
Admittedly, Wrath has been stealing my time, and I tanked a few instances pretty stoned up on painkillers. This next part is babbling about WoW, so if you don't play, feel free to skip. ;)
My thoughts so far: There are some quests that feel very, very epic. Culling of Stratholme needs to be *more* epic, and they need to explain why we're helping his dumb ass in the first place. I'm finally feeling some motivation to level my character in the other faction-- Past, what, 40, all the quests are the same- STV, Gadgetzan, Plaguelands-- then you hit Outland, and what quests are separate are a) minor or b) equivalenced- such as a quest for each side to blow up a certain contraption. Different NPCs, same quest. On the other hand, you have some pretty epic quests in Northrend that are only to one side, or the equivalence has to be different. I really want to know what Wrathgate looks like from the other side.
From an RP sense, it's interesting as well, since we're learning a lot about history and doing some very major things along the way, and there's plenty of chances to wonder about your character's reaction to something outside the ordinary-- would your character torture this NPC for information, or not? And do you do the quests anyway, just handwaving and saying your character refused? Or do you actually skip them?
I've got some thoughts about politics, and some things that happened over the holidays with my family, but they're for later.
-C
22.10.08
Having my opinions tweaked
Once upon a time, I went to a very conservative Christian school. This school was actually very good in education, but, as you might guess, it had some problems. I knew, it was a fact in my mind, that gay people were all oversexed, would hit on everyone of their desired gender, and loooved converting innocent straight people.
At this same time, I was hanging out with this group of girls, all older than I was. I don't remember now how we all knew eachother, but it was a loosely linked set of maybe 15 girls. One day, one of girls was relating a story about how a security guard someplace had been hitting on her, or maybe just talking to her and trying to say she should go talk to some of the guys at wherever she'd been at the time. And, she said, she finally told him she was gay, and he was actually very accepting about it, although curious, asking her questions about it.
Me, on the other hand, I was flabbergasted. She was gay? I found out later that I was the only one surprised, she'd been out a while. But, but, I knew her! I had a hard time thinking of her as oversexed, and she'd never hit on me-- wait, yes she had. She got me flowers on my birthday. But when I saw it as an innocent, non-flirtatious gift, that's where it ended. She was just a normal girl, wow.
I remember sitting in classes the few days, just thinking about this, completely blown away that, oh man, something I'd been taught had just been proven very wrong.
Similarly, years later, I had a good friend online, and her weight came up in a conversation with me and a few others, probably talking about dieting or health or somesuch related topic. She's... see, I hesitate to describe it, because it's still so negative in my mind. Long story short, some experimental antibiotics caused her weight to balloon from a healthy size to morbidly obese. At one point she was telling me that she'd lost about 300 pounds so far-- and hoped to lose another 100 or 150.
But I know I'd be really angry about someone describing her as "fat," even though I have no qualms about describing my rotund cousin as such. In my head, I try to defend this, saying that a) my cousin is a bitch and b) the "gland problem" that caused her weight was cleared up by 5th grade or so. I point out to myself that she doesn't seem to realise her size, being a cheerleader in high school (boys behind me at pep rallies describing it as too horrifying not to watch), worrying that her pregnancy would show. My own thought on finding out she was pregnant was to be aghast that someone had sex with her, and yet when I drive over and visit my friend and she tells me about her vacation with her boyfriend and all the condoms they went through, I laugh with her, not at her.
Maybe, to me, fat describes an attitude. Maybe I'm just a big hypocrite.
Lately I had been wondering what a friend of mine does for a living. I know her husband has some manner of high-end office job that sometimes entails travelling about the country, but while she might have a time conflict with a gaming night or because she's taking him to the airport, dropping the kid off at school, I couldn't remember her ever having a time conflict due to work. I don't generally consider myself nosy, but this was beginning to bother me -- how was it that I'm her friend but have no idea what she does? Surely she must do something, right?
I finally found out within the past week, and I've been having a smaller-scale version of the "Oh man. Wow." reaction I had to finding out that gay people weren't evil.
She's a mom. She's a writer, too, and recently published(Amazon got my copy to me a few days ago, and I loved it), but firstly she's a mother, a stay-at-home mom. (As an aside, her kid's 11 or so and is one of four kids I've met whom I don't want to shove in a barrel in a dark basement until it matures.)
She's very different from my perception of most stay-at-home-mothers, primarily because other stay at home mothers I've known seem to have few to no other skills and I suspect they stay at home because they never considered anything different. Rather, she's intelligent, an excellent writer and an excellent cook, with hobbies outside the home.
I still think most stay-at-home-moms, especially the ones who go online with screennames like Billysmom and momof4 (Don't you have a name outside of your children? Is your motherhood all that defines you?), made a career choice about as much as a high school drop out "chooses" to flip burgers the rest of his/her life.
But, I can't look down on her. I'm certainly not saying, "Wow, I used to like and respect you, but I found out you don't have a real job." I'm saying "Wow, I'm really surprised to find out this person I like and respect is a stay at home mom, and goes against all these stereotypes I have."
Or... "Huh. Wow."
At this same time, I was hanging out with this group of girls, all older than I was. I don't remember now how we all knew eachother, but it was a loosely linked set of maybe 15 girls. One day, one of girls was relating a story about how a security guard someplace had been hitting on her, or maybe just talking to her and trying to say she should go talk to some of the guys at wherever she'd been at the time. And, she said, she finally told him she was gay, and he was actually very accepting about it, although curious, asking her questions about it.
Me, on the other hand, I was flabbergasted. She was gay? I found out later that I was the only one surprised, she'd been out a while. But, but, I knew her! I had a hard time thinking of her as oversexed, and she'd never hit on me-- wait, yes she had. She got me flowers on my birthday. But when I saw it as an innocent, non-flirtatious gift, that's where it ended. She was just a normal girl, wow.
I remember sitting in classes the few days, just thinking about this, completely blown away that, oh man, something I'd been taught had just been proven very wrong.
Similarly, years later, I had a good friend online, and her weight came up in a conversation with me and a few others, probably talking about dieting or health or somesuch related topic. She's... see, I hesitate to describe it, because it's still so negative in my mind. Long story short, some experimental antibiotics caused her weight to balloon from a healthy size to morbidly obese. At one point she was telling me that she'd lost about 300 pounds so far-- and hoped to lose another 100 or 150.
But I know I'd be really angry about someone describing her as "fat," even though I have no qualms about describing my rotund cousin as such. In my head, I try to defend this, saying that a) my cousin is a bitch and b) the "gland problem" that caused her weight was cleared up by 5th grade or so. I point out to myself that she doesn't seem to realise her size, being a cheerleader in high school (boys behind me at pep rallies describing it as too horrifying not to watch), worrying that her pregnancy would show. My own thought on finding out she was pregnant was to be aghast that someone had sex with her, and yet when I drive over and visit my friend and she tells me about her vacation with her boyfriend and all the condoms they went through, I laugh with her, not at her.
Maybe, to me, fat describes an attitude. Maybe I'm just a big hypocrite.
Lately I had been wondering what a friend of mine does for a living. I know her husband has some manner of high-end office job that sometimes entails travelling about the country, but while she might have a time conflict with a gaming night or because she's taking him to the airport, dropping the kid off at school, I couldn't remember her ever having a time conflict due to work. I don't generally consider myself nosy, but this was beginning to bother me -- how was it that I'm her friend but have no idea what she does? Surely she must do something, right?
I finally found out within the past week, and I've been having a smaller-scale version of the "Oh man. Wow." reaction I had to finding out that gay people weren't evil.
She's a mom. She's a writer, too, and recently published(Amazon got my copy to me a few days ago, and I loved it), but firstly she's a mother, a stay-at-home mom. (As an aside, her kid's 11 or so and is one of four kids I've met whom I don't want to shove in a barrel in a dark basement until it matures.)
She's very different from my perception of most stay-at-home-mothers, primarily because other stay at home mothers I've known seem to have few to no other skills and I suspect they stay at home because they never considered anything different. Rather, she's intelligent, an excellent writer and an excellent cook, with hobbies outside the home.
I still think most stay-at-home-moms, especially the ones who go online with screennames like Billysmom and momof4 (Don't you have a name outside of your children? Is your motherhood all that defines you?), made a career choice about as much as a high school drop out "chooses" to flip burgers the rest of his/her life.
But, I can't look down on her. I'm certainly not saying, "Wow, I used to like and respect you, but I found out you don't have a real job." I'm saying "Wow, I'm really surprised to find out this person I like and respect is a stay at home mom, and goes against all these stereotypes I have."
Or... "Huh. Wow."
1.10.08
If you say insightful things too often, people start coming to you to talk.
In real life, I tell a lot of stories about zany adventures. My friends have commented that I live an interesting life. No, no, I say. I'm just the scribe. It's the other people who have the stories.
I have two stories today. One is from WoW, one isn't.
Story number one. I'm doing some minor housekeeping and accounting in WoW, when a girl I know asks if I could critique her characters, because they suck, she says. (I play on an RP server.) Most people, their character is an extension of their own mind in some way-- what they want to be, what they would be, what they have been (details like being a Night Elf or former Stockades inmate not withstanding). I gently advise her of this fact before pointing out that her characters are emo, mean, or incapable.
I find out later that she's asking because one of our regular RP buddies finally snapped at her. This has been boiling for months, so I'm unsurprised, but I understand how she was. We talked about friends; she asked me if we were friends-- I said not very much, but I'm not hostile to her. We talked about the psychiatric profession. I'm hoping that maybe being the third person to voice to her that she *should* talk to a counselor will tip the scales. We talked a little bit about my own chat with the psychiatrist, so I hope that will make it a little easier on her, knowing that someone she knows has done it and not had the world collapse on her.
She said, "You're a good listener, C, even if we're not really friends."
I said, "Yeah, every once in a while, I say stuff that's insightful, but if you do it too often, people stop listening to you altogether. Or they want your advice all the time."
I told her that she was handling this more maturely than the last person I had to have a similar talk with, who is still not speaking to me. (That girl is a story for another time.)
I excused myself from her, to write a note to another friend, who has been having some trouble with boys lately.
A real estate agent shows you a house. It is a beautiful house, with everything you didn't even know you wanted, well within your price range. The real estate agent tells you that she feels obligated to tell you that it did have a very minor ghost problem, but they've had priests come out and it's fine now. Do you buy the house?
You order an affordable but kindof mid-quality cut of steak. Your steak is late coming, your waitress tells you that there was a mix-up, it's going to be a bit longer on your steak because they had to cook it over- but they're upgrading it on the house to the really good cut of steak. Are you happy with the outcome?
You are on the search for the Holy Grail. You have dug through centuries of myth, theft, under-the-table sales and conspiracy theories, and you have found it! The person who has it now is well aware of what it is, you can feel the power of god radiating from it-- and he's going to *give you* the Holy Grail because it has a gem missing out of one side and he hates it. Do you gladly take it, realising this guy is a buffoon?
If you're a 20-something young man who answered yes to all of that, I have a great girl for you to meet.
She wrote a blog post about her troubles, and I sent her a note in response. I told her she is smart, mature, attractive. I told her if she needs a hug, I'm here; I told her that while I can't say I've been in her exact situation, but I can relate in tiny tiny ways. I told her I have a recording of a guy saying that "smart, attractive, a nerd, and actually likes you" is the holy grail of women.
My heart goes out to her-- she's intelligent, eloquent, mature, incredibly kind (and diplomatic when people are assholes to her), and she really is attractive. (I didn't say specifically in my note to her, not wanting to sound like a perv, but she's got great legs. She's probably the only girl I've seen who can wear those short shorts without looking skanky or horribly disproportionate. )
Too good to be true? Yeah, she hears that a lot. Usually shortly before she gets to the part of the date where, because she's painfully honest in addition to all her other good qualities, she has a talk with them that ends with her turning her head and putting her fingers on her Adam's apple.
I don't know. I almost think she shouldn't tell people till later in the relationship, but then what? They can not take the chance to get to know her, or she doesn't tell them and they get mad at her for dragging it out.
It's a good thing she can be diplomatic to assholes, because she's sure dealing with a lot.
I have two stories today. One is from WoW, one isn't.
Story number one. I'm doing some minor housekeeping and accounting in WoW, when a girl I know asks if I could critique her characters, because they suck, she says. (I play on an RP server.) Most people, their character is an extension of their own mind in some way-- what they want to be, what they would be, what they have been (details like being a Night Elf or former Stockades inmate not withstanding). I gently advise her of this fact before pointing out that her characters are emo, mean, or incapable.
I find out later that she's asking because one of our regular RP buddies finally snapped at her. This has been boiling for months, so I'm unsurprised, but I understand how she was. We talked about friends; she asked me if we were friends-- I said not very much, but I'm not hostile to her. We talked about the psychiatric profession. I'm hoping that maybe being the third person to voice to her that she *should* talk to a counselor will tip the scales. We talked a little bit about my own chat with the psychiatrist, so I hope that will make it a little easier on her, knowing that someone she knows has done it and not had the world collapse on her.
She said, "You're a good listener, C, even if we're not really friends."
I said, "Yeah, every once in a while, I say stuff that's insightful, but if you do it too often, people stop listening to you altogether. Or they want your advice all the time."
I told her that she was handling this more maturely than the last person I had to have a similar talk with, who is still not speaking to me. (That girl is a story for another time.)
I excused myself from her, to write a note to another friend, who has been having some trouble with boys lately.
A real estate agent shows you a house. It is a beautiful house, with everything you didn't even know you wanted, well within your price range. The real estate agent tells you that she feels obligated to tell you that it did have a very minor ghost problem, but they've had priests come out and it's fine now. Do you buy the house?
You order an affordable but kindof mid-quality cut of steak. Your steak is late coming, your waitress tells you that there was a mix-up, it's going to be a bit longer on your steak because they had to cook it over- but they're upgrading it on the house to the really good cut of steak. Are you happy with the outcome?
You are on the search for the Holy Grail. You have dug through centuries of myth, theft, under-the-table sales and conspiracy theories, and you have found it! The person who has it now is well aware of what it is, you can feel the power of god radiating from it-- and he's going to *give you* the Holy Grail because it has a gem missing out of one side and he hates it. Do you gladly take it, realising this guy is a buffoon?
If you're a 20-something young man who answered yes to all of that, I have a great girl for you to meet.
She wrote a blog post about her troubles, and I sent her a note in response. I told her she is smart, mature, attractive. I told her if she needs a hug, I'm here; I told her that while I can't say I've been in her exact situation, but I can relate in tiny tiny ways. I told her I have a recording of a guy saying that "smart, attractive, a nerd, and actually likes you" is the holy grail of women.
My heart goes out to her-- she's intelligent, eloquent, mature, incredibly kind (and diplomatic when people are assholes to her), and she really is attractive. (I didn't say specifically in my note to her, not wanting to sound like a perv, but she's got great legs. She's probably the only girl I've seen who can wear those short shorts without looking skanky or horribly disproportionate. )
Too good to be true? Yeah, she hears that a lot. Usually shortly before she gets to the part of the date where, because she's painfully honest in addition to all her other good qualities, she has a talk with them that ends with her turning her head and putting her fingers on her Adam's apple.
I don't know. I almost think she shouldn't tell people till later in the relationship, but then what? They can not take the chance to get to know her, or she doesn't tell them and they get mad at her for dragging it out.
It's a good thing she can be diplomatic to assholes, because she's sure dealing with a lot.
15.9.08
Gift from my brother
I've never been a fan of my birthday, or other people's birthdays. Christmas either, but that's more recent, because of all the Happy Holidays/Merry Christmas kvetching.
I don't like having that much attention focused on me, and if you tell the restaurant crew that it's my birthday and they come and sing obnoxious songs at me, so help me, I'm going to leave you at the table with the bill.
Also, I've got enough stuff already. I keep moving to apartments and then not unpacking half my shit because I don't need it. There's a box under my bed right now that's been moved every time i move for about four years now without being unpacked all the way. It's mostly art supplies.
But, more, I hate getting gifts that I feel like I've asked for by telling someone it's my birthday. I hate people asking me what I want for my birthday. If you should be getting me a gift, you'd probably already have a decent guess. I'd rather get a gift that's not quite something I wanted, but the person put thought into it, than get a gift that they just asked me what I wanted and they got exactly that without thinking.
So, usually I just tell people to donate to a charity for me. A charity that I'd like-- I usually suggest one, so people don't go off donating to the GOP or various anti-gay-marriage "family" groups in my name. Last year it was America's Second Harvest/Feeding America.
People get pissy when I tell them this. I guess they're insulted, but I can't figure out exactly why. Maybe it's supposed to prove my friendship if I display the pointless crap they give me.
This is all leading up to the fact that I got an email from my brother the other day, wishing me a happy early birthday and telling me about my gift.
Turns out he just got to the FGM section of his human sexuality textbook in class. He says he apologises for any previous idiocy on his part, and has put a check in the mail to donate $50 to an organisation against it.
See? What's bad about that?
I don't like having that much attention focused on me, and if you tell the restaurant crew that it's my birthday and they come and sing obnoxious songs at me, so help me, I'm going to leave you at the table with the bill.
Also, I've got enough stuff already. I keep moving to apartments and then not unpacking half my shit because I don't need it. There's a box under my bed right now that's been moved every time i move for about four years now without being unpacked all the way. It's mostly art supplies.
But, more, I hate getting gifts that I feel like I've asked for by telling someone it's my birthday. I hate people asking me what I want for my birthday. If you should be getting me a gift, you'd probably already have a decent guess. I'd rather get a gift that's not quite something I wanted, but the person put thought into it, than get a gift that they just asked me what I wanted and they got exactly that without thinking.
So, usually I just tell people to donate to a charity for me. A charity that I'd like-- I usually suggest one, so people don't go off donating to the GOP or various anti-gay-marriage "family" groups in my name. Last year it was America's Second Harvest/Feeding America.
People get pissy when I tell them this. I guess they're insulted, but I can't figure out exactly why. Maybe it's supposed to prove my friendship if I display the pointless crap they give me.
This is all leading up to the fact that I got an email from my brother the other day, wishing me a happy early birthday and telling me about my gift.
Turns out he just got to the FGM section of his human sexuality textbook in class. He says he apologises for any previous idiocy on his part, and has put a check in the mail to donate $50 to an organisation against it.
See? What's bad about that?
8.9.08
If your kid is a fuck up, you are a fuck up.
Okay, I think Palin is a bad choice for VP. I think this for a lot of reasons, mostly having to do with her lack of experience, blatant lying, and corruption charges. There's also that I think McCain should have said a hearty "Fuck You" to all the people telling him not to go with Lieberman or someone similarly moderate-- The Republicans are going to vote for you, the Democrats (barring the crazy ones) are going to vote for Obama. It's the undecided voters who you have to attract. If conservative voters think you aren't conservative enough, they aren't going to throw a hissy and vote for Obama (unless they're the parallels to the Clinton-> McCain people, who I suppose might exist). Go moderate! Attract the undecideds! Don't drive them away!
Anyway. I've been accused of thinking this because I'm sexist. I'm probably not going to convince these people that I'm not.
But, I think this image is hysterical. So apparently now I'm picking on her kids.
No, see, I'm not. I feel bad for Bristol. She's in an embarrassing situation (or I'd like to think it's embarrassing, but times change), and she's under media scrutiny to boot. Furthermore, I highly doubt that marrying her boyfriend is her idea (or his). I feel bad for all those kids, because there's five of them and I think that's a bad idea in general.
I'm picking on her mother. Because Bristol's pregnancy is her mom's fault. Or her dad's. Both, really. It's her parents' fault.
A teenage pregnancy represents a critical failure in parenting. I'm not saying all fuck ups get knocked up, or that if your kid isn't up the duff that you're doing fine. I am saying that, if your daughter is pregnant/your son knocked a girl up, you (singular or plural, depending on how many parents there are) fucked up bad somewhere down the line.
I highly doubt there are exceptions to this.
You, the Palin family, the Spears family, the family of anyone you knew in high school (or god forbid middle school) who was knocked up/knocked someone up, failed. There's no partial credit here. Almost doesn't count.
Your (their) failure was in one or more of these areas:
-Keeping an eye on your damn kid. I realise this isn't possible 24/7, but you should know who your kid is hanging around with and what sort of people they are.
-Raising your kid with your belief system (if applicable). I'm willing to bet Sarah Palin thinks you should stay a virgin till you're married, but evidently she didn't get that through to Bristol.
-Teaching your kid about sex and birth control. Even if you hope your kid will never use the information, even if your religion bans birth control entirely. Because (see last point) your kid may find themselves wanting that information. If you tell your kid that condoms fail more often than they succeed, and your kid doesn't use them, that is your fault. If you neglect to tell your kids that "pull & pray" is not a valid BC option, and they use that, it is your fault.
These three are supplementary reasons. They always go with this, the one thing that I've noticed in all teenage pregnancies (and related teenage fuckups like eloping with a random internet 30-year-old) :
You failed to instill the respect for her/himself and others needed to not have sex then.
Maybe you never paid enough attention to your kid and s/he thinks you don't love him/her.
Maybe you support your daughter's shopping habit instead of making sure she has self esteem that isn't contingent on others' approval.
Maybe you never had the chat with your son that every woman is someone's daughter, and possibly someone's sister or their future wife- treat her like you'd want someone else to treat your future wife.
Maybe you never told your kids that if their friends wouldn't be friends with them over something they didn't want to do, they're not their friends in the first place.
Maybe you didn't inspire your children to strive for anything better. The girls who got pregnant when I was in high school stayed in that small town, working jobs like gas station clerk and ice cream scooper. None have gotten any education after high school, not even stupid pottery courses at the local community college or anything like that. Some still live with their parents. But hey, why not have a baby in high school if no-one's ever showed you how life great can be if you get to go at it full force, if no-one's shown the confidence in you to tell you about it?
This is the vital one. Tell your kids that they don't have to have sex to be cool, they don't have to have sex to be loved. Tell them that they can see the world and have everything they never even knew they wanted, if they don't limit themselves by having a baby in high school. Make sure they believe you.
If you were a teenage parent yourself, is less damaging for you to say "I(we) love you and I couldn't live without you, but I could have given you a better life if I'd waited a few years to have you" than for you to let them believe that what you did was fine or even brilliant. If you have a first-hand example of how hard it was and how you never got the things you wanted, and you don't get it through to your kid, you are a double fuck up.
If you are the guardian of a teen who is/got someone else pregnant, you cannot call yourself a parent. Your lack of parenting ability has gimped your child's chances of a successful future. The fault for your kid's fuck up falls squarely on you. You are a fuck up.
Anyway. I've been accused of thinking this because I'm sexist. I'm probably not going to convince these people that I'm not.
But, I think this image is hysterical. So apparently now I'm picking on her kids.
No, see, I'm not. I feel bad for Bristol. She's in an embarrassing situation (or I'd like to think it's embarrassing, but times change), and she's under media scrutiny to boot. Furthermore, I highly doubt that marrying her boyfriend is her idea (or his). I feel bad for all those kids, because there's five of them and I think that's a bad idea in general.
I'm picking on her mother. Because Bristol's pregnancy is her mom's fault. Or her dad's. Both, really. It's her parents' fault.
A teenage pregnancy represents a critical failure in parenting. I'm not saying all fuck ups get knocked up, or that if your kid isn't up the duff that you're doing fine. I am saying that, if your daughter is pregnant/your son knocked a girl up, you (singular or plural, depending on how many parents there are) fucked up bad somewhere down the line.
I highly doubt there are exceptions to this.
You, the Palin family, the Spears family, the family of anyone you knew in high school (or god forbid middle school) who was knocked up/knocked someone up, failed. There's no partial credit here. Almost doesn't count.
Your (their) failure was in one or more of these areas:
-Keeping an eye on your damn kid. I realise this isn't possible 24/7, but you should know who your kid is hanging around with and what sort of people they are.
-Raising your kid with your belief system (if applicable). I'm willing to bet Sarah Palin thinks you should stay a virgin till you're married, but evidently she didn't get that through to Bristol.
-Teaching your kid about sex and birth control. Even if you hope your kid will never use the information, even if your religion bans birth control entirely. Because (see last point) your kid may find themselves wanting that information. If you tell your kid that condoms fail more often than they succeed, and your kid doesn't use them, that is your fault. If you neglect to tell your kids that "pull & pray" is not a valid BC option, and they use that, it is your fault.
These three are supplementary reasons. They always go with this, the one thing that I've noticed in all teenage pregnancies (and related teenage fuckups like eloping with a random internet 30-year-old) :
You failed to instill the respect for her/himself and others needed to not have sex then.
Maybe you never paid enough attention to your kid and s/he thinks you don't love him/her.
Maybe you support your daughter's shopping habit instead of making sure she has self esteem that isn't contingent on others' approval.
Maybe you never had the chat with your son that every woman is someone's daughter, and possibly someone's sister or their future wife- treat her like you'd want someone else to treat your future wife.
Maybe you never told your kids that if their friends wouldn't be friends with them over something they didn't want to do, they're not their friends in the first place.
Maybe you didn't inspire your children to strive for anything better. The girls who got pregnant when I was in high school stayed in that small town, working jobs like gas station clerk and ice cream scooper. None have gotten any education after high school, not even stupid pottery courses at the local community college or anything like that. Some still live with their parents. But hey, why not have a baby in high school if no-one's ever showed you how life great can be if you get to go at it full force, if no-one's shown the confidence in you to tell you about it?
This is the vital one. Tell your kids that they don't have to have sex to be cool, they don't have to have sex to be loved. Tell them that they can see the world and have everything they never even knew they wanted, if they don't limit themselves by having a baby in high school. Make sure they believe you.
If you were a teenage parent yourself, is less damaging for you to say "I(we) love you and I couldn't live without you, but I could have given you a better life if I'd waited a few years to have you" than for you to let them believe that what you did was fine or even brilliant. If you have a first-hand example of how hard it was and how you never got the things you wanted, and you don't get it through to your kid, you are a double fuck up.
If you are the guardian of a teen who is/got someone else pregnant, you cannot call yourself a parent. Your lack of parenting ability has gimped your child's chances of a successful future. The fault for your kid's fuck up falls squarely on you. You are a fuck up.
5.9.08
Diplomacy and the workplace.
I was talking to a friend about some stuff happening at my job recently, and she said "C, every time you talk about work, I'm glad I don't work in [your branch of the media]."
I was talking with another friend some time ago about the same things, and he said that what I was complaining about was why he quit the media altogether.
Now, I love my job. Really. The problem is the people I work with. I'd do it for free if it showed up under my door every morning and I never had to deal with anyone else. My meager paycheck is bribing me to show up to the office itself.
One of my coworkers, we shall call her "Evil Ad Cow"(She's not really evil, but she is quick to anger and indignation), is between me and part of my job. There are a few very small tasks I can complete in the morning without her, like opening the programs and Web sites I'll be using, but then I'm stranded until she produces the specifications of what I can use where. I have a morning prep shift from 9 a.m. until 11 a.m., this sheet of specifications was not coming into my hands until 10:40. Questioning her about it revealed that she had until noon to get it to us, and she got it to us by 10 or 10:30 as "a courtesy," but she'll see if she can't get it done earlier. (She is in another department, which has apparently not been in the loop about how we're going to get more work done across the day.)
This week, the sheet is in my inbox before I even show up! I finish my work, get it all done-- and I stop by her office on my way out, to thank her and tell her that I really appreciate her getting the sheet to me early.
"Thank you, C," she chirps back, "I had some time before a meeting this morning, I'll try to keep getting it to you early."
Look! Look how easy that was!
On the other hand, we have a co-worker of mine, whom we will call Dylan (for reasons that will become apparent if I ever tell the Other Story about him). Recently, Dylan looked over a project he had not been involved in and found it to be very sub-par.
Dylan took all the e-mail addresses he could find in our department (missing some people, including a few who did not work here anymore) and sent out a long email with the subject line of" [DEPARTMENT], You really dropped the ball!"
He went on to tell us how we (I say we, but it's two people per project and this wasn't mine) made simple mistakes that could have been caught if we had any idea what this had been about, and since we clearly didn't we should have looked online, that we should have changed X (what he wanted changed was a valid thing for this type of project, even if he disagreed), and dropped an all-caps F word along the way.
I guess in training meetings where I've explained how diplomacy gets you your results so much faster, I hadn't been looking pointedly enough at him.
"Hey guys, when you're trying to get something worked out with another department, I know sometimes it's frustrating. But if you go over and say, '[Department!] You got this wrong and you need to fix it right now,' they will get defensive and not work with you. If you go over and say 'There's a problem, and these are the options for you to fix it,' they will 99% of the time fix it on short order. So apply some tact and diplomacy, it works wonders."
Dylan's complaint about other departments is, verbatim, "they get defensive and won't work with me." But he goes over and says, loudly, "You got this wrong and you need to fix it right now" whenever there's an issue.
I'm baffled at how he's never absorbed this, never absorbed that this chat about diplomacy was based on how his own words don't work, but then I remember the Other Story and say "Well, I suppose he's an egocentric nutjob misanthrope, so I shouldn't be surprised."
At any rate. As you might guess, the people who "dropped the ball" did not come forward seeking absolution, and in fact a meeting was scheduled for our immediate boss, the boss of our department of departments, and the Editor in Chief to have a happy chat about Dylan and what they wanted to do about this.
However (breaking news, I found this out as I was typing this), Dylan opted to quit the day the meeting was supposed to happen.
Ha, ha, ha. Good riddance.
Moral of the story: If you don't want the office to think you're a dickhead who's impossible to work with, don't be a dickhead who's impossible to work with.
---
Grammar of the day: Dangling modifiers.
Incorrect: "The dump will only be taking tree branches from city residents that were damaged during the storm." Residents damaged during the storm probably have more important things to worry about than who will take their tree branches.
Incorrect: "The dump will only be taking tree branches that were damaged during the storm from city residents." The city residents were not what damaged the branches during the storm.
Correct: "The dump will only be taking tree branches that were damaged during the storm, and only city residents are eligible."
I was talking with another friend some time ago about the same things, and he said that what I was complaining about was why he quit the media altogether.
Now, I love my job. Really. The problem is the people I work with. I'd do it for free if it showed up under my door every morning and I never had to deal with anyone else. My meager paycheck is bribing me to show up to the office itself.
One of my coworkers, we shall call her "Evil Ad Cow"(She's not really evil, but she is quick to anger and indignation), is between me and part of my job. There are a few very small tasks I can complete in the morning without her, like opening the programs and Web sites I'll be using, but then I'm stranded until she produces the specifications of what I can use where. I have a morning prep shift from 9 a.m. until 11 a.m., this sheet of specifications was not coming into my hands until 10:40. Questioning her about it revealed that she had until noon to get it to us, and she got it to us by 10 or 10:30 as "a courtesy," but she'll see if she can't get it done earlier. (She is in another department, which has apparently not been in the loop about how we're going to get more work done across the day.)
This week, the sheet is in my inbox before I even show up! I finish my work, get it all done-- and I stop by her office on my way out, to thank her and tell her that I really appreciate her getting the sheet to me early.
"Thank you, C," she chirps back, "I had some time before a meeting this morning, I'll try to keep getting it to you early."
Look! Look how easy that was!
On the other hand, we have a co-worker of mine, whom we will call Dylan (for reasons that will become apparent if I ever tell the Other Story about him). Recently, Dylan looked over a project he had not been involved in and found it to be very sub-par.
Dylan took all the e-mail addresses he could find in our department (missing some people, including a few who did not work here anymore) and sent out a long email with the subject line of" [DEPARTMENT], You really dropped the ball!"
He went on to tell us how we (I say we, but it's two people per project and this wasn't mine) made simple mistakes that could have been caught if we had any idea what this had been about, and since we clearly didn't we should have looked online, that we should have changed X (what he wanted changed was a valid thing for this type of project, even if he disagreed), and dropped an all-caps F word along the way.
I guess in training meetings where I've explained how diplomacy gets you your results so much faster, I hadn't been looking pointedly enough at him.
"Hey guys, when you're trying to get something worked out with another department, I know sometimes it's frustrating. But if you go over and say, '[Department!] You got this wrong and you need to fix it right now,' they will get defensive and not work with you. If you go over and say 'There's a problem, and these are the options for you to fix it,' they will 99% of the time fix it on short order. So apply some tact and diplomacy, it works wonders."
Dylan's complaint about other departments is, verbatim, "they get defensive and won't work with me." But he goes over and says, loudly, "You got this wrong and you need to fix it right now" whenever there's an issue.
I'm baffled at how he's never absorbed this, never absorbed that this chat about diplomacy was based on how his own words don't work, but then I remember the Other Story and say "Well, I suppose he's an egocentric nutjob misanthrope, so I shouldn't be surprised."
At any rate. As you might guess, the people who "dropped the ball" did not come forward seeking absolution, and in fact a meeting was scheduled for our immediate boss, the boss of our department of departments, and the Editor in Chief to have a happy chat about Dylan and what they wanted to do about this.
However (breaking news, I found this out as I was typing this), Dylan opted to quit the day the meeting was supposed to happen.
Ha, ha, ha. Good riddance.
Moral of the story: If you don't want the office to think you're a dickhead who's impossible to work with, don't be a dickhead who's impossible to work with.
---
Grammar of the day: Dangling modifiers.
Incorrect: "The dump will only be taking tree branches from city residents that were damaged during the storm." Residents damaged during the storm probably have more important things to worry about than who will take their tree branches.
Incorrect: "The dump will only be taking tree branches that were damaged during the storm from city residents." The city residents were not what damaged the branches during the storm.
Correct: "The dump will only be taking tree branches that were damaged during the storm, and only city residents are eligible."
31.8.08
Walk, you fucking lazy bastards.
I went with my fiance and some friends this weekend to an event one state over. He remarked that gas was about 12 cents more expensive there than it was here. One of the girls in our car commented: "At least gas isn't $4 per gallon."
My response: "That's like saying 'At least the dog only shit on the rug instead of rubbing it in'."
People who whine about gas prices are beginning to infuriate me because I know that gas will be $12/gallon before some of them give up their precious SUVs. I'm sick of polls asking people what gas price it will take before they change their driving habits, because I changed my driving habits when gas hit two dollars per gallon-- but it's not saving me much money, because I'm using half the gas at twice the price because peanut-dicks in H2s keep the demand high.
I used to drive like a lunatic. I knew exactly what manner of speed my car could reach on the low-traffic bit of highway between where I was and where I needed to be. Then gas started hitting 2 dollars, 2.20, 2.50. I told myself that fuel cost too much to drive inefficiently, and that I'd go back to driving like a bat out of hell when it fell back below two dollars.
Admittedly I still treat the speed limit as a suggestion, because going 55 on a flat road with no visibility issues and no other cars is fucking stupid, but I don't reach triple digits and coast the last few miles into town like I did then.
3 dollars per gallon? I don't visit my parents as much anymore, and I carpool when I do.
Almost 4 dollars? My car is staying where it is, I'm biking to my friends' houses and taking the bus to go grocery shopping. This weekend's drive could have been 4 cars with 2 people each, but we did it with one car and a van.
My mother has driven a little Geo Metro as long as I can remember. She buys extras, even busted ones from repo auctions, and she fixes them up to drive around. They get about 50 miles to the gallon. She's allowed to bitch about gas prices, because she's doing everything she can to conserve gas.
My father, on the other hand, drives a car that gets about half that. He insisted on visiting my brother recently, because my brother had left something at his house. Instead of mailing it for ~$20, my father drove here and back for about $40 in gas. My mother suggested taking a Metro; my father wanted to take a car with air conditioning.(My mother and I both roll our windows down.) He is not allowed to bitch.
If you drive a vehicle that gets less than 30mpg, without good reason*, you are not allowed to complain about fuel costs.
If you drive a Hummer or any sort of Hummer cross breed, an earnest discussion with your doctor will reveal amazing strides in penis enlargements, from pills to pumps to surgeries.
I'm angry that gas is a currency now-- When his car broke down, my father paid the guy who fixed it by filling up his truck. In high school, I paid for a friend's gas as part of flirting with him, like you might surprise someone with a CD you thought s/he'd like; now, a tank of gas costs more than a dozen roses.
Yes, gas companies raise prices because of looming hurricanes and whatnot, but they also raise them because they can. You'll note gas companies posting record profits this year-- I'm not talking about record gross income, mind you. Record profits.
Last time you drove by the gas station and said, damn, gas went up 10 cents this weekend, did you pick up an ad for a motor scooter?
Last time you filled up your car for the second time this week, did you map the distance from home to work to see whether it might be walkable?
Last time your debit card crossed your daily withdrawal limit because you got gas in the morning, did you swing by the bike shop?
Last time you debated not going on vacation because of gas costs, did you check your tire pressure, your oil, and your air filter?
I didn't think so. Suck it up, fuckwit, they've got no reason to lower gas prices when you keep buying it. Your whining is not part of the solution. You are not part of the solution. You're part of the problem. Shut the fuck up and do something about it, because I'm not going to pull over and help when I see you stranded on the side of one of those long gas station-less stretches of highway-- I will laugh my ass off instead.
*Good reason will be defined as "I live someplace where an SUV is actually a requirement to get out of my driveway" (this is true for one of my aunts), "I have more children than there are seatbelts in a normal car, including having someone sit in the middle of the back seat," (although I point out that this is your own fault), and "I only drive this vehicle when I have to, if I'm not hauling something then I drive an appropriate car."
My response: "That's like saying 'At least the dog only shit on the rug instead of rubbing it in'."
People who whine about gas prices are beginning to infuriate me because I know that gas will be $12/gallon before some of them give up their precious SUVs. I'm sick of polls asking people what gas price it will take before they change their driving habits, because I changed my driving habits when gas hit two dollars per gallon-- but it's not saving me much money, because I'm using half the gas at twice the price because peanut-dicks in H2s keep the demand high.
I used to drive like a lunatic. I knew exactly what manner of speed my car could reach on the low-traffic bit of highway between where I was and where I needed to be. Then gas started hitting 2 dollars, 2.20, 2.50. I told myself that fuel cost too much to drive inefficiently, and that I'd go back to driving like a bat out of hell when it fell back below two dollars.
Admittedly I still treat the speed limit as a suggestion, because going 55 on a flat road with no visibility issues and no other cars is fucking stupid, but I don't reach triple digits and coast the last few miles into town like I did then.
3 dollars per gallon? I don't visit my parents as much anymore, and I carpool when I do.
Almost 4 dollars? My car is staying where it is, I'm biking to my friends' houses and taking the bus to go grocery shopping. This weekend's drive could have been 4 cars with 2 people each, but we did it with one car and a van.
My mother has driven a little Geo Metro as long as I can remember. She buys extras, even busted ones from repo auctions, and she fixes them up to drive around. They get about 50 miles to the gallon. She's allowed to bitch about gas prices, because she's doing everything she can to conserve gas.
My father, on the other hand, drives a car that gets about half that. He insisted on visiting my brother recently, because my brother had left something at his house. Instead of mailing it for ~$20, my father drove here and back for about $40 in gas. My mother suggested taking a Metro; my father wanted to take a car with air conditioning.(My mother and I both roll our windows down.) He is not allowed to bitch.
If you drive a vehicle that gets less than 30mpg, without good reason*, you are not allowed to complain about fuel costs.
If you drive a Hummer or any sort of Hummer cross breed, an earnest discussion with your doctor will reveal amazing strides in penis enlargements, from pills to pumps to surgeries.
I'm angry that gas is a currency now-- When his car broke down, my father paid the guy who fixed it by filling up his truck. In high school, I paid for a friend's gas as part of flirting with him, like you might surprise someone with a CD you thought s/he'd like; now, a tank of gas costs more than a dozen roses.
Yes, gas companies raise prices because of looming hurricanes and whatnot, but they also raise them because they can. You'll note gas companies posting record profits this year-- I'm not talking about record gross income, mind you. Record profits.
Last time you drove by the gas station and said, damn, gas went up 10 cents this weekend, did you pick up an ad for a motor scooter?
Last time you filled up your car for the second time this week, did you map the distance from home to work to see whether it might be walkable?
Last time your debit card crossed your daily withdrawal limit because you got gas in the morning, did you swing by the bike shop?
Last time you debated not going on vacation because of gas costs, did you check your tire pressure, your oil, and your air filter?
I didn't think so. Suck it up, fuckwit, they've got no reason to lower gas prices when you keep buying it. Your whining is not part of the solution. You are not part of the solution. You're part of the problem. Shut the fuck up and do something about it, because I'm not going to pull over and help when I see you stranded on the side of one of those long gas station-less stretches of highway-- I will laugh my ass off instead.
*Good reason will be defined as "I live someplace where an SUV is actually a requirement to get out of my driveway" (this is true for one of my aunts), "I have more children than there are seatbelts in a normal car, including having someone sit in the middle of the back seat," (although I point out that this is your own fault), and "I only drive this vehicle when I have to, if I'm not hauling something then I drive an appropriate car."
29.8.08
Hi Pot, I'm Kettle.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/7588435.stm
Wait, so, you're going to attack Obama for being too young and inexperienced in foreign policy... And then choose a vice president who's not even finished serving one term as governor of Alaska (previously mayor of a town of 8,000*), and is in fact younger than Obama?
Your vice president, who becomes the President of the Senate and furthermore becomes president in the event that your 72-year-old self keels over, has two of the main qualities you've been attacking in your opponent, except she has them even more so?
My god, you're really riding this Clinton-Obama cattiness, aren't you?
*(spokesman in article quoted as saying 9000, a 2004 census pegs it at 7,738, claimed here .)
Wait, so, you're going to attack Obama for being too young and inexperienced in foreign policy... And then choose a vice president who's not even finished serving one term as governor of Alaska (previously mayor of a town of 8,000*), and is in fact younger than Obama?
Your vice president, who becomes the President of the Senate and furthermore becomes president in the event that your 72-year-old self keels over, has two of the main qualities you've been attacking in your opponent, except she has them even more so?
My god, you're really riding this Clinton-Obama cattiness, aren't you?
*(spokesman in article quoted as saying 9000, a 2004 census pegs it at 7,738, claimed here .)
13.8.08
Living and working in hellholes and paradise.
There's a saying about careers, "Do what you love and you'll never work a day in your life." I've got to add, "Work where you love, and every day is a vacation."
I've been on a camping trip the past week or so, followed by a few days of tooling around the city. And I loved them both.
Lucky lucky me, I work in a field where I can get a job nearly wherever the hell I want. I'm going to push to get my internship done out there, get my foot in the door for a long-term position.
I'm not one of those people who says that if you hate your job, you should just quit-- because I've had people say that to me (before my current job) and it's infuriating. While it's nice for a person to assume you have the requisite skills, it's not exactly sympathetic-- especially in the current economy and when one lacks things such as savings to fall back on.
But, I interviewed a career advisor the other day, and he told me what he says to get people to pay attention: If you work 40 years with two weeks vacation per year, that is 2,000 Mondays you will have to get up and go to work, whether you want to or not. His point is to be careful picking your major and make sure you go into something you actually like; my point is that it baffles me when someone comes home and bitches about work all day. Find something you enjoy about it, try to do something about it, pick up an other-field-you're-interested-in-for-dummies book-- don't resign yourself to another 1,950 Mondays of hating your life.
(The difference is that the unsympathetic fuckwads think you should turn in your two week's notice right now, damn the consequences, while I think you should start poking your other options.)
By the same tack, don't live somewhere you hate. Again, don't up and move with no savings or prospects, but don't resign yourself to waking up somewhere that's too hot, too cold, too liberal, too conservative, too quiet, too loud, too whatever. Right now? I like where I live, for the most part. It's reasonably liberal, has decent events, has a lot of hole-in-the-wall restaurants where you can get a pile of food for five bucks if you aren't afraid of trying something new. (How to tell your ethnic restaurant is serving authentic food: the kitchen staff the servers the owners the customers are the claimed ethnicity.) It does, however, spend six months of the year making me bitch about "What sort of crazy person lives here voluntarily?" as I languish in front of a fan or chip ice off my windshield. And I've found a place that has the attitude, events, food, and weather that I want. So I'm making my plans.
Upshot: If where you live or work makes you hate your life, then a change of venue is probably worth the effort, even if it's not advisable to move/quit right this second. Look around.
I've been on a camping trip the past week or so, followed by a few days of tooling around the city. And I loved them both.
Lucky lucky me, I work in a field where I can get a job nearly wherever the hell I want. I'm going to push to get my internship done out there, get my foot in the door for a long-term position.
I'm not one of those people who says that if you hate your job, you should just quit-- because I've had people say that to me (before my current job) and it's infuriating. While it's nice for a person to assume you have the requisite skills, it's not exactly sympathetic-- especially in the current economy and when one lacks things such as savings to fall back on.
But, I interviewed a career advisor the other day, and he told me what he says to get people to pay attention: If you work 40 years with two weeks vacation per year, that is 2,000 Mondays you will have to get up and go to work, whether you want to or not. His point is to be careful picking your major and make sure you go into something you actually like; my point is that it baffles me when someone comes home and bitches about work all day. Find something you enjoy about it, try to do something about it, pick up an other-field-you're-interested-in-for-dummies book-- don't resign yourself to another 1,950 Mondays of hating your life.
(The difference is that the unsympathetic fuckwads think you should turn in your two week's notice right now, damn the consequences, while I think you should start poking your other options.)
By the same tack, don't live somewhere you hate. Again, don't up and move with no savings or prospects, but don't resign yourself to waking up somewhere that's too hot, too cold, too liberal, too conservative, too quiet, too loud, too whatever. Right now? I like where I live, for the most part. It's reasonably liberal, has decent events, has a lot of hole-in-the-wall restaurants where you can get a pile of food for five bucks if you aren't afraid of trying something new. (How to tell your ethnic restaurant is serving authentic food:
Upshot: If where you live or work makes you hate your life, then a change of venue is probably worth the effort, even if it's not advisable to move/quit right this second. Look around.
5.8.08
Money and lingerie
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/7541675.stm
For male readers, the only difference between the bra pictured and one available at Walmart is that it says Polizei across the band. Admittedly there are no Walmarts in Germany, but the point is that there's nothing really special about this bra. If you read the article, it claims that they're like sports bras, butwith no underwires or clasps -- Two features not standard in sports bras in the first place.
One of my journalism professors, if we were stumped following a story, told us "Money, money, money. Follow the money until you find out where it's coming from."
3000 bras, plus the number of surplus or spares, + distribution, + R &D. I don't know where it's coming from, but I bet it costs more than distributing informational fliers suggesting female cops wear a sports bra under their bulletproof vest, perhaps one packaged with every uniform or vest.
This is just not an example of good journalism. The writer did not talk to people outside the PR department (Offhand, I don't know Der Polizei's policy on officers talking to press, but there are surely some lingerie store owners who might have something to say), which meant that no-one pointed out to her(?) that these are just normal bras, and didn't ask the #2 question on dealing with everything government/bureaucracy related: "Who is paying for this BS?"
(The number one question is always "Is it true?")
Seriously, who wants a bra with their work position printed on it, anyway?
For male readers, the only difference between the bra pictured and one available at Walmart is that it says Polizei across the band. Admittedly there are no Walmarts in Germany, but the point is that there's nothing really special about this bra. If you read the article, it claims that they're like sports bras, butwith no underwires or clasps -- Two features not standard in sports bras in the first place.
One of my journalism professors, if we were stumped following a story, told us "Money, money, money. Follow the money until you find out where it's coming from."
3000 bras, plus the number of surplus or spares, + distribution, + R &D. I don't know where it's coming from, but I bet it costs more than distributing informational fliers suggesting female cops wear a sports bra under their bulletproof vest, perhaps one packaged with every uniform or vest.
This is just not an example of good journalism. The writer did not talk to people outside the PR department (Offhand, I don't know Der Polizei's policy on officers talking to press, but there are surely some lingerie store owners who might have something to say), which meant that no-one pointed out to her(?) that these are just normal bras, and didn't ask the #2 question on dealing with everything government/bureaucracy related: "Who is paying for this BS?"
(The number one question is always "Is it true?")
Seriously, who wants a bra with their work position printed on it, anyway?
29.7.08
And one more thing
Figures I'd write that big long entry and then forget the important part.
The line that made me say, yeah, my brother would be a great pastor:
"You know, a lot of the trouble is that people feel that they have to be good, that if they don't toe the line exactly, then God will go, 'Oh, you said you were Christian but I know you aren't.' I don't think God is like that, I mean, He wouldn't have sent his Son if people could do that. And then people get into this whole thing of following the exact letter of the law, even when we don't know the details and context. If people wanted to be good, were kind and strove for goodness because it actually made them happy, it'd be easier. People would say 'You know, I don't think God will smite me for this, but it just doesn't feel right.' People would be... 'more better,' I guess, all around, but it would be better for their faith as well."
In unrelated news, I've found a dentist I don't mind going to, because he doesn't make me feel like an enormous personal failure for having cavities or for flinching when he pokes me with pointy implements. Unfortunately, I'll probably be moving within 6 months to a year.
The line that made me say, yeah, my brother would be a great pastor:
"You know, a lot of the trouble is that people feel that they have to be good, that if they don't toe the line exactly, then God will go, 'Oh, you said you were Christian but I know you aren't.' I don't think God is like that, I mean, He wouldn't have sent his Son if people could do that. And then people get into this whole thing of following the exact letter of the law, even when we don't know the details and context. If people wanted to be good, were kind and strove for goodness because it actually made them happy, it'd be easier. People would say 'You know, I don't think God will smite me for this, but it just doesn't feel right.' People would be... 'more better,' I guess, all around, but it would be better for their faith as well."
In unrelated news, I've found a dentist I don't mind going to, because he doesn't make me feel like an enormous personal failure for having cavities or for flinching when he pokes me with pointy implements. Unfortunately, I'll probably be moving within 6 months to a year.
28.7.08
God and Politics with my brother
I hung out with my brother this weekend, spending some 5 hours with him in my little car putting between where we live and work and where my parents live and work. We butt heads a lot -- mostly over my belief that he's a major closet case -- but at least I'm not beating the snot out of him anymore.
He spends his summers working at a Christian summer camp, which he really enjoys. I'm a little jealous, because in my mind it means he gets paid to go to camp each summer, and I *mostly* enjoyed summer camp the years I went. We talked about his campers, and the activities, and the difference between the summer camp I went to in Texas ("Yay, we're all at camp! ... and we're all Christian, neat!") and the camp I went to after our family moved ("Yay, we're all Christian.... and we're outdoors!"). The camp he's working at is toward the middle ground, probably enough to make me feel uncomfortable if I were attending, but not make me feel uncomfortable about the way they're teaching others.
It came around to the fact that his roommate where he's living next year is atheist (or he assumes so, all he knows is roommate does not plan to go to church), and, while he doesn't want to hide his faith, he doesn't want to drive his roommate away, either-- because he's actually done that before and he doesn't want to be "That Guy."
We talked a lot about faith-- because he's clearly fairly devout and I left the church at 14-- and I have to say that should he reconsider entering the seminary, I'd vouch for him (as much as a heathen's opinion would count). He's a shining example, so far, of a hymn I liked way back when, the chorus of which was "They will know we are Christians by our love, by our love."
We talked about a local street preacher, who rails against everyone and everything with such regularity that a friend made bingo cards to pass out and host a game with his sermon (Gays, faith, free square, marriage, prayer! BINGO!). Apparently, last time the preacher was out, Xavier sat out with a dry erase board to quickly scribble "Ask me about God," "Ask me about that submission thing" and so forth, because the street preacher's problem is "a lack of gentleness." He told me about how, the preacher will rail about women needing to submit to their husbands, and my brother will tell the people who ask that, in context, that Bible verse is followed with an exhortation that a man should be willing to do anything to protect and care for his wife, to love his wife as Christ loved the Church.
He said that when the preacher packed up for the day, some of the hecklers waved him over to ask him what he thought of the sermon. "Well, you know... I believe, we're all on the same team, but some people just kick the ball backwards sometimes."
We talked about politics-- actually, I said to him, "Xav, you're fairly intelligent," ("Thank you, C," he says) "but... not to say you're stupid, but you're part of a religion that tends to have unintelligent opinions on this. Abortion, gay marriage. Go."
He took gay marriage first, acknowledged that he did think of marriage as a religious thing and that, by religion, it's one man and one woman. We went back and forth a little, about a secular definition and a religious definition and whose business it is, and he says that the government should be allowed to grant "togetherness" to any two consenting adults who want to sign up (for semantic purposes, he was calling this a civil union, I was calling it a marriage). And, he continued, churches and synagogues and what have you can grant togetherness to any consenting adults they want (he says marriage, i say wedding-age). However, never the twain shall meet-- a religious ceremony should have no bearing on custody, taxes, insurance, etc. If you want to get the civil ceremony and nothing else, cool. If you want to get the civil ceremony and a religious one on top, well, hey, that's cool too. If you want to get the religious ceremony with no civil ceremony, that's your prerogative, but don't expect survivor's benefits from social security or to be acknowledged in any other official instance.
Ideally, I said, it would have been like this in the first place, and then you wouldn't have churches trying to claim that they're just trying to protect themselves from being sued when they won't let gay couples wed there. "Yep," he said, with a facial expression of "too bad someone fucked it up." (except that Xav doesn't swear.)
We moved on to abortion -- Xav being who he is and me having worked with pro-reproductive-rights special interest groups.
He's big on "adoption is an option too," but he realises that it's not *always* an option. Apparently the oral Torah included the specific instruction that, up to the point a baby was halfway out, its mother's life trumped it-- being a life in action rather than a potential life. So, if the medicine available at the time could save one or the other, mother won. So, abortion for health reasons, he says he has no reason to be against. I could maybe have gotten his more specific beliefs about when it is/isn't okay if i kept going, but we got sidetracked by birth control.
Birth control he's in support of. We talked about methods, about how they work, that Plan B will actually not stop a pregnancy if the zygote's implanted, which he was surprised (and happy) to learn-- he feels he can support it now. After that, we talked about when life begins -- because he doesn't really feel comfortable trying to figure that out with no medical education, and because I feel that it's stupid to declare it at conception when more than 2/3 of pregnancies miscarry before 6 weeks. I said "God doesn't seem to think life begins before then," he countered with a Bible verse stating that "I was sinful from when I was first conceived,"-- but he still doesn't see that as foolproof evidence of life-at-conception, because, while humanity makes you sinful, does sinfulness make you human?
We talked about abstinence-only sex education, about the statistic that teens wait on average 9 months longer than tradition sex-ed students-- but then they don't use protection, either because they were never told about it, or because they were told it was ineffective. (I didn't tell him about this comic ) He said the main problem is that home and school each rely on the other to fill in the blanks, and the blanks aren't getting filled.
Upshot of the car-ride home:
Abstinence is ideal, but talk with your kid about the what-ifs.
Birth control prevents abortions. You can't say every sperm or every egg is sacred when your body will waste them anyway.
A woman's life always trumps the life of an unborn child (in the medical sense, not in the "but i won't get to go partyyyyy" sense).
Religious weddings and government-recognised togetherness should not be the same thing.
Women, obey your husbands, but husbands, love your wives.
You can preach without being acerbic, and will in fact win more hearts with gentleness.
You can practise your faith without being overbearing, because scaring away a roommate is not good PR for your religion.
Can't guarantee I'd convert, but I'd go to a church my brother preached at.
--
Today's tidbit from work:
Coworker shows up late from her attempt to get court records. Apparently, "that twat at the courthouse" tells her that she needs case numbers. Coworker told her that she's always gotten them by name before, twat snottily responded "Well, we're about to close, and it'll take a long time to find them."
Coworker relating this: "I almost blew up on her, but then I thought, 'wait, no, Things Not to Do, blow up on someone in a courthouse.'"
He spends his summers working at a Christian summer camp, which he really enjoys. I'm a little jealous, because in my mind it means he gets paid to go to camp each summer, and I *mostly* enjoyed summer camp the years I went. We talked about his campers, and the activities, and the difference between the summer camp I went to in Texas ("Yay, we're all at camp! ... and we're all Christian, neat!") and the camp I went to after our family moved ("Yay, we're all Christian.... and we're outdoors!"). The camp he's working at is toward the middle ground, probably enough to make me feel uncomfortable if I were attending, but not make me feel uncomfortable about the way they're teaching others.
It came around to the fact that his roommate where he's living next year is atheist (or he assumes so, all he knows is roommate does not plan to go to church), and, while he doesn't want to hide his faith, he doesn't want to drive his roommate away, either-- because he's actually done that before and he doesn't want to be "That Guy."
We talked a lot about faith-- because he's clearly fairly devout and I left the church at 14-- and I have to say that should he reconsider entering the seminary, I'd vouch for him (as much as a heathen's opinion would count). He's a shining example, so far, of a hymn I liked way back when, the chorus of which was "They will know we are Christians by our love, by our love."
We talked about a local street preacher, who rails against everyone and everything with such regularity that a friend made bingo cards to pass out and host a game with his sermon (Gays, faith, free square, marriage, prayer! BINGO!). Apparently, last time the preacher was out, Xavier sat out with a dry erase board to quickly scribble "Ask me about God," "Ask me about that submission thing" and so forth, because the street preacher's problem is "a lack of gentleness." He told me about how, the preacher will rail about women needing to submit to their husbands, and my brother will tell the people who ask that, in context, that Bible verse is followed with an exhortation that a man should be willing to do anything to protect and care for his wife, to love his wife as Christ loved the Church.
He said that when the preacher packed up for the day, some of the hecklers waved him over to ask him what he thought of the sermon. "Well, you know... I believe, we're all on the same team, but some people just kick the ball backwards sometimes."
We talked about politics-- actually, I said to him, "Xav, you're fairly intelligent," ("Thank you, C," he says) "but... not to say you're stupid, but you're part of a religion that tends to have unintelligent opinions on this. Abortion, gay marriage. Go."
He took gay marriage first, acknowledged that he did think of marriage as a religious thing and that, by religion, it's one man and one woman. We went back and forth a little, about a secular definition and a religious definition and whose business it is, and he says that the government should be allowed to grant "togetherness" to any two consenting adults who want to sign up (for semantic purposes, he was calling this a civil union, I was calling it a marriage). And, he continued, churches and synagogues and what have you can grant togetherness to any consenting adults they want (he says marriage, i say wedding-age). However, never the twain shall meet-- a religious ceremony should have no bearing on custody, taxes, insurance, etc. If you want to get the civil ceremony and nothing else, cool. If you want to get the civil ceremony and a religious one on top, well, hey, that's cool too. If you want to get the religious ceremony with no civil ceremony, that's your prerogative, but don't expect survivor's benefits from social security or to be acknowledged in any other official instance.
Ideally, I said, it would have been like this in the first place, and then you wouldn't have churches trying to claim that they're just trying to protect themselves from being sued when they won't let gay couples wed there. "Yep," he said, with a facial expression of "too bad someone fucked it up." (except that Xav doesn't swear.)
We moved on to abortion -- Xav being who he is and me having worked with pro-reproductive-rights special interest groups.
He's big on "adoption is an option too," but he realises that it's not *always* an option. Apparently the oral Torah included the specific instruction that, up to the point a baby was halfway out, its mother's life trumped it-- being a life in action rather than a potential life. So, if the medicine available at the time could save one or the other, mother won. So, abortion for health reasons, he says he has no reason to be against. I could maybe have gotten his more specific beliefs about when it is/isn't okay if i kept going, but we got sidetracked by birth control.
Birth control he's in support of. We talked about methods, about how they work, that Plan B will actually not stop a pregnancy if the zygote's implanted, which he was surprised (and happy) to learn-- he feels he can support it now. After that, we talked about when life begins -- because he doesn't really feel comfortable trying to figure that out with no medical education, and because I feel that it's stupid to declare it at conception when more than 2/3 of pregnancies miscarry before 6 weeks. I said "God doesn't seem to think life begins before then," he countered with a Bible verse stating that "I was sinful from when I was first conceived,"-- but he still doesn't see that as foolproof evidence of life-at-conception, because, while humanity makes you sinful, does sinfulness make you human?
We talked about abstinence-only sex education, about the statistic that teens wait on average 9 months longer than tradition sex-ed students-- but then they don't use protection, either because they were never told about it, or because they were told it was ineffective. (I didn't tell him about this comic ) He said the main problem is that home and school each rely on the other to fill in the blanks, and the blanks aren't getting filled.
Upshot of the car-ride home:
Abstinence is ideal, but talk with your kid about the what-ifs.
Birth control prevents abortions. You can't say every sperm or every egg is sacred when your body will waste them anyway.
A woman's life always trumps the life of an unborn child (in the medical sense, not in the "but i won't get to go partyyyyy" sense).
Religious weddings and government-recognised togetherness should not be the same thing.
Women, obey your husbands, but husbands, love your wives.
You can preach without being acerbic, and will in fact win more hearts with gentleness.
You can practise your faith without being overbearing, because scaring away a roommate is not good PR for your religion.
Can't guarantee I'd convert, but I'd go to a church my brother preached at.
--
Today's tidbit from work:
Coworker shows up late from her attempt to get court records. Apparently, "that twat at the courthouse" tells her that she needs case numbers. Coworker told her that she's always gotten them by name before, twat snottily responded "Well, we're about to close, and it'll take a long time to find them."
Coworker relating this: "I almost blew up on her, but then I thought, 'wait, no, Things Not to Do, blow up on someone in a courthouse.'"
19.7.08
How not to ensure job security.
Case study:
There are two companies. Company A is smaller, pays a little less, but is willing to train if you're willing to learn. Company B is larger, pays more, but demands that you have experience up front. Company A is kindof family-like, there's a lot of company picnic type events, a lot of couples work there where one started and encouraged the other to apply. Company B, well, at least one person has gone from Company A to Company B and returned, saying they were "a bunch of cocks."
Recently, however, three employees have gone to Company B, looking for the higher pay and more experience company B offers. Company A wishes them well, but around the office it's kindof taken as fact that these people never planned to stay with A, just used A for the experience and ran, or value the pay over the friendship.
(Someone has also recently applied with company C, which has even higher pay, fewer cocks, requires even more experience, was turned down, but is now on "probation" within company A.)
You, an employee, are kindof intrigued by what Company B offers. You apply, and over the water cooler mention that, oh, B's person in your department likes your stuff, she gave a few suggestions.
"Uh," says another employee, "Why is B's person in your department looking at your stuff? Did you apply there?"
"Well, yeah," you say.
Obviously, this gets to your boss. You are not allowed to take shifts until your application there is denied, at which point you, also, are on "probation," meaning you get the assignments when no-one else in your department can come, because why should we give you the work/training when you've shown a desire to jump ship?
What a fucking dumbass.
There are two companies. Company A is smaller, pays a little less, but is willing to train if you're willing to learn. Company B is larger, pays more, but demands that you have experience up front. Company A is kindof family-like, there's a lot of company picnic type events, a lot of couples work there where one started and encouraged the other to apply. Company B, well, at least one person has gone from Company A to Company B and returned, saying they were "a bunch of cocks."
Recently, however, three employees have gone to Company B, looking for the higher pay and more experience company B offers. Company A wishes them well, but around the office it's kindof taken as fact that these people never planned to stay with A, just used A for the experience and ran, or value the pay over the friendship.
(Someone has also recently applied with company C, which has even higher pay, fewer cocks, requires even more experience, was turned down, but is now on "probation" within company A.)
You, an employee, are kindof intrigued by what Company B offers. You apply, and over the water cooler mention that, oh, B's person in your department likes your stuff, she gave a few suggestions.
"Uh," says another employee, "Why is B's person in your department looking at your stuff? Did you apply there?"
"Well, yeah," you say.
Obviously, this gets to your boss. You are not allowed to take shifts until your application there is denied, at which point you, also, are on "probation," meaning you get the assignments when no-one else in your department can come, because why should we give you the work/training when you've shown a desire to jump ship?
What a fucking dumbass.
13.7.08
On the other hand...
The flip side of getting good service is being a good customer. It baffles me how people expect that yelling and screaming and claiming "the customer is always right" will somehow net them better service.
You're paying someone to do something for you, that either you can't (neuter your dog, tile your floor, make really fantastic food) or you don't want to (clean your house, make mediocre food).
Why should they serve you if you're not worth the money?
One McDonalds I worked at twice banned customers from its store and many more times told the customers that, if they abused the employees, they were not welcome there. In turn, the employees were fairly chipper, because we knew we weren't going to lose our job when someone's fish sandwich meal came to 4.01 and she started screaming at us that she didn't need to pay a penny.
Because, you know what? Your 4.01 doesn't pay for an hour of work, so why should the management cater to *you,* instead of siding with the employees who keep the not-crazy, full-price-paying customers coming back?
I play World of Warcraft, I have characters that can craft things in demand by the general player base. I'll cut you a break if you're polite, such as offering to come to you or throw in some of the materials myself. If you're a thorn in my side, I reserve the right to charge a "crafting fee" when I otherwise don't.
In my real world jobs, if you're nice, I will work with you to get the results you want. If you're a dick to me or my staff, you're going to get a hack job. Hey, I offered to work with you, you're the one who declared that it was fine the way it was. It's not fine, and I have to make it meet my boss's specifications, not yours. Your specifications are last in the equation, especially when you're unwilling to tell me what they are.
And, wouldn't you know it, friends and family in the service industry say the same thing. Be nice, get your cable hookup fee waived. Be a dick, don't. Be nice, and a few magic button pushes get you the best cell phone plan that they don't advertise. Be a dick, and you can pay 25c per text message for the next two years.
I realise I'm beating a dead horse here, that this has been said all over the internet and this is just one more post in the tubes. But surely, these asshats who demand that I check a price for them when they're standing 20 feet away from where to check it (and I'm somewhere else entirely), or say that something is wrong but refuse to suggest why or how or even what they'd like it to be, or threaten to pee in the pool if the lifeguard takes her kids out for adult swim, surely some of them must have access to computers and the web.
I'm sure they do, because they somehow access websites where they complain about the "bad service" they get, that they bring in the dead hamster and the pet store won't replace it because they bought it two years ago even when she threatened to sue them because her little girl was traumatised.
I.. I can't even think of a proper way to end this. Teaspoon of honey, people.
*headdesk* *headdesk* *headdesk*
You're paying someone to do something for you, that either you can't (neuter your dog, tile your floor, make really fantastic food) or you don't want to (clean your house, make mediocre food).
Why should they serve you if you're not worth the money?
One McDonalds I worked at twice banned customers from its store and many more times told the customers that, if they abused the employees, they were not welcome there. In turn, the employees were fairly chipper, because we knew we weren't going to lose our job when someone's fish sandwich meal came to 4.01 and she started screaming at us that she didn't need to pay a penny.
Because, you know what? Your 4.01 doesn't pay for an hour of work, so why should the management cater to *you,* instead of siding with the employees who keep the not-crazy, full-price-paying customers coming back?
I play World of Warcraft, I have characters that can craft things in demand by the general player base. I'll cut you a break if you're polite, such as offering to come to you or throw in some of the materials myself. If you're a thorn in my side, I reserve the right to charge a "crafting fee" when I otherwise don't.
In my real world jobs, if you're nice, I will work with you to get the results you want. If you're a dick to me or my staff, you're going to get a hack job. Hey, I offered to work with you, you're the one who declared that it was fine the way it was. It's not fine, and I have to make it meet my boss's specifications, not yours. Your specifications are last in the equation, especially when you're unwilling to tell me what they are.
And, wouldn't you know it, friends and family in the service industry say the same thing. Be nice, get your cable hookup fee waived. Be a dick, don't. Be nice, and a few magic button pushes get you the best cell phone plan that they don't advertise. Be a dick, and you can pay 25c per text message for the next two years.
I realise I'm beating a dead horse here, that this has been said all over the internet and this is just one more post in the tubes. But surely, these asshats who demand that I check a price for them when they're standing 20 feet away from where to check it (and I'm somewhere else entirely), or say that something is wrong but refuse to suggest why or how or even what they'd like it to be, or threaten to pee in the pool if the lifeguard takes her kids out for adult swim, surely some of them must have access to computers and the web.
I'm sure they do, because they somehow access websites where they complain about the "bad service" they get, that they bring in the dead hamster and the pet store won't replace it because they bought it two years ago even when she threatened to sue them because her little girl was traumatised.
I.. I can't even think of a proper way to end this. Teaspoon of honey, people.
*headdesk* *headdesk* *headdesk*
7.7.08
Please call back during business hours...
I've been trying to call my dentist most of the morning. It has mostly been busy, although there have been a few times I've gotten through to the machine, which gives a recorded listing of the office's hours and suggests that I call back during regular business hours.
The hours they list in the message claim they're open while I'm calling.
Doc, I want to give you my business,(Actually, no, I don't, I'd rather that I don't have to see you at all, but since that's not an option and you're the only dentist in a 30 mile radius who takes my insurance...) but you're not making it easy on me.
You'd think they'd try to make the phone call the easiest part of paying someone to do horrible things to your mouth, but I guess not.
I'm sure this isn't deliberate on their part, but it's still less than stellar. I worked at McDonalds, bastion of ridicule as a job for lazy slackers who don't care about giving you service, and we still were required to answer the phone before the third ring.
---
Story of the day, from a coworker:
"Okay, I'm really scatterbrained today, and I'm going to preface that... preface this, with that fact. This morning, I lost my keys, and my shoes, and and the cheese I was making breakfast with. I got the cheese out, then I couldn't find it and I said, okay, I'll eat later. So I went to grab my shoes, and they weren't there, and then I look at my key rack, and no keys.
I'm sitting down, with some coffee and a cigarette, saying "Okay, this is fucking lame" when [Husband] comes up and asks me why there's cheese in the closet.
Keys in the butter dish, shoes in the freezer, cheese in the closet."
The hours they list in the message claim they're open while I'm calling.
Doc, I want to give you my business,(Actually, no, I don't, I'd rather that I don't have to see you at all, but since that's not an option and you're the only dentist in a 30 mile radius who takes my insurance...) but you're not making it easy on me.
You'd think they'd try to make the phone call the easiest part of paying someone to do horrible things to your mouth, but I guess not.
I'm sure this isn't deliberate on their part, but it's still less than stellar. I worked at McDonalds, bastion of ridicule as a job for lazy slackers who don't care about giving you service, and we still were required to answer the phone before the third ring.
---
Story of the day, from a coworker:
"Okay, I'm really scatterbrained today, and I'm going to preface that... preface this, with that fact. This morning, I lost my keys, and my shoes, and and the cheese I was making breakfast with. I got the cheese out, then I couldn't find it and I said, okay, I'll eat later. So I went to grab my shoes, and they weren't there, and then I look at my key rack, and no keys.
I'm sitting down, with some coffee and a cigarette, saying "Okay, this is fucking lame" when [Husband] comes up and asks me why there's cheese in the closet.
Keys in the butter dish, shoes in the freezer, cheese in the closet."
4.7.08
Fireworks.
Two summers ago, I worked for a special interest group and part of my job was to read several newspapers to see if there were any articles or letters to the editor relating to our issue. At one of the papers, someone had sent in a LTE asking whether the annual fireworks show could be moved, because it woke her baby and it probably scared children and dogs as well.
While there were a few reasonable responses like "Well, there are children and dogs wherever it would be moved to, too," and "Calm down, folks, she wanted it moved, not cancelled," most of the responses were in the vein of "Honour our troops, you hate America, terrorists have won."
Fourth of July that same summer, I was in my apartment playing World of Warcraft. Very few people were online in my guild, understandably, and people were trickling out to go watch fireworks. Eventually, it was only me and DJ. I made some offhand comment about the local fireworks, and he responded that he was not going to his own local show.
Because, he said, he'd only gotten back from Iraq about two months ago. They still sounded like bombs and mortars.
Let that sink in. A soldier wouldn't/couldn't go to the show that was ostensibly for him and his comrades and those before him, because it sounded too much like where he'd been.
Enjoy your fireworks. Maybe someday tradition will dictate donating several hundred dollars (the cost of my local fireworks show, your funding my vary) to veteran's charities for Independence Day.
As for DJ, he was re-deployed last spring. He hasn't logged in since. I can only hope that it's because he quit the game. It'd be happier than any other reason.
While there were a few reasonable responses like "Well, there are children and dogs wherever it would be moved to, too," and "Calm down, folks, she wanted it moved, not cancelled," most of the responses were in the vein of "Honour our troops, you hate America, terrorists have won."
Fourth of July that same summer, I was in my apartment playing World of Warcraft. Very few people were online in my guild, understandably, and people were trickling out to go watch fireworks. Eventually, it was only me and DJ. I made some offhand comment about the local fireworks, and he responded that he was not going to his own local show.
Because, he said, he'd only gotten back from Iraq about two months ago. They still sounded like bombs and mortars.
Let that sink in. A soldier wouldn't/couldn't go to the show that was ostensibly for him and his comrades and those before him, because it sounded too much like where he'd been.
Enjoy your fireworks. Maybe someday tradition will dictate donating several hundred dollars (the cost of my local fireworks show, your funding my vary) to veteran's charities for Independence Day.
As for DJ, he was re-deployed last spring. He hasn't logged in since. I can only hope that it's because he quit the game. It'd be happier than any other reason.
2.7.08
Being a mooch.
I wrote a check to my boyfriend last night. I've been living with him about a month now, between leases. He's never asked me for rent, utilities or grocery money, probably because he knows that my job pays peanuts and I have pretty much no savings. (And he makes considerably more than I do.)
When we started dating, I didn't even like him buying my movie tickets. I paid for dinner at least some of the time. I did a little modeling, I had the money. However, some months later, I had some new expenses and no modeling. I got a part-time job, but there was a point waiting for my first pay check when I totalled up what I had, and counted the days on the calendar, and if my milk didn't go bad and if I made two meals out of every package of instant noodles, I would still run out of food three days before my first pay check. He never said anything about it, but he took me out to dinner more often, made me dinner at his place and sent me home with the leftovers, and took me to eat with his parents -- extending my inadequate food supply until I got paid.
I was grateful, still am grateful, I just hate feeling like a goddamn mooch. A lot of my family are the types to never pay back money, and while I do believe if you lend someone $20 and never see him/her again, it's money well spent, it's shameful to be that person. I hate being that person.
I started a new job yesterday, one that pays in real money instead of "valuable experience." I'm hoping I'll be able to pad my savings, but I also hope to start paying a little rent — chipping in even though I can't pay a fair share.
Student loans, on the other hand, do require to be paid in full, and it's more stressful than shameful when you have difficulties with that.
When we started dating, I didn't even like him buying my movie tickets. I paid for dinner at least some of the time. I did a little modeling, I had the money. However, some months later, I had some new expenses and no modeling. I got a part-time job, but there was a point waiting for my first pay check when I totalled up what I had, and counted the days on the calendar, and if my milk didn't go bad and if I made two meals out of every package of instant noodles, I would still run out of food three days before my first pay check. He never said anything about it, but he took me out to dinner more often, made me dinner at his place and sent me home with the leftovers, and took me to eat with his parents -- extending my inadequate food supply until I got paid.
I was grateful, still am grateful, I just hate feeling like a goddamn mooch. A lot of my family are the types to never pay back money, and while I do believe if you lend someone $20 and never see him/her again, it's money well spent, it's shameful to be that person. I hate being that person.
I started a new job yesterday, one that pays in real money instead of "valuable experience." I'm hoping I'll be able to pad my savings, but I also hope to start paying a little rent — chipping in even though I can't pay a fair share.
Student loans, on the other hand, do require to be paid in full, and it's more stressful than shameful when you have difficulties with that.
30.6.08
Drunken office dumbasses.
I work in an office full of 20-somethings. One of them is turning 21 today, and she and another were joking about their plans to go out and get drunk tonight. Forget designated drivers, he said -- get a babysitter.
"I told (so-and-so) she was my babysitter," he said. Imagine this in your best "hur hur hur" voice, because he really does sound like that. "I said, 'You get to drive me around, and you get to make sure I don't get arrested.'" Hur hur hur.
She countered with how she plans to have her room set up with a clear path to the bathroom and a trash can by her bed in preparation for getting "totally wasted," and the conversation turned to which bars are lax on ID enforcement for the sake of her under-21 friends.
Now, I drank underage. My junior year of college, I had "drinking buddies." Everyone would chip in a few dollars or a bottle of whatever was on hand, and we'd sit, talk, flirt, and try to mix drinks with our limited supplies. Getting drunk was never the aim, and, big surprise, we never had any tragic accidents, vomit-soaked clothes or shameful morning afters. My "peak" was having to put one hand on the hallway wall for stability as I walked to the bathroom; others drank more but never to trouble. No-one ever got arrested or even drew the attention of the RAs.
I still drink now. There's a bar nearby that serves Long Islands in carafes. I bought ice cube trays because Baileys is that much better with ice. I still don't get drunk.
I said something in a high school class about trying a regional wine on a trip to Europe to see family, and all the little dumbshits who got suspended for keg parties started saying "OO-ooo-OOH, C got DRUNK." No, no I didn't. This is an American thing, drinking to get drunk (and thinking everyone else drinks this way), and I say this because in bars in Europe, it was the Americans wanting to buy me a drink and expressing shock that I might be waiting a bit after the last one. My sister, living there, agreed. It's always the American men who offer to buy you a drink and get indignant when you don't want alcohol right now, she said. The local guys are happy to buy you a water or some juice and chat you up.
Maybe because we spent time in Europe, maybe because my parents never hid the little alcohol they drank, drinking never seemed like some great taboo to me. Turning 21 and drinking yourself sick-- what are you, 7? Did Mommy say you couldn't have a whole cookie because you were little, and you had to eat the whole box to prove her wrong? Good job, dumbass, you deserve the way your head feels right now.
My second college roommate told me that her parents sat her down a few weeks before the headed to college, with the intent of having her get drunk(drunk as in "don't feel so good," not drunk as in "vomit on our couch") so that she would know exactly what her limit was and be able to stop before then. Good idea, if your kid will take the information and use it for good, not evil.
Some states are looking at lowering the drinking age, usually for those in the military. If I recall correctly, they might have to take a class, too. I'm hoping this will lead to a gradual attitude shift to "Oh, there's beer? Um, not right now, thanks," instead of it leading to younger people drinking themselves into a stupor or god forbid it being used as a military recruiting tool (Join us, get smashed!).
---
Grammar of the day: Parallel structure
I saw a flyer about a horse for sale; the owner didn't have enough time to take her energetic horse out for frequent rides. The end of the flyer talked about cost and mentioned "would be willing to trade for laid-back horse willing to graze in pasture but be taken out by children or non-horsey husband to be ridden occasionally."
My first read of this: Who trades a horse for a husband, and what was her last husband, that it's necessary she specify that she wants a non-horsey one?
"non-horsey husband" should probably be parallel with "children," as in "by children or by non-horsey husband."
Or, it could read "for a laid-back horse," leaving the husband still not parallel with the children but at least not parallel to the horse.
I could be wrong. Maybe she's begging for someone to give her a more normal home life with no horses in the bedroom.
I'm out.
-C
"I told (so-and-so) she was my babysitter," he said. Imagine this in your best "hur hur hur" voice, because he really does sound like that. "I said, 'You get to drive me around, and you get to make sure I don't get arrested.'" Hur hur hur.
She countered with how she plans to have her room set up with a clear path to the bathroom and a trash can by her bed in preparation for getting "totally wasted," and the conversation turned to which bars are lax on ID enforcement for the sake of her under-21 friends.
Now, I drank underage. My junior year of college, I had "drinking buddies." Everyone would chip in a few dollars or a bottle of whatever was on hand, and we'd sit, talk, flirt, and try to mix drinks with our limited supplies. Getting drunk was never the aim, and, big surprise, we never had any tragic accidents, vomit-soaked clothes or shameful morning afters. My "peak" was having to put one hand on the hallway wall for stability as I walked to the bathroom; others drank more but never to trouble. No-one ever got arrested or even drew the attention of the RAs.
I still drink now. There's a bar nearby that serves Long Islands in carafes. I bought ice cube trays because Baileys is that much better with ice. I still don't get drunk.
I said something in a high school class about trying a regional wine on a trip to Europe to see family, and all the little dumbshits who got suspended for keg parties started saying "OO-ooo-OOH, C got DRUNK." No, no I didn't. This is an American thing, drinking to get drunk (and thinking everyone else drinks this way), and I say this because in bars in Europe, it was the Americans wanting to buy me a drink and expressing shock that I might be waiting a bit after the last one. My sister, living there, agreed. It's always the American men who offer to buy you a drink and get indignant when you don't want alcohol right now, she said. The local guys are happy to buy you a water or some juice and chat you up.
Maybe because we spent time in Europe, maybe because my parents never hid the little alcohol they drank, drinking never seemed like some great taboo to me. Turning 21 and drinking yourself sick-- what are you, 7? Did Mommy say you couldn't have a whole cookie because you were little, and you had to eat the whole box to prove her wrong? Good job, dumbass, you deserve the way your head feels right now.
My second college roommate told me that her parents sat her down a few weeks before the headed to college, with the intent of having her get drunk(drunk as in "don't feel so good," not drunk as in "vomit on our couch") so that she would know exactly what her limit was and be able to stop before then. Good idea, if your kid will take the information and use it for good, not evil.
Some states are looking at lowering the drinking age, usually for those in the military. If I recall correctly, they might have to take a class, too. I'm hoping this will lead to a gradual attitude shift to "Oh, there's beer? Um, not right now, thanks," instead of it leading to younger people drinking themselves into a stupor or god forbid it being used as a military recruiting tool (Join us, get smashed!).
---
Grammar of the day: Parallel structure
I saw a flyer about a horse for sale; the owner didn't have enough time to take her energetic horse out for frequent rides. The end of the flyer talked about cost and mentioned "would be willing to trade for laid-back horse willing to graze in pasture but be taken out by children or non-horsey husband to be ridden occasionally."
My first read of this: Who trades a horse for a husband, and what was her last husband, that it's necessary she specify that she wants a non-horsey one?
"non-horsey husband" should probably be parallel with "children," as in "by children or by non-horsey husband."
Or, it could read "for a laid-back horse," leaving the husband still not parallel with the children but at least not parallel to the horse.
I could be wrong. Maybe she's begging for someone to give her a more normal home life with no horses in the bedroom.
I'm out.
-C
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