Pee towel

Hopefully this will be the last horrid in law story, unless I find something else that has been done and hidden away.

I guess their dogs peed in my garage. Or they peed somewhere. I am not for sure. But apparently, the crazy people, they thought it would be a good idea to get my brand new white towels that I got for my wedding registry and use those to wipe up the pee. Now, that in itself is ugly. We have loads of ratty dark colored towels in my towel closet, so why they would pick the white ones to wipe up dog urine is beyond me.

BUT on top of that, after they wiped up the pee in the garage, they then threw the towels on the ground and left them. Mind you, my washing machine is actually in the garage, so all they would have had to do is walk two steps, spray on some "Spray and Wash" and toss them in. They're either retarded, lazy, or were born in a barn. Or maybe it's a combination of all three. I am not for sure.

Grrrr...

Fekkai

Back in the old days, when I used to get a discount on expensive hair products, I fell in love with Frederic Fekkai. They used to be carried only in high end stores, but now the products are available at Target and Bath and Body Works. Regardless, they are still 'spensive, and a bottle of shampoo can cost around 30 bucks. Now, I'm not retarded. I know $30 is a ridiculous amount of money for shampoo, and since I no longer am employed at a retailer where I can get these hair care goods at half price, I use them sparingly. I have clung to the last bottle of shampoo I purchased a year ago by using it only once or twice a month.

Which brings me to this past weekend, where my in laws inhabited my humble abode on short notice. See, the short notice part is important, because normally, I would hide all of my expensive hair products, as I realize they probably don't know how expensive the shampoo is, and I therefore cannot hold them accountable if the use it. But here's the thing--I forgot to hide, and they used. Only, they didn't just use the amount you would think that someone might use over a 3 day period. They used half of the fucking bottle. What were they doing? Rubbing ALL of their hair with it? So, now I have about two hair washes left of my lovely shampoo. It makes me mad every time I look at the bottle in the shower. It's like it's taunting me. And who travels to someone else's house and uses up all of their hosts stuff anyway? I always bring my own toiletries. Were these people raised in a barn?

Nevermind that they drank all of the milk the day before I needed it to cook Christmas dinner. And then said, "I hope you didn't need that milk to cook." Hello, you think if you'd thought that, you might have gone ahead and replaced the milk.

Damned in laws.

Denim

First, I apologize for my lack of blogging. With holidays and finals and family I have just not had time.

Second, I have decided I might need to change the name of my blog to fashion police, as it seems that a large portion of what I write about has to do with fashion mishaps.

Which brings me to...my step mother's Christmas gift yesterday. My Dad got her an entire denim outfit--matching pants and shirts. Same color denim, same embroidered pattern on both articles of clothing. She asked what I thought. I tried to smile and lie, but it just would not work. I told her she should not wear both the top and bottom together, because that is entirely too much denim. And she says, "well, what should I wear it with then? You always wear denim with denim!" Who told her this bunch of crap? Whatever sales person gave that information should be banned from the retail clothing industry. Allowing someone to walk around looking a fool is not okay. It makes me mad that my step-mom has fallen prey to such a myth!

AND THEN, my sister is talking about going shopping at Christopher and Banks. I am sorry, but no person under the age of 40 should shop in that shit hole. It's like Wal-Mart quality with a higher price. Ick. Just putting the clothes on ages you ten years.

Forwards

Do people really think that shit is funny? I'm not saying every single forward is a waste, but I would say a good 95% of the crap people send me is just a way to cram my inbox full of a bunch of worthless drivel. I don't need chain letters. I'm not going to do them, even if they will save me from going to hell or getting fat. I don't want to look at fifty cartoons about women and men and their differences or what happens to your body when you get old. I don't want you pushing your political views off on me about not buying Muslim stamps or coins because they have removed "in God we trust" from their face. I've seen most of them before. Really, all you annoying people are doing is wasting my time. I have about ten thousand things I have to do in the morning, and those stupid forwards are sucking up valuable seconds as I have to delete them every day.

Please, for the love of Jesus...stop sending them.

receptionist

Why is that doctor's office receptionist such a bitch? The woman never smiles. She's never helpful. She talks to me like I'm a total idiot any time I ask her a question. And if she's not doing that, then she's talking to me like I'm interrupting her very important job with my phone call and questions. Isn't she technically working for me? I mean, if I didn't come and see the doctor, she wouldn't even have a job, right? I always want to complain to the doctor, but once I get in his office, I forget she was such a bitch--that is until I'm exiting, and she acts annoyed to have to do so much as swipe my credit card for my co-pay. Sometimes, she makes me so mad, I want to spit in her face.

donut man

Great. As if it weren't enough that the Daylight Donut lady frequently shows up with a box of glazed, we now have someone bringing blueberry cake and sprinkles. Are these people out to sabotage me?

Parking lots

Why is it that people walk down the middle of the aisles in parking lots? This is especially annoying as you are out for Christmas. The place is already packed, and as you are either frantically trying to find a place or frantically trying to exit the damned mall, some asshole is walking right down the middle like they own the place and at a very meandering pace. This act of total self absorption forces the driver to go less than one mile per hour and blocks up the whole freaking lot.

I hate those people. They piss me off.

F You

Just in case you have never worked in customer service...

Here's a tip. Regardless of how angry you are about a situation, don't take it out on the person who's trying to help you. Because if you tell them to fuck off even one time, I know, it's surprising, they are probably not going to do whatever it is you are wanting them to do. It's much easier if you ask really nice and with a smile.

I don't know about everyone else, but I know when I get phone calls like I did today, where someone tells me to fuck off and have a nice fucking day and then asks me to do something for them, I'm going to be mad. And since I can't say fuck off back, all I can do is refuse to do whatever that person is asking. It's my own special way of saying fuck you. Brings me a sick sense of pleasure.

Rain Boots

I love rain boots. They protect my pants and fancy shoes and keep them from getting wet and mildewy. But really, when it's not raining, and there is no forecast for rain, I do not wear them. And nobody else should either. They are not a fashion accessory. It is true, they are cute and in funky patterns. BUT that does not mean they should be worn as a regular boot.

They are for rainy days people! COME ON!

death

Do you ver wake up in the morning and think, "if I had died during the night, at the very least, I wouldn't have to go to work today." ??? I do. I hate those fucking mornings. They suck.

Silver Dollar City

Have you ever been to Silver Dollar City? Well, I have, but it hasn't been since I was 8. I remember it being fun, but not the very best time I had ever had. For those who don't know, it is a country themed amusement park with rides and shops. They have a Christmas celebration, which I was really looking forward to attending this year. My husband and I were going to drive up to Branson, MO and go to kick off our holiday season.

Only, believe it or not, Richard started looking at tickets, and they're $50! Who do they think they are, Disney World? I mean, come on! I don't pay $50 to get into Six Flags, and I guarantee you the rides there are better than those at Silver Dollar City. In fact, I think Silver Dollar City only showed like ten rides, half of which are for kids (which I don't have). Hopefully the country ambiance is worth it, but I'll never know, because I'm not paying $50 to find out.

Ruined my whole holiday kick off plans! Makes me mad.

Facial Scrub

I use St. Ives Apricot Facial Scrub. I love it. I wash my face with it every night, even though it says you are only supposed to use it sporadically. I have one in the shower and one by my sink. Long story short, I've been wondering where the one in the shower has been disappearing to. It ran out twice as fast as it usually does, and I was perplexed. Have I been using more than I had in the past?

So, two nights ago, my husband says, "we're almost out of facial scrub." And I say, "WE? That's my facial scrub. Why are you using my facial scrub?" Alas, the mystery has been solved. Hazards of being married, I guess. Your husband thinks what's yours is his.

Dillhole had to go and buy US more facial scrub.

People with kids

Now, if you're a "people with kids," I apologize if I offend you. BUT this really pissed me off.
I had one of my staff call in last night, and so I had to stay to run the show, and I thought I wasn't going to be able to make it to my class. Now, if you follow my blog, you know that my class has an attendance policy. AND I've already missed my 3 classes, so this one would be my 4th.

I know that there is a girl in my class who has missed more than 3 classes, and I overheard her saying last week that she thought he was really cool, because he told her that he understood her having to do stuff with her kids, because he has kids himself. So, I'm calling, thinking, no big deal--he'll let me skip. I even offer to write an extra little paper or do a little project additional. But instead, this is what he says...

NO. The man says NO. He said he understood and appreciated my situation, but he could not make exceptions on his policy for anyone, or it just caused issues. I didn't want to say I suspected he had already made exceptions for someone in the class, because I had overheard and may have gotten the conversation wrong. So, last night when I went to class, I asked her if it was in fact true. And she confirmed that he was very easy going and told her that it was no problem if she needed to miss class due to her kids' activities.

WTF? Why should I be penalized because I don't have kids. This has always annoyed the fuck out of me. People have to stay home and watch Oprah with their sick kids while I cover their shifts. People have to leave work early to pick up their kids or go to their kids' Christmas plays or take their kids' on field trips. And then if I have to take my dog to the vet during work hours, people look at me like I've grown two heads. Well, excuse the hell out of me that you've been gone 17 times this year to kid functions, and I need to take an afternoon to make sure my dog has his shots.

I'm not pissed at the people who have kids, but I am pissed at the people who make exceptions for people who have kids, and the people who do not. Like Dr. Springer. He's an a-hole.

Voting

Here is what I cannot figure out. What in the hell are people doing in those little boxes? Do you get in there and think, "gee, who am I going to vote for?" Do you not know that before you go to vote, because that's just a scary thought. Now, I understand you may have to read some of the state votes on the other sheet, but again, if you are going to vote, and vote sensibly, you may have wanted to study up on the pros and cons of that BEFORE you get into the booth.

This would make the whole voting process go lots faster, and it wouldn't piss me off so bad when I'm standing in line for an effing hour trying to wait my turn to go and getting ants in my pants because I have to be at work at 8 and it's 7:30.

Voting retards.

daylight savings time

I tend to wake up when the sun comes up. It peeps in through my blinds and through my thin eyelids, and really annoys me. Which means, usually I am up around 7 AM, with no alarm clock. But when we fall back an hour, I am up around 6 AM with no alarm clock. This gives me a whole extra hour when I do nothing but lay in bed and try to fall back asleep until 7, when I actually have to get up for work. You would think I might use my extra hour to get up off my fat lazy ass and work out, but I hate working out in the morning, so instead I just count backward from 100 hoping I doze back off. Which just pisses me off, because it's wasted sleep time.

And it especially pissed me off this morning, seeing as it was a Sunday and all, and I could have slept until noon. Damned sun.

On the phone

You know what my new pet peeve is? Customers who can clearly see I'm on the phone in my office and just bust on in anyway. Sometimes, I even have my door shut while I'm discussing someone's personal business in depth. It doesn't stop anyone. That closed door is apparently not a clue for the dim witted.

Do you think the customer I'm on the phone with wants me to discuss their personal business in front of some random person they don't know? Would you like if I did that to you? Do you think you might be one of the most stupid people to walk the earth or is it just that no one ever taught you any manners? All important questions that alas, I cannot ask. I am forced to politely ask said idiot if they can sit outside for a moment while I finish up the conversation I am having.

Drives me nuts.

The Hills (again)

I had to turn the TV off in disgust last night. I do not know if I can continue to watch The Hills. The girls on there must be the most idiotic group of girls in the whole world. I am worn out watching them get treated like crap and sticking around with their boyfriends to continue to get treated like more crap. You think they're going to grow some balls, as they leave for a bit, but they always come back sans balls. And they could probably have any guy in the world. Why in the hell do they want to stick with these assholes?

It makes me mad that they are teaching young women that it's okay to get treated like crap.

The Fringe

It is no X Files. People are saying it is, but they must be desperate. I miss the X Files as much as any sci fi nerd. And The Fringe, don't get me wrong, it's good. But the story lines aren't even as close to as interesting as they were in the X Files. Now Joshua Jackson, he's a plus, but not enough for the show to be as good as X.

Those TV review critics who got me all excited about a new X Files show...they've made me mad. And disappointed.

Interview

I had an interview yesterday morning at 11 AM. Not one for me--I was interviewing a candidate for a position I have available. She didn't show up. No call, nothing. And then I had another one scheduled for noon. She called to say that time wouldn't work for her, and so we moved it to four, which then also didn't work for her, so we moved it to 8 AM this morning. Guess what? She didn't show up.

Who in the fuck doesn't show up for an interview? I mean if you took the time to apply, made it through the HR people, and got an okay on the background checks, why would you just not show up? I cannot figure this out.

It pisses me off. It's a waste of my time and it's disrespectful and it's inconsiderate. I wish I knew what these people looked like or where they lived. I might have to go and slap them.

politefully

One of the big big bosses used this word yesterday in a region wide meeting. Seriously...in order to have the word manager in your title, unless it's at Wal-Mart, you should at the very least know basic english. Where in the hell do people come up with these fake words?

Running

My husband is a fat, lazy slob. Okay, so not so much fat or a slob, but he is definitely lazy. I bust it out on the elliptical 30 minutes and he sits on his computer and looks at the internet or plays me songs. It makes me mad.

But we've decided to try to be runners. So, we've looked up a schedule on how to be able to run two miles in 8 weeks. I'm out there the first day, ready to go, thinking I'm going to whip his ass at this running thing because I exercise ten times more than he does. But alas, it is not so. His lazy ass runs faster, longer, and with greater ease than I do. He's done with his few minutes of running before I'm even half way round the block. I do not understand. And that makes me even more mad than his lazy ass sitting on the computer while I'm sweating it up on the elliptical.

Big Dogs

Have I done this one already? I can't remember. But especially during Halloween, it makes me mad. So, there you go.

Why, I ask you...WHY is it that there are loads of clothes for little dogs--little yellow rain slickers and tartan plaid hats and sweatshirts with clever sayings on them, but nothing for the (wanting to be) fashionably dressed 75 pound mutt?

I want to get my dog a Halloween costume. Nothing fancy. Nothing expensive. So, I head to Pet Smart. Nothing there for a dog over 35 pounds. And Target? Same thing, and they call their 35 pound dog outfits size large. I wonder what my dog's size would be--super duper large? Not very sensitive on Target's part.

I know he's hurt. I know on Halloween, he'll be devastated when he sees the other dogs roaming the neighborhood in their fancy schmancy costumes with their noses turned up. I know when I had to tell him, "they don't make any costumes in your size," it broke his little heart. I could see it all over his face.

But there's no sense in getting his hopes up for that Batman costume when I'm not going to be able to produce it.

That sad look in his eyes makes me mad at the doggie clothing producers of the world. For the love of God people, where are the big dog outfits? Aren't big dogs people, too?

bounce back

At one time, when I was in my younger years, I could go to work for an eight hour day on four hours of sleep. I would have to work a teller window at 6:45 AM, and I would stay out playing pool until 10:00. Little did I know it would not always be that way.

Now, if I stay out past 12:30, and the time includes 2+ drinks, I can count myself out for the whole next day. I won't wake up early, and when I do wake up, I still do not feel alert and myself.

The bounce back rate from a night on the town for a thirty year old sure does make me mad.

Mr. Samuel the baby man

Mr. Samuel comes into my office. He wants to talk about babies (no, I do not have a career that would normally involve talk about babies). He wants to know how many I have. I tell him I have none. He INSISTS that I give him and my husband's name so he and his church group can pray for us at their Monday service. He then proceeds to tell me that his eye doctor and his wife have been barren for seven years, and once they provided their name to the prayer group, she got pregnant within a month. I try to explain to Mr. Samuel that I do not want to have any babies. He does not understand. He tells me the Lord has spoken to him that he should tell me about having babies, because babies are the Lord's plan for everyone. I think this is funny. But the man will not take no for an answer. He takes my card and makes me write down my husband's name.

If I wind up pregnant, I am going to be really mad at Mr. Samuel.

Unfair madness

My husband was sea sick on our cruise. About the only thing he could actually do without looking pukey was lay down in the room in the bed. And that was about the only thing I couldn't do, or I would get pukey. So, the first three days at sea, it was like being on vacation by myself. No one to talk to. No one to drink fruity liquor drinks with. No one to dance with.

But here's the thing...I was mad. Not kind of mad, but really mad at him. I know it wasn't his fault, but that didn't seem to help me contain my anger. Every time I had to do something alone and then come back to find him in a coma due to motion sickness medicine, I wanted to punch him in the face and call him mean names. I did not actually punch him in the face, but I did call him a few mean names.

Sometimes, these kinds of things happen--where I'm mad at someone over something that is really not their fault. I can't seem to control it. And then I get mad at myself.

The best thing is that my husband just looks at me like I'm bitchy and insane. It's a good way to make me feel guilty, but still mad.

elevators

My apologies for the lack of posting. I was on a cruise, and believe me, there were plenty of things that made me mad. But here is probably the most annoying thing.

There were 14 floors on my cruise ship. We were on the 3rd floor. When we needed to go to the 4th, 5th, even 6th floor, we would walk up the stairs. It was probably about 20 stairs total between each floor, and the stairs were right next to the elevator, so it's not like If we had to go up to the pools, which were on 11, we would take the elevator. Only we seemed to get on the elevator with people who were only going up two floors, so the stupid thing was stopping on every single floor.

Now, if you are handicapped or overweight or have back or knee problems, I get why you might take an elevator up one floor. But otherwise, why, why, WHY would you inconvenience a bunch of other people, much less waste the time it takes to wait on the elevator to go up one floor? I wish I would have asked someone, much to the embarrassment of my husband, because I just don't get it.

Stupid cruise people made me mad.

Grey's Anatomy

I am sick of Meredith. I am sick of her whining. What is her freaking problem? I feel like I'm watching the same damned episode over and over and over. Don't get me wrong. There are some high points. There are some occasional surprises. Every once in awhile it's a story line focused around someone else. But for the most part it's the same damned shit with Meredith complaining about her commitment issues with Derek.

Can't the writers come up with something else? It makes me mad.

Daylight Donuts

I don't know if they have a Daylight Donuts where you live. But they do here in good old Oklahoma, and I will tell you, they have the best donuts ever. So, it's most unfortunate that there is one right by work, and the donut lady comes at 12 every day and brings a box of "not sold" donuts. I have apparently graduated to the donut a day diet plan. Damned lady and her damned box of donuts.

I'm the boss

My staff ratted out the new girl. Apparently, someone I recently hired decided she wanted to share with everyone that I was selfish. When asked why she thought this, she told the other girls that I like to do things my way. Well, hello, dumbass. Isn't that what being a manager is? Doesn't that mean everyone has to do everything your way? Because, you know what? When something goes wrong, guess who gets blamed, regardless of who actually made the error? Yep, it's the manager. Everything hangs over my head. So you better well fucking believe if I'm going to get blamed for it, we're going to do it my way.

Stupid nineteen year old.

Vacation

The week before vacation always makes me mad. Every single day goes by so freaking slowly. And then, all you sit at your desk and do is think of all of the things you need to do before you leave. It sucks.

sarah palin

I do not look like her. So, please, stop telling me I do. I do not think she is attractive, so I am not sure whether I find this to be offensive or not. The jury is still out. At the very least it makes me feel annoyed. And no, it is no comfort that some people say she is a MILF.

discussion

Dear Mr. Professor Man,
This class is a lecture. You stand at your fucking podium for 1 solid hour and then fifteen more minutes and you tell me all about a bunch of shit I do not find fascinating. As if that were not enough, you use big words, which I feel you do purposely just to make sure only half of the class understands what is going on. You have even admitted that several students in your year end reviews have commented that your language is too elevated for the average person, but you just keep on doing it. Nevermind that I haven't been in school in over a decade, and my grasp of literary terms at this point is slim to nil. And then, to top it all off, you stutter, and speak so quickly it is next to impossible to take notes on what you are saying.

But I digress. The main point here is that you talk from 5:45-7:00 PM. You never come late, and you always quit at 7, and I appreciate that. But at the end of every class, you say, "next week, we'll finish this discussion." And it's that phrase that makes me want to "junk punch you in the man business," because wake up asshole, there is no discussion! Nobody speaks during the whole hour and fifteen minutes as you suck the life out of the air with your babbling. It takes two people to have a "discussion." Someone coughing out loud does not constitute a discussion. Maybe with your big vocabulary, you'll take some time to look up what that word actually means in Webster's Dictionary.

Until then...
the girl who is sick of your damned class and still has three months to go! (I do not know how I am going to make it...)

Handicapped Parking

My mother has a parking sticker to park in the handicapped spaces. I could care less if I walk from the North 40, but when I'm with my Mom, I want us to get to park close so she doesn't have to walk. So, it really makes me mad when I go somewhere, like this weekend, that has, say 500 parking spots and six of them are flagged as handicapped spaces. Of course, you can imagine that anywhere that feels it is necessary to create a parking lot that houses 500 parking spaces is anticipating quite a crowd. So, wouldn't you think these people--the ones building the parking lot--would guess that there might be more than oh, six people who may need to park in a handicapped space? I would. But then again, when compared to some of the ass wipes who live on the planet, I look like the most intelligent person on Earth.

Crocs

I may have written about this one before, because it really tugs at the heart strings. Crocs are the ugliest shoes in the world. The only thing worse than Crocs are knock off Crocs. The only thing worse than knock off Crocs is when someone wears the knock off Crocs to a funeral.

annoying

This doesn't make me mad so much as it makes me think...

Sometimes, I meet people who are really fucking annoying. They say stupid shit or they tell stupid jokes or they think they're smarter than you are and want to throw it in your face or maybe they just talk a lot about a bunch of shit nobody cares about. In any case, you just want to tell them to shut the hell up, because nobody wants to listen them, much less be friends with them. And then, I'll notice they have a band on their ring finger, and I think some extremely unlucky asshole has to put up with this person every single day. They wake up next to them and listen to their annoying bullshit and if they honor their marriage vows will do so until the end of all time (or at least their time). Someone found this same person who I want to punch in the face both charismatic and charming. Someone thought those same jokes that make me have to fight the urge to scream, "SHUUUTTT UUUPPP!" funny. Someone has sex with this person. Give that person a Klondike bar.

And then, right when I'm getting all riled up thinking about how annoying this person is, I start to wonder if there are people out in the world who think this same thing about me.

90210

I was awaiting the new 90210 with a great feeling of anticipation. Unfortunately, it was not all I dreamed it would be. I wasted away many an hour watching this show in my youth--loving Brenda and hating Kelly and then later loving Kelly and hating Brenda. Alas, the new show is not so interesting. Maybe it's because I'm older, or maybe it just isn't that good. Either way, I made it through about 45 minutes of the first episode and had to turn it off.

I will put all of my hopes now on Big Love's and Pushing Daisies' return for the next season. Hopefully, they do not disappoint.

Sarah Palin

Who cares that her daughter is pregnant? What does this have to do with the woman and her capabilities to be vice president? I do not understand. Now, if she were running on a pro life ticket and her daughter came forward and said she was pregnant and her Mom had forced an abortion on her, that I could see. But has it really been so long since people have been teenagers that they don't remember what it was like? No matter what your parents taught you, nor how you were raised, you went and did whatever the hell you wanted to do anyway.

So, why her daughter's pregnancy should have anything to do with her as a running mate for good old John is beyond me. People piss me off.

Air Conditioner

My work has no air conditioner. It has not had air conditioner since Tuesday morning. Now, here's the thing...the air conditioner didn't break. Nope. It hadn't been cooling as much as it should, so our building manager decided August would be the time to schedule a maintenance. Well, it turns out, the damage is more extensive than originally thought. So, rather than go ahead and turn the air conditioner back on and have us work in 78 degree weather, warm, but livable, some fucktard decided to go ahead with the project and shut down our air conditioning for at least a week.

You know why? It's because that fucktard doesn't have to come in and work in my building when it is a whopping 95 degrees. They don't have to dress in a suit and smile at customers and seem like they really care about how so and so's account is overdrawn $500 when all they can really think about is how their skin is melting off their body. They don't have to guzzle down 27 bottles of water and gatorade all day just to stay hydrated so they don't pass out. No, that person is sitting in their air conditioned office thinking all of us who are complaining are just being babies and that we should man up. They haven't said that, but I know that's what FT is thinking.

And that...that makes me mad. Almost as mad as the thought of having to go into the fifth level of hell on Tuesday after the place has been shut up for three days in the heat due to the Labor Day holiday. Almost that mad, but not quite. Fucktard.

Birkenstocks

In the same vein of the last post, let's talk Birkenstocks. Because my teacher had them on tonight. With socks.

Now, unless you're in Colorado, or just a complete hippie tree hugger, these shoes are not appropriate. And even then, they are not fashionable. But with socks? Come on...what were you thinking? Isn't the point of wearing Birkenstocks that they are sandals, and are therefore cool in temperature on your feet? Then why in the hell would you put them on with socks? Forget ugly, where's the practicality in that? And you're a doctor for Christ's sake!

I always hated those shoes. I was terribly unprepared to see they had made a comeback. Very upsetting all around.

Hose

Any time I see a person with open toed shoes on and panty hose, I want to slap them. If they're younger than 60, I want to slap them twice, because they should definitely know better. Especially when the hose have the reinforced toe. There is just no excuse. What is the point in wearing open toed shoes anyway if you put crusty old panty hose on with them?

Attendance requirement

I started my new class this past Tuesday, and guess what? There's an attendance requirement! No more than three absences in a semester, or your grade drops to a B, and then one letter grade per absence after this.

Now, when I was an undergraduate student, I could understand the attendance requirement. But as a graduate student, and a thirty three year old adult person, I find it a bunch of BS. I have paid for this class--$600, and if I decide to go twice, only to take the mid term and final, and am willing to risk I might fail due to missing lecture, it is my right. I do not like that I am being treated like a child who has to be forced to go to school. Didn't I choose to do this? Didn't I pay my own cash money to enroll in the class? I think I did. And if I want to waste that money, then it's my right.

So, I'm pissed off. I am already going to have three absences that are preplanned, which means I cannot miss even one more time or automatically, a B.

I am thinking about staging a sit in.

cell phones

First, let me say that I never upgrade my phone. I don't need a fancy one that takes photos or can get on the internet. I just need to be able to call people, and so long as I can do that, I'm okay. My husband, on the other hand has to have the newest and best cell phone on the market. Or at least he thinks he does. So, he was really excited when my phone charger broke and I said that I wanted to go and look at getting a new phone.

We talked about switching from Sprint to AT&T, but we have several phones tied to our Sprint account, and I decided to just see what Sprint had to offer. He wants the iPhone, and was really hoping for a switch, but I just didn't feel like messing with it.

So, we go to the Sprint store. It's a freestanding store, and it just sells Sprint phones, so it's not like some random guys just trying to make a buck. Only the second we walked in, I felt like I was buying a used car. This guy had his shirt unbuttoned with a big gold necklace with a M on it, that was accentuated by the many curly, dark hairs on his chest. And he was pushy. Like a used car salesman. Only I wasn't buying a $10,000 car, but instead a $100 phone. The best part was that they didn't tell me all of the charges for everything. You know, kind of like how you buy a car, but they hide the fact that say, oh the transmission doesn't work properly.

When did buying a phone come to this? Oh wait, it's always been kind of like that--a bunch of salesman trying to sell you a bunch of shit you don't need or want. Which is why I don't ever trade out my phone.

But the thing that really made me mad? It was that hidden charge. I've been with Sprint for at least five years, never paid anything late, and they wanted to charge me $18 to just activate the stupid phone. Ridiculous. I walked out. And then went straight to Target and bought a charger. Guess I'll just have to wait until the phone actually breaks.

nightmares

Last night I had a nightmare. Twice. I had it the first time, it woke me up, and I went to pee. Then I went back to sleep and had it again. Not the exact same nightmare, just a continuation of the first one. It's like I was watching a TV show, and the pee was my commercial break, and when I went back to sleep, the show was off commercial and started right back up again. Pissed me off so bad that after the second time, I just stayed awake. Does this ever happen to you? And why is it that it never happens with the good dreams. You know, those dreams where you are just about to kiss Christian Bale, and you wake up--you never get to start those back up again. It's over once you open your eyes never to return. It's just another of life's mysteries. You would think your brain would be less likely to return to the nightmare, and more likely to return to Mr. Hottie with his lips puckered up. But alas, it is not so.

Life is so unfair.

Tuition

I have never heard of this. Ever. Of course, when I was in college, it was near a decade ago, but whatever. That's not the point.

The point is that I cannot pay my tuition for my master's degree on my credit card! Do you know how many points in a year that would net me on my Disney Visa Rewards card? What, are they trying to protect students from racking up unGodly amounts of debt? I don't know, but it pisses me off. They'll take a debit card, but they charge a 2.75% surcharge, and if you write a freaking check they hold it for several weeks.

Stupid school.

Greeting Cards

The price of greeting cards makes me mad. I mean, come on, $4.50 for a card with some glitter and glue? Personally, I'd rather have you put that $4.50 onto the giftcard you're getting so I can spend it on something worthwhile rather than you spend it on a stupid card that I am just going to throw in the trash. I'd rather you make me a card and upgrade my gift by $4.50! So, if you're my friend and you are getting me a gift, please, forego the card. Honest.

I am banning greeting card companies. No more! I'll be picking up the blank cards out of the dollar bin at Target. Just so you know...

360 degrees?

It really annoys me when someone says another person has made a 360 degree turn around. Hello, Mr. Idiot--if someone made a 360 degree turn around, they'd be right back where they started. It's 180 degree turn around! ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY DEGREES!

Dumbasses.

Five little letters

There are five letters that incite immediate anger in me. Yep. It's OBGYN. And why is that?

It mostly comes from just one statement. And that statement is, "relaaaaxxx." Excuse me? You want me to relax? You want me to lay my legs back as far as they'll go while you shove a big metal thing up my vagina and then pop it open like you're jacking up a car? AND THEN, after that, you are going to stick your damned fingers up there and push on my stomach? And maybe, if I'm really lucky, you'll also stick your finger up my a-hole and push on my stomach again. And all of this intimacy is done in about five minutes? Puh-lease. I'm not relaxing. There's just no way. So stop telling me to do it! Just do your business, get done, and let me get the hell out of there, where hopefully I get to wait an entire year before I have to let you touch my ovaries again.

I hate going to the freaking OBGYN. It makes me mad.

Depression

Why do only women get depressed? It's unfair that a random daily unhappiness seems to be gender biased. It makes me mad.

My husband looks at me as if I am insane when I wake up and say, "I feel sad today." He always asks me why, and lots of days, quite honestly, I don't have an answer. Some days I just feel sad. There is no good reason. Logically, I know it's silly, but emotionally, I can't control it. And men, they just don't seem to get it. My husband has learned to just give me a hug, and occasionally he does say, "it's the hormones." But for the most part, he just tries to steer clear of me for that whole entire day. He's learned it's for the best. Otherwise, he'll say something that he thinks is really funny and clever and I think is really offensive and we wind up in a big fight--you know, like the word, "goodmorning." Sets me off every time. He may not get those sad days, but at least he's learning how to deal with them.

Oh, and did I mention that it also makes me mad when I wake up and feel sad for no reason? Because it does.

Editing

Think back to when you were in college. Think back to when you had to write term papers and had to pass them to a buddy for editing. Now imagine that your buddy was stupid. Imagine that your buddy has passed you her paper and it is the worst paper you have ever read. And then, imagine that your buddy marks your paper up with her little red pen.

Only, do you really want to take any of her comments seriously since her paper was full of stink? What a useless process! Makes me mad!

Spencer and Heidi

Hopefully, I do not need to explain why Heidi Montag and Spencer Pratt make me mad. But just in case...first off, they take up space in my People and my US weekly. This is annoying, because they are not famous for talent, be it either writing or acting or singing. And I could be reading about someone I actually care about rather than reading about why Heidi is stupid enough to marry Spencer when he is clearly a total ass. Which brings me to...Second, Heidi is the worst example of how a woman should behave when confronted with a boyfriend who treats her the way Spencer does. She is not a good role model for girls. And third, why does anyone care about their personal lives and whether or not they are going to get married? Is that all they have to offer by way of contribution to the public? Do they not have anything else interesting to talk about, either than each other and whether or not they are going to be hitched? I DO NOT UNDERSTAND this phenomenon! I imagine someone must care, or they wouldn't get so much face time, but I cannot figure out who those people are! Anyone? Anyone?

Uno

I went to Hideaway Pizza last night for dinner. It's not only the best pizza place in Oklahoma, but they have board games for playing while you wait on your food. Only last night, there was no Uno. And Uno is my very favorite. So, that just made me mad. All the great pizza in the world does not make up for the fact that their set of Uno cards was MIA.

quitter

I am horrible at failing. You're probably reading this and thinking, "Heeellllooo, isn't everyone horrible at failing?" And to that, I say, no, not really. Some people are positive in the event of a failure. Some people say, "we'll get them next time!" and work twice as hard and try to overcome the failure. Not me. Some people let it roll off their back, think tomorrow is another day. Again, not me.

Me? I am the kid who, if you didn't want to play my way, just wouldn't play. So, if I can't win, I'm really not all that interested. Which means, when I don't win, I don't want to play anymore. And in my personal life, it's fine, but at work, not so much. It's not like every time I am not successful I can just up and walk out of my job. It's not very responsible, and I would never amass a retirement for my RV excursions in later life.

But I still want to quit every time I fail at work. Because, well, I'm a quitter. And I'm not ashamed. It's not the best quality, but it's not the worst, either. If I can't win or be the super star or at least be close to being the super star, then I'm just not interested anymore.

And when I still have to get up and go to work and I don't want to, it makes me mad.

Pants

I have a favorite pair of pants. They are black and they are Marc Jacobs and they drape beautifully. I love them. Whenever I can't figure out what to wear in the morning, I grab those and any top, and I know I'll feel good about myself all day.

Only thing is, I've had the pants for four years now. Four beautiful years. And now, they are getting holes in the crotch. I say holes, but they are more like places where my thighs have rubbed together and rubbed the fabric raw. Both sides of the legs where my thighs touch--yep, worn completely through.

So, I have to get rid of the black pants. Or I guess I should get rid of the black pants. But they're still sitting in my closet, because I just can't bear to throw them away, even if they are completely worn through. And they were a fashion item, meaning not a staple, meaning I can't buy them again, EVER. I suppose it's tantamount to your favorite color of lipstick being discontinued--that perfect red that took you 32 tubes worth of tries to find, and now that you have the color that flatters you perfectly, it's being discontinued. Which puts you on the hunt for another perfect color, and in my case, on another hunt for a perfect pair of black pants.

Right now it makes me sad, but I'm quite sure as I wade through the sea of black trousers available and find none that compare to my favorite, worn out pair at home, I'll become mad. In fact, you can count on it.

Stuffed Polar Bear

Two more days of class, and two more days that girl has brought a stuffed polar bear to class! I cannot, for the life of me, understand why she is bringing a stuffed animal. AND THEN she holds onto it for the entire class.

Maybe she has an emotional disorder? Maybe she rides the short bus to school?

She has to be 20. She's a senior in college! And now we know she has more than one stuffed animal--first a dog, and now a polar bear. It's really annoying. Makes me mad.

Stuffed Dog

Some girl showed up for class on Thursday night with a stuffed dog. No joke. A big floppy, stuffed dog, and her boyfriend, who is not only not in our class, but not even an English major. I am not sure if she couldn't separate herself from him for the three hours, or what the deal was. But the dog? I mean, come on. We're in a class for adult people here. Why are you carrying a stuffed dog?

She sat with it in her lap "cuddling" it through the whole class as if she were in the privacy of her own home. Isn't college supposed to be the place where you learn to become an adult?

I'm not sure why, but it made me mad.

Late

I am never late. Ever. If I am supposed to be at work at 8, I'm there at 7:45. If I have class (which I have recently started up again) and it is at 5:45, then I'm there by 5:30. And so on, and so on...you get the point.

So, when my professor has a rule that every three tardies count as an absence, and four absences count as a fail, I've got no problems. Because unless there is a major emergency, I will be in class and on time. But his strict attitude with the late policy makes me think he's focused on the time.

Now, mind you, this class is three hours long. And we get one ten minute break. And other than that, the professor lectures the entire 3 hours about Chaucer and The Canterbury Tales. It's four nights a week. With all of that in mind, you think he would run out of stuff to say early, but alas, he does not. Instead we sometimes run past the 8:30 time and don't get out until 8:40.

This makes me mad. If I have to be there on time, and I am courteous and I listen to what you have to say, you should be courteous of my time and get done at 8:30. Sure, it's only ten minutes, but let me share with you my schedule for the day.

I get up at 6:45 AM. I get to work where I stay until 5 PM. I drive all the way across town--45 min trip to make it to class just in time where I stay until (apparently) 8:40. Then I have to drive 20 minutes to get home. At that point I have about two hours to work out on my elliptical, get a shower, and do any homework I have. So, 10 minutes is a lot of time to me! I could have taken a shower in that time! Or spent some QT with my husband who I have not seen all week.

The funny thing is (but probably not so funny to him) that I pack all of my books up at 8:30 on the dot and just sit and look at him. I would never have done this when I was 19 and in college, but now I'm 33. And I PAID over $500 to take this class. So, at 8:30, I'm done.

The schedule says 8:30 asshole, and if I'm courteous of your time and show up at 5:45, you best be courteous of my time and shut the hell up when the class is over.

Wal-Mart

My husband HATES Wal-Mart. He hates it because it has a negative impact on small businesses. He hates it because it squeezes the life out of the minimum wage workers it employs. He hates it because it tries to censor what movies, books, and music is sold in the store.

I also hate Wal-Mart, but it is for none of the reasons listed above. Alas, my reasoning is much simpler. I hate Wal-Mart, because it is a haven for white trash. It's like their mother ship is housed within the walls. It amazes me how many WT people I can find inside a Wal-Mart in the middle of the day. Nope, not on a Saturday, but on an actual work day--say, a Wednesday. They're in there with their five snotty nosed kids running amock, pulling shit off shelves, running into people with a basket, and when their kids actually HIT me, the parents look at me like I did something wrong. The people smell. They look like they haven't brushed their hair since 1982. Sometimes, they don't have on shoes. No, really. ADULTS, not kids. THEY DON'T HAVE ON SHOES.

They're everywhere you turn. You can't escape. Call me a snob. I don't care. But give me a city with a Target. You don't see people in a Target who are WT. I don't know why. I have never understood it. I go in a Target, and I see well groomed, well behaved people. Now, I'm not saying every person who shops at Wal-Mart is WT, or that every person who shops at Target isn't. But just for fun, go visit both on a Tuesday afternoon, and you can see for your self. On most days, with most people, this rings true.

I bet if I did a survey on why people shop at Wal-Mart, they'd say because it's cheaper. Actually, I know this is what they would say, because when I tell people I don't shop at Wal-Mart they look at me like I'm crazy, and say, "I get all of my groceries and health/beauty items at Wal-Mart, because it's so much cheaper."

Well, you know what? I'll spend that extra fucking quarter on a tube of toothpaste to shop with people who actually wear shoes when they go out in public. Thank you very much.

On the rare occasion I am forced to go to a Wal-Mart due to our corporate card usage agreements, I leave wanting to punch someone in the face. And I spend all the rest of the day thinking, "that damned Wal-Mart makes me mad."

Affirmative Action

I often times wonder if people who are chosen for things based on affirmative action find it offensive. One of my very best friends says no it is not offensive, because it is necessary. I ask her these types of questions, because she is of a minority ethnicity, and I know she will one, not be offended, and two, tell me the truth.

I am not a minority, white as white can be, unless you count being a woman in the minority category. So, you're probably wondering why I would be all worked up about affirmative action. It's not because I don't think ethnicities are discriminated again, or because I don't think people from different cultural backgrounds have an unfair advantage. I think both of these things are equally true.

But did you know that when you apply for college, based on your ethnicity and sex, your requirements are different? This offends me. Not as a white person, but as a woman (which in this case is considered a minority). I feel like someone is trying to tell me they don't think I'm as smart as a man--that my ACT or SAT score and GPA doesn't have to be as high, because let's face it, I can't possibly achieve what a man could achieve.

It makes me want to call all of those colleges and tell them to F off. Judge me the same way you'd judge a man! I can take it! I'm just as smart!

So I wonder if people of different nationalities feel the same way--like some people don't think they're good enough to get in on their own merits. Like they aren't as smart as white people, because their scores don't have to be as high to get into college.

I know it makes me mad. And I'm just a white woman.

Oh vs Zero

I have a work ID. It contains the letter O. All of the work IDs at my work contain a combination of letters and numbers. When you call around to different departments, they verify you by your ID before releasing any information to you. Fine with me. Except, every time I call and give my ID, I always say XXX-Oh-XXXX and then the first thing the person asks me is, is that Oh or Zero?

And I want to say, if it was fucking zero, don't you think I would have said zero? Because I didn't, I said Oh. I've had this ID for forever, you moron. I think I would know by now that if it was an actual zero to say zero, no oh.

Just a little thing that makes me mad.

Tight Jeans

Don't you hate it when you wash a pair of jeans and have to put them on for the first time? They're always tighter! Now some ladies might like that, but I don't really like tight jeans--they make me look like I have a muffin top. So, it just makes me cranky when I have to put on newly washed jeans.

If I could, I'd never wash them, but then they could probably stand up on their own.

Nachos

Don't you hate it when you get those yummy bowling alley style nachos and you don't have enough cheese for your chips, and then you pick up the last few chips and find lots of the gooey cheese hiding? AND THEN, you have no chips left to eat the hidden cheese with, and you ate a bunch of chips with just a little bit of cheese on them, not getting the full enjoyment out of your nachos.

Makes me mad every time. You think I'd wise up and look under the bottom chips when I start to run dry on the cheese, but alas, I apparently do not learn from experience.

Friday the 13th

When I was little, even a teenager, every time it was Friday the 13th they would show all of the films. Of course, when I was really young, there were only three, and now there are like fifteen, so it takes much longer to watch. I even remember in the last few years being able to flip the channel to AMC and be guaranteed to see Jason in his hockey mask. But tonight, I come home, on Friday the 13th expecting to find a marathon, and what do I find? Escape from New York. No Friday the 13th. Not on AMC, not on TMC, not on USA...nowhere to be found. What has happened in the world?

Makes me mad.

elliptical machine

I bought an elliptical machine in lieu of going to the YMCA. I've gone to the YMCA for the past ten years, and it was hard to sign that termination notice of membership. But I am starting on my masters this summer, and my time will be extremely limited with working a FT job and taking classes in the evening. I knew I would not be able to make it to the gym, so I decided to invest in a piece of work out equipment so I wouldn't be constrained by the hours of the gym.

So, now I have my elliptical. And it makes me mad, because now that it's at home, I feel like I have no reason to not work out every single day. Every day, I have at least five free minutes, so in that five free minutes I don't feel right sitting on my fat ass. I feel like I should get on that damned machine and burn five minutes worth of calories. It's wearing me out! Maybe when I'm fit and fabulous from all of my extra working out, I won't be so mad anymore.

Summer Bunny

When it's winter here in the midwest, and I am bundled up like an Alaskan with a coat over a sweater over a long sleeved shirt, I think about summer. I would go so far as to say I long for it. And as it comes round to April, and the days' temperatures start to climb into the mid 70s, I start thinking about pools and margaritas and sun dresses, and I cannot wait for the summer to officially start. I go to sleep dreaming about fishing season, and I wake up thinking about where I'll be camping all summer.

Only here, we have two seasons, winter and summer, with about a week of spring or fall in between. So, those 70s make a quick jump to 90 and then before you know it, it's 100 plus degrees outside. Which means that camping and fishing time fun can really only be had for a couple of weeks, because quicker than you can blink, it'll be hot as Hades. And quickly, I remember why I hate summer. It's like slapping myself in the forehead and thinking, "Oh yeah dumb ass, you hate summer because it's hot." And heat...heat makes me mad.

It's not cranky or a little irritable, it's MAD. I say the F word three times as much in the summer as I do in the winter. It will get so bad that in July, I won't even want to go outside. Not for anything, even shopping. My best friend is always inviting me to go to BBQs and pool parties and camping, and I tell her she's fucking crazy to voluntarily be outside when it's so hot, you can't even pull your pants down to pee, because your pants are stuck to the inside of your sweaty thighs.

There is nothing that makes that heat better--not a pool, not good food, not even the best frozen margarita in the world. Give me some good air conditioning and cable TV and that is how I'll plan on spending July and August (and September and October--it doesn't get cool here until after Halloween).

I always seem to forget mid winter that you can put more clothes on to ward off the cold, but even if everyone walked around naked, it would still be hot as a mother fucker in Oklahoma and the great state of Texas.

So, what does all of this mean? It means I am not a summer bunny. And if you run into me on the street in the middle of July. Stay the hell away. I'm mad.

Ball juggler

So at first, I was going to write about how I get mad at myself for always calling my husband out when he forgets something, and then guess what? He forgot something, and now I'm mad, so instead, I'll write about how the fact that he can remember all kinds of random shit that applies to him and not a fucking thing that applies to me makes me mad.

See, if you knew me at all, you'd know I'm kind of anal. I am the person who juggles fifteen balls at once and never drops one. Well, maybe on a very rare occasion, but for the most part, they're constantly in motion between my hands or in the air. I never forget anything, EVER. I can recite entire conversations I had in 1983 and tell you what I wore on my first day of Junior year. My husband is the kind of person who would have one ball, set it down on the table, turn around to get a drink of water, and forget where he put it. Or even worse, that he was trying to juggle.

Tonight, he was supposed to hook up my brand new photo printer that he got me for my birthday. He had a poker game at 7:30, and he said he would hook it up before he went. But he got on the elliptical machine, and I left to go to a meeting, and I come home, and guess what? No printer. The real kicker is that when I call the man to ask him what happened, thinking maybe it didn't work or something, he blames it not getting hooked up on the fact that I told him to get on the elliptical, and that after that he didn't have time (mind you he was off the elliptical at 6 PM BEFORE I left for the meeting). Of course, what that really means is he forgot. And when I ask him, he confirms just that.

You are probably thinking, why didn't I just hook it up myself? And that answer would be because if I jacked up anything on the computer, he would kill me. Murdered. Dead. On the floor.

If this were a one time deal, it wouldn't be nearly as fucking annoying. But I kid you not, this man forgets everything--except of course, what time poker starts, where the game is, how many people are going to be there, and that he needs to go by the ATM to get his cash out to play. But the photo printer? I bet he doesn't even remember he bought me one for my birthday.

I am sure there are worse qualities to deal with in a husband. Mine is not a cheater or a liar (except about things he forgets) or even an asshole. But I can't imagine the next fifty years having to pin notes to his shirt to get him to do things. Sheesh.

Arrested Development

This was a good show. I mean, really, a good show. It was actually funny and original and interesting every single week. And it got canceled because Americans didn't watch it. They watch a bunch of stupid reality TV crap or sitcoms with a laugh track to let you know when you're supposed to laugh (because they're not funny enough to actually make you laugh). But good TV? Forget it. So, the good shows get canceled, and I get stuck with watching "Farmer Wants A Wife."

It makes me mad.

Grab and Go

Do they have Love's where you live? The one that's a gas station that usually has a Subway or an A&W in them, where truck drivers can get everything their hearts desire? We have them all over Oklahoma, and on my way through to Dallas, I always stop in Ardmore to get a mini Godfather's pizza. Godfather's is no longer open as a restaurant, so it is the only place you can get their pizza anymore. There is a sign on the warmer rack (no, they don't make it fresh), and it say "grab and go." So, if you're in a hurry, you grab your pizza and go. I look forward to it every time I drive to Dallas. I would almost say it is the highlight of my trip.

So, you can imagine my dismay when I pull up and run in to "grab and go" and there are no pizzas to grab. It's not like they're just out of pepperoni or meat lover's, they're out of everything. And I would say this is the case 50% of the time--that there are no pizzas to "grab and go." Every time I get there and there is no pizza, I want to rip down their little "grab and go" sign and throw it at someone. It really pisses me off. Clearly, it doesn't take a genius to figure out you can't "grab and go" if there's nothing to grab. And then you have to wait like 15 minutes to get a pizza. That just totally defeats the whole purpose now, doesn't it?

Birthdays

First, let me say, I am an only child. My birthday was always an huge deal growing up, with lots of cake, lots of presents, and most importantly, lots of fanfare. I grew up believing my birthday was a special day, and as an adult, I still treat it as such. I start my countdown at the beginning of May (my birthday is on the last day), and I begin the celebration a week out. Usually, I go somewhere on a trip, and I NEVER work on my birthday. EVER. Basically, it's a big deal.

So, here's what makes me mad. Anyone who knows me know this. I announce it to the world--that my birthday is coming, that I am excited, that I love birthday attention. And if people choose to not do something that is fine, but at least they know. There are some people in the world who sit idly by pretending that their birthday is not a big deal, and that is fine as well. But IT IS NOT FINE for someone to pretend it is not a big deal, and then get angry or upset when nobody makes a big deal out of it. If you want a big deal, let people know for goodness sakes!

Don't say, "I don't need anything," when someone asks you what you want, and then sulk when you don't get anything. It just isn't fair. This just doesn't make any sense.

And on that note--"It's three days until my birthday!"

The maid is fired

When I was little, I used to joke with my Mom that doing laundry was her hobby. She does laundry like you've never seen. Colors never fade, clothes never shrink, everything comes out looking as if I had it taken to the dry cleaner. Unfortunately, I did not inherit this gene. I did, however, learn the basics of doing laundry. Meaning I separate the items out. I do the dark colors with the dark colors. I do the whites with the whites. I put like fabrics together. I even change the setting on the washing machine from Permanent Press or Cotton to Delicates when I wash my "under things."

Whenever I dump out my hamper and start sorting my clothes all over the floor and I yell at my husband, "do you have any white stuff that needs to be washed?" He looks at me like I'm insane (you'd think by now, after he's seen me do this nine hundred times he would stop), and he says, "I just put all my stuff in together. Why do you sort yours out?" And for the nine hundredth time I tell him sorting laundry is important. It keeps the colors from fading, and even more importantly, it keeps the colors from running.

So, today, I am putting in my clothes after returning from camping, and I ask, "do you have any clothes to put in the washing machine?" And I stick my stuff in and he sticks his stuff in and long story short, all of our stuff comes out blue. Why? Because dillhole stuck a blue hoodie that had never been washed in with all of our clothes. That's what I get for letting him be in charge. Learned my lesson.

Do you think next time, when I'm sorting, he'll ask me why I don't just wash it all together? I bet you five whole dollars that he does.

Panty Hose

I will wear a good pair of tights. I put dark ones on in the winter with cute boots, and they keep me warm, and I love them. I can throw them in the washing machine, and wear them a good ten or twelve times and they are still in great condition. I love thick ones and patterned ones and bright colored ones.

But what I hate are panty hose. I cannot stress enough how strongly I feel the word hate deep down in my soul every time I think about these hideous things. They are uncomfortable, they are ugly, and worst of all, you can probably wear the pair one time before you get a run in them and then have to throw them away.

Men complain about ties, about how they are uncomfortable and hot. How about having to put a tight pair of nylon made crotch huggers on and wearing them around in 105 degree heat? You think your neck is hot, let's talk about how great you'd feel with your crotch all hot and sweaty. And at least if you pay $40 for a tie, you can wear it until the end of all time. I pay $4 for a pair of hose I get to wear once before I have to throw them in the trash. Talk about a waste of money.

And did I mention they are UGLY? If they looked really great, I could maybe understand. But they are hideous looking, and people make all kinds of fashion blunders with them. Black hose with white shoes. Toe seamed hose with open toed shoes. Hose with sandals. They are just something else to confuse the fashionably inept.

They should be removed from all shelves and burned. Just my opinion.

Hand Eye Coordination

I have horrible hand eye coordination, and on top of that horribly slow reflexes. (Do those go hand in hand?) I am one of those people, who when you raise your hand up like you are going to play slap me, and thirty seconds later I react.

Usually, in my adult life, being that I play no intramural sports, it does not affect me.

Only recently, my husband and I have added to our library of Wii games. Last night, I thought, "hey, why not try some of these out?" I never, and I mean NEVER play video games. It is usually because of my aforementioned affliction. My husband, on the other hand, being the nerd he is, grew up on computer and video games. It is one of the few times I think he is a genius--when I see him in action with the Wii controller.

Now, I don't know if everyone is familiar with the Wii controller, but it is much more difficult to use than your average controller. You hold it in/with one hand, not two, and then there is another part you hold in your other hand. So, (in case you're not getting it), you actually are manning TWO controllers--both which have buttons. You use ALL of the buttons to make your man shoot, run, walk, stab people with a knife, etc. I'm trying to play Resident Evil 4, and apparently it is so funny, that my husband decides to get out the video camera while I try to shoot zombies and say the F word five hundred times. That'll be one to save and show to the kids!

I die quickly, and while it is painless, the obvious deflation of my pride is not.

Of course, when it's his turn, he hits every single zombie right in the head, clears them with one shot, and doesn't even break a sweat, much less utter a foul four digit word.

And that, my good friends, is why I NEVER play video games.

Rain

How is it it's always bright and sunny on the days when I'm hard at work, slaving away for "the man," and then, on the weekend I'm supposed to go camping a big storm is due in. The little picture shows lightning and everything! Yes, it does...it makes me mad.

Waiting

I get both my eyebrows and hair done at N Style Salon on Penn here in the great state of Oklahoma. And yesterday, I had an appointment. They are always scheduled back to back, because the salon isn't close to my house and who wants to drive a long way for an eyebrow wax?

So, I show up five minutes early, because I'm the type of person who, if I'm late, it's because I'm not coming. And the receptionist shows me to the day spa, and I wait and wait and wait. Finally, twenty five minutes later, I get up and go out to the receptionist and tell her I don't want to wait anymore, because I have a hair appointment for which I am already late. So, she goes and gets my hair stylist who comes up to me and asks me if I got Whitney's message (Whitney is the eyebrow lady).

Well, "no," I say..."I left my phone at home." And she tells me Whitney had to cancel the appointment. Which is fine with me, and I'm not mad at Whitney at all, because I understand things come up, but why in the hell did the receptionist let me sit there for 25 minutes waiting on someone who wasn't even there? I was super mad. I think I'm going to have to call and complain.

Sad days

Days when I feel sad for no reason make me mad. I just want to lay in bed and pull up the covers and watch Lifetime Movie Network all day without thinking about anything. When my husband asks me why, I realize I don't really have a reason. It simply is what it is. A sad day.

flowers

People who plant plastic flowers in pots and (even worse) in the ground in areas outside and around their home make me mad. It's just plain tacky. Period. And who do they think they're fooling anyway? Do they think even one single person drives by their house and doesn't recognize that those flowers are plastic? Are they drunk?

big boobs (again)

Today, my boobs are making me mad. I bought a cute striped shirt from J. Crew--square neckline, cute little cap sleeves, but it's one of those loose fit type shirts. You know, the ones that are like a tunic dress, but are just a shirt? I really liked it, so I bought it, but now that I have it on today...not so much. If it would lay flat, it wouldn't look so bad. But with my big boobs, I look like I weigh about 20 more pounds.

I still don't understand why people pay to have these annoying things. Really, I don't.

$70 textbooks

I have not been a student for a very long time. Ten years plus. But I have decided to go back to school at night and get my masters. So, yesterday, I head up to The University of Central Oklahoma, better known as UCO, to get my student ID, parking permit, and my books for the one class I am taking.

This one class, is four days a week, 3.5 hours a night, four weeks total, and is all over Chaucer. I didn't know Chaucer had written quite that much and I can't imagine what we are possibly going to study for 56 hours around his writing. But the real kicker, other than being the oldest person after the professors on the entire campus, was going to the bookstore. I had forgotten how much textbooks were!

I find my class listed, and there is only one book above the list, and I am thinking, "whew!" I was afraid I was going to have to buy four or five and spend over $100. A lady comes up who works there and tells me she thinks she has one of the books used and can save me $20, and I'm thinking--"WOOHOO! Cheap book!" And so I glance at the price on the new books to see how much I'm going to have to pay and about have a heart attack. That one book alone was $95! The used price was $65! God Bless that lady for saving me $30!

It made me really angry to have to pay $70 ($65 plus the tax) for a stupid book I one, didn't want in the first place, two, would never read again, and three, would probably get $15 for when I sold it. But that will be a whole other post, I'm sure. Check back at the end of the summer session.

Gary England

I don't know how it works where you live, but here in Oklahoma, our meteorologists are busy not only with crazy weather, but also with interrupting all of my TV programs to tell me there are thunderstorms on the way. Not so bad if they came on in the middle of the gajillion commercials shown, but noooo, they wait until right as the show comes back on, and is at a pivotal moment, and then, before I know it, I'm looking at a big fat picture filled with Gary England and his stupid weather maps. What's even more annoying is that half the time there's not even so much as a drop of rain. A whole big build up, an interruption of my show, and then nothing. Asshole.

Irregardless

makes me mad, because it's not an actual word. Yes, it shows in the dictionary, but only because stupid people use it. It also says in the entry that it is not a standard word. The absolute worst is when people use it because they think it is a "big word" and makes them sound smart. Idiots.

Morning time

Having to get up earlier than my regular scheduled time makes me angry. I wind up cranky for the whole day. Mornings suck, but they suck even more when they start thirty minutes earlier.

Big Boobs

Have you seen Beautiful Girls? If not, you should. It's a great movie with a great story and a great looking, but young Natalie Portman. There is one part with Rosie O'Donnell where she is shopping in the grocery store and she goes into a long diatribe with these two fellahs about how big girls have big boobs and how little girls have little boobs. It's how God made the world fair. If you're little and have a perfect body, you get no boobs. The benefit of having a few extra pounds means you get big luscious boobs. Sounds fair to me.

Only now, with plastic surgery, little girls can have any size boobs they want. They can weigh a buck o five and have boobs that are bigger than their head. Never mind that I hate my big boobs. I hate that I can't wear tank tops or cute summer blouses without looking like I'm trying to be in porn. I hate that I have to buy all my button up shirts a size larger because I get that pull on the fabric that is between the two buttons that are right at the bust line. I hate that I look like I weigh ten more pounds than I actually do because I have a big boobs or that sometimes, after the movies, I find popcorn that has fallen into my cleavage.

Never mind these things. It still pisses me off that someone who was born with little boobs can pay someone 5K, still get to look thin and perfect, and get the same melons I have. It's just one more thing in a long list of things that make the world not fair.

Riverwind casino

Why is the guys' night on Friday night? Guys get $10 free play on Friday--they get to go out, have a good time, party it up...all on a Friday night. Girls' night at Riverwind casino is on Monday night. What kind of bullshit is that? Who wants to drive out to BFE Norman Oklahoma on a Monday night and get crazy gambling and drinking it up? Monday night is the worst night of the entire week. Nobody wants to go out on a Monday night. Nobody feels festive on a Monday night. It's the first night of a whole new week of torture and hell at your job. I'd like to see the numbers on how successful guys' night is vs. girls' night.

I mean, really, what kind of gender bias is that?

Funny Games US

Have you seen this movie? It made me more mad than any movie I have ever seen. If you haven't seen it, watch it, and let me know if you feel angry.

Men's eyes

I wonder if I have the same eyes as my husband. Well, not the same eyes. I know we don't share the SAME eyes. What I wonder is if the eyes are made the same. Because every week or so, I come home, and I look in the back yard, and I think, "man, the grass is already high again." But he looks at the backyard and sees nothing. Lots of times I come home and I look at the one rug we have on our hardwood floor, and it has lots of grass and dirt on it that our dog has brought in, and I think, "Lord, this rug needs to be vacuumed." He comes home, and sees nothing. Or what about dust? Sometimes someone has brushed up against the TV, and there is a smudge in the dust, so when I turn it on I think, "Ewww, there's a lot of dust on the TV." He turns it on and sees, guess what? Yep, nothing.

So, when I say, "hey, do you think you could mow the back yard or help me vacuum or maybe dust something?" He looks at me like I have lost my damned mind and says, "we just did that last week." What, you think if you clean it once it stays clean forever? It's a magic self cleaning house? If there's one on the market, can you please upgrade your job to where you make a million dollars so we can get one of those? Because otherwise dumbass, you have to clean and mow and pull weeds and wash windows on a cyclical basis. It never ends. I promise, you are never going to mow the yard and then the grass is going to miraculously stop growing. Unless, of course, you have set it on fire or it is the first freeze of the year. So, stop looking at me like I'm crazy and start using your eyes to see the shit that is accumulating everywhere while you're sitting there with your head in the fucking computer.

I love my husband, but sometimes he makes me mad.

smack it up

People who smack their food make me want to slap them in the face. What, were you born in a barn, gross ass?

Hem

I do not like to hem pants. As a matter of fact, I don't like to hand stitch anything. I have multiple projects that have made it to the final stages of completion, and they still lay uncompleted, simply because I will not pick up a needle and thread.

This laziness would be sad for anyone. But for me, it is especially devastating, as I paid $30,000 for a fashion design degree, and I send my pants to the dry cleaner and pay an additional $8 a pair to have them hemmed. I do not care. It is worth the $8 to not have to hem them. Using my valuable time to hem a pair of pants just makes me mad.

resident aliens

I follow the law. I believe in people fighting, picketing, standing up against an unfair law, but as long as a law is a law, I follow it.

Current law states citizens of other countries cannot be in the US illegally. I understand the arguments for and against it, and quite frankly, I could care less. At this point in time, the law has legal ways for people from other countries to legally be in the US (yes, I know they are sometimes difficult and expensive processes), and if someone chooses to not follow those routes, then that is against the law.

Where is this going? I had two Mexican citizens in my office yesterday who wanted to open a bank account. They had none of the proper documentation, no Visa, no passport, nothing. They actually admitted to me that they were here illegally when I asked them their citizenship status--are they residents, permanent residents, etc? THEN, they had the nerve to bitch me out because I couldn't help them open an account without the proper documentation. And told me, "Americans make it so hard for us to be successful here."

Are you shitting me? Is it my fault you opted to leave your country and come to the US illegally? Is it my fault you do not have proper documentation? Did I write this law?

Don't blame your failed attempt to participate in illegal activities without the proper documentation on me. Makes me mad.

Commercials

It makes me mad when they show commercials for food places we don't have in our state. Mostly, I'm talking about Dairy Queen. There are none here anymore, and yet we have commercials for them. It's terribly aggravating to be having an insane craving for a Peanut Buster Parfait from one of those damned commercials and not be able to get one without having to drive two hours to get to Texas.

My Coke Rewards

It makes me mad now that I have a lot of saved up points that there is nothing worth buying on the site! All of the stuff on there is stupid! I keep looking thinking they are going to change things on the site, give me something I might want to spend my points on, but alas...no go. Still nothing worth buying on the my coke rewards site. Guess I'll go back to drinking Diet Dr. Pepper.

Big Dipper

I am not a germaphobe. I do not care if someone double dips in my cheese sauce or in my ranch dip. Doesn't bother me a bit. But what makes me mad, is when you are sharing dip, and someone is a big dipper. I am a small dipper. I dip my chip, bread, etc. into the sauce, and whatever sticks to it is what I eat. My husband uses his chip like a shovel and haul as much dip onto it as possible before shoving it into his mouth. I could make a container of French Onion Dip last two weeks. He could get four scoops out, and the thing would be empty. Tres annoying when you're at a restaurant and order a dip (spinach artichoke for example) that doesn't come with free refills, and you get two bites, and the other person gets two bites, and the whole thing of dip is gone.

Trash Men

Our trash man comes on Monday night. You have to put your trash can out right at the edge of the curb in the exact right location, or they don't pick up your trash. But then can dump the trash and then leave your can wherever the hell they want. Usually, it's blocking our drive way, and they've dropped the neighbor's in the street. So, it's like I'm running through an obstacle course to get out of my own drive way on Tuesday morning. Lazy trash men make me mad.

Bosses

I have done some type of sales my entire career. Well, that's not entirely true. There have been maybe two jobs where I have not been involved directly in sales, meaning I wasn't selling something to customers, but I was still selling something. Being in sales, I have always had sales goals. And as I've moved up the chain and managed a few places, I have been responsible for making my sales goals through other people.

I am good at my job. I work hard, and I am competitive, and I care about whether or not I make my goals. I'm at work to win. I want to be the best in our market. So, I bust it every single day.

What makes me mad is when I have to call in my numbers at the end of the day, and I didn't quite hit the goal. Or didn't even get in the right state, much less in the right ball park. And my boss--the big boss as I call him--says, "Well, what happened?"

"You know what Mr. Big Boss? Between drinking all of those margaritas and the ping pong tournament we conducted in our store with the staff, we just didn't have time to actually work with any customers today. We let them know we'd be in full swing tomorrow, and they could stop back by then, when we were in a better position to assist them--meaning, not drunk. So, tomorrow, my numbers should look better."

I mean what kind of stupid question is that? If I knew what happened, I would have fixed the problem and sold something! I'm an adult professional. Although it is not a sixty year life span, I have done this my entire life. I know it is hard to believe that I am not completely retarded, and didn't give people the finger when they walked in the door today. And even harder to believe what really happened. That being that nobody actually came inside the store today because there was a torrential downpour outside during the hours we were open, and I couldn't get hold of anyone on the phone to generate any business, because most people are at work in the middle of the day. Shocking, I know.

Sometimes I think there may be no hope for upper management.

crotch

The word crotch...it makes me mad. It's just a nasty sounding word. Some people are offended by the word "pussy," and some people by the word "bitch," but not me. I'm offended by the word "crotch."

Elliptical

People who get on the elliptical machines at the gym that have both mobile arms and legs and then do not use the arm part really annoy me. Especially when there are machines available where the arms are stationary. Do they not know that there are people who want to use only the elliptical machines where the arms move? Then I have to wait for them to get off a piece of equipment they weren't using right in the first place.

Can you say smelly?

People who smell bad make me mad. They make me even more mad when I have to interact with them for a long period of time (read 10 minutes) and am forced to smell their stink. It's one thing to have to run an errand right after you go to the gym and have a little bit of post work out smell to you. It's a whole other thing to smell like you don't know how to even use deodorant, much less what it is.

Final Sale

Are you familiar with a final sale? In case there's a man out there reading, a final sale is a fabulous clearance where you get items for dirt cheap, but they can't be returned. Now that's one thing when you are actually in a store where you can try things on, but a whole other animal when you shop online, because you have no way of knowing whether or not an item runs small or big or is a tight in the butt...you get the picture.

I shop J. Crew a lot, and I love the prices on the final sale items. There's some really great stuff, marked to near nothing--which means I can get a $200 dress for $85, which is a bargain to me, but my husband doesn't necessarily see the same value in it. Neither here nor there, I see the items, but I never actually buy them. And you know why? Because they're not returnable. I'm not a size 2, so everything doesn't look fabulous on me, and while an $85 dress is a great deal, it's not a great deal if my ass doesn't fit into it and I can never wear it.

But finally, there were some really cute head bands on sale, and who doesn't need a patent leather yellow headband? So, I folded--gave in to the yearning--and finally bought something from the final sale. I got the headband--fabulous!--and I wore it three times, and it broke. How does a headband break, you ask? Thank you so much for asking. The elastic part that goes around the bottom part of your head that holds the headband in place, broke at a seam, so now I cannot wear the headband.

It makes me mad I can't even complain about the shoddy craftsmanship when I go to return the headband, because I CAN'T RETURN THE HEADBAND!

The moral of this story is...do not buy things on final sale. They are on final sale for a reason. Lesson learned.

Where did you take Driver's Ed?

Because half of the world does not understand the concept of a turn signal. A turn signal, in case you do not know, is used to let other people know you are making a turn. ANYTIME you are making a turn, you should put on your signal. See, I live by a major street. So, turning right or left to get out is sometimes a hassle. I also live about two blocks from the busiest mall in my city, so Christmastime is delightful as far as getting anywhere outside my neighborhood. There is nothing that makes me more angry (well, maybe there are some things) than sitting at the end of my street waiting to make a right or left turn and having some idget get right up to my street and then turn, without ever putting on a signal. This might be confusing for you, so let me explain. Basically, what I'm saying is, I could have gotten out onto the major street had I known Mr. (or Ms.) Idget was going to be turning. But instead, I sat there and waited,thinking they were going to continue on the major street (how dumb of me!) as they turned with no warning, and now I have missed my chance and must wait for five more minutes.

The turn signals were put there for a reason dillhole! They are worth lots of points on your driver's ed test, and if you do not use them, you can FAIL. F-A-I-L. It is my opinion that you should have to retest in order to get your license renewed. Maybe then, these inconsiderate a-holes will remember what common courtesy is. Or maybe one day they'll take it in the bumper. A good rear ending from another car unaware of the intent to turn would surely cure them of this annoying habit.

It's tough being back in the real world and off vacation.

And I'm out!

I am leaving on vacation today, so posts until March 25th will be few and far between--maybe none. When I return I am sure I will have much to write about! I'm more predisposed to anger when I'm on vacation. Doesn't make much sense, I know, but there's many more people with whom to interact who are stupid and therefore annoying.

in laws

Soon to be in laws make me mad. I am quite certain that the same in laws, when they are officially in laws, will still make me mad.

Double parkers

No, I'm not talking about parallel parking. What I'm talking about is the dillhole who goes to the mall on a Saturday afternoon and parks their car across the line so that they're taking up two spaces. Now, I know there are some people who just can't park. And there are some people, who when they went to park had another person next to them who had gone over the line, which forced them to go over the line. But what I'm talking about here are Mr. Hummers who have a brand new fancy car, and think because they bought something half the price of my house,they are entitled to use up two parking spaces so their car doesn't scratched. It makes me mad. Nobody wants their car door dinged at the mall. But the difference between me and that a-hole is he's practically asking for some pissed off mall patron (like myself) who has driven around for forty minutes and cannot find a single available space (like myself) to throw a little pebble at his paint job and pray it makes a scratch. At the very least, if you feel you are completely justified in using two spaces, come to the mall on a Monday night. Don't come in the middle of a Saturday afternoon.

And if you have a scratch on your car, don't look at me.

Co workers

It makes me mad when a coworker eats my food. Who gets in a refrigerator and eats something they know does not belong to them? What if I walked in and found them eating my food? Aren't they afraid?

There is nothing more upsetting than dreaming of the leftover pizza you have in the refrigerator and then going into the breakroom to find it has disappeared by way of someone else's digestive system. So upsetting. Ruins my whole day.

Poo Poo Pants

It makes me mad when people bring kids who have pooped in their diaper into my office and then proceed to conduct an hour's worth of business in a small enclosed space while I am subjected to the stink of their offensive smelling child. It is abhorrible.

Skinny people

I'm not thin. I'm not fat, either, but I'm definitely not thin. I'm 5'8, fluctuate between 145 and 150 and I wear a size ten. This means that I can look good, but only if I choose clothes wisely. I have fat legs, so I can't wear mini skirts or short shorts. I don't have a waist, so anything that accentuates that is not good for me. There are trends I cannot wear at all, because they do not flatter my figure. I have to spend extra time and be extra careful when choosing a swimsuit, because some look okay, but some make me look like a fat cow.

My best friend, she's a thin person. She weighs around 100 pounds. I hate her for it every time she has on a short skirt with cowboy boots, or when we go on a SCUBA trip, and we're sitting next to each other on the dive boat in our swimsuits. If I didn't look fat before, sitting next to 100 pounds in a bikini makes me look like the fattest person on the boat.

I wonder what it must be like to look good in everything. Thin people must spend a fortune on clothes. I weed out half of what I buy by eliminating things that just don't look good on me. How much would I spend if everything looked fabulous? What if every time I put a dress on, I looked like a million bucks? Would it cost me a million bucks?

Or to never have to worry about whether or not I look fat in something? I spend half my day adjusting my skirt/jeans/slacks to make sure I don't have a muffin top--or adjusting the back of my bra to create the illusion that I have no back fat. What if there really was none?

What if I could eat whatever and never have to work out and could still wear that fabulous bikini hanging in the Juniors section at Target, even though I'm 32?

And for all of these reasons, thin people make me mad. Why is it some people get to have spectacular bodies without even trying? I can't imagine what I might have done in a past life to be punished so. Not only am I not one of these people, but I am also forced to sit next to one of them on the SCUBA boat. Probably for the rest of my life. Just my luck.

lines

I'm waiting in line at Hobby Lobby. I'm waiting behind four or five people to purchase some ribbon and thread for dresses. After a moment the cashier who notices the long line calls up another cashier, and as they open their register, they say, "I can take whoever is next."

Now why is it when people at the end of the line hear this they proceed like a herd of animals to the new register that was just opened? Even if five people are waiting ahead of them, they think they can cheat the system and cut and get up to the register before the people who have been waiting. The cashier did not say, "whoever has waited the shortest amount of time, please, cut everyone else. I opened this register just to accommodate you so you wouldn't have to wait longer than 30 seconds. Please disregard the other people who have been waiting longer. In fact, cut them off as they move to exit the line they are waiting in and get in my line, so that when they actually make it into my line, they will have to wait longer than they would have had they stayed in the original line." Rude people make me mad.

NUTS!

Why is it nuts are so expensive? Are they really hard to harvest or something? I'm not asking in a smart ass way, I'm honestly curious. I'm not talking about peanuts, but the good nuts--cashews, pistachios, almonds. We were at the grocery store last night--not a fancy earthy health type one, but a regular old Homeland--and there was a bag of pistacios calling my name. Only it was like 50 pistachios for around $5.00. That's 10 cents a nut (yes, folks, in addition to my many other talents, I can do math)! It made me mad. I really wanted those pistachios. But I'll be damned if I was going to pay 10 cents per nut for a bag.

appetizer

I order an appetizer to appease my appetite while I'm waiting on my entree. I do not usually order an appetizer unless I am starving and cannot fathom having to wait until my actual meal arrives. So, it really makes me mad when the waiter/waitress brings my appetizer at the same time they bring my entree. Why in the hell would I order an appetizer if I wanted it with my entree? Why would I say, "to start out with, we'd like the ___." What is it they think I mean exactly? If I was ordering it with my meal, I'd be ordering it as a side dish, not as an appetizer. And then, they look at me like I'm crazy when they bring it out with my meal and I no longer want it. I wanted it as an appetizer! Now that my actual meal is here, I'm not interested in the "pre-meal" anymore. Sheesh, people...

the end

I think I've mentioned somewhere that I love horror movies. I love the good ones, but I'm a rare breed--I like the bad ones, too. But what I don't like, what makes me mad, is when I'm watching one that is really good...you know one that actually makes you feel afraid, like you might have a nightmare or feel scared when you go into your dark and empty house that night by yourself...one of those ones, and then the ending is really stupid. And it just ruins the whole entire movie. Because I'll be sitting there watching that movie, thinking in my head, "wow, this one is really good," (because believe me, a good horror movie is a true rarity), and then at the end, I'll wind up thinking, "what the hell was that?" Just like that. In five minutes, that perfect horror movie is ruined by some idiot who couldn't write an ending. It really pisses me off.

pedicure

It makes me mad when you get your toenails done, and they look all nice and ready for summer (even when it is not summer) painted a color with a fun name like Tango or Ruby Slippers or something like that, and then, the next day, you ram your toe on something and it chips the polish. $30 down the drain. Just like that.

Oscar

I am not a movie snob. I admit to watching multiple B grade horror movies on a Friday night. I love a romantic comedy. I'll watch an Indie or two, every once in awhile. The point here is I watch movies, all kinds of movies, but I watch them to be entertained. As long as I'm watching something that keeps my attention (which trust me, is hard), I don't care what it is.

I oftentimes think movie snobs like art for arts sake. They annoy me. They are pretentious. They do not appreciate movies--just certain types of movies. They are a lot like book snobs (which I am sure I will post about another day). They look down on people who watch movies in regular theaters--you know, those theaters that do not show ONLY independent films. I cannot stand these people.

But I digress. My main point here is that the Oscar contenders for best picture make me mad every year. One out of five, maybe in a good year two, are worth watching. Some of them are great because the acting is great. And some of them are great because they are an in depth character study. But some of them are horrible. They are long winded, have no point, and evoke zero emotion. I do not understand how they are nominated. I actually have to suffer through some of these films just to be able to say I've educated myself on all Oscar contenders prior to making my own "winner" selection. I cannot possibly imagine how any one person, much less a group of people got together, sat down, and thought, "man, I know that movie just sucked away two hours of my life, and wasn't even mildly interesting, but it's long, it's a period piece, nothing really happens in the whole movie, and it has some good acting in it. Definitely, this one should be up for best picture."

And for this crap hole list of movies I have to watch every year to maybe find one that I think is worthy of such a prestigious award? I blame the damned movie snobs. Those people who watch the movie and say it's good, because they think they're supposed to like it. They don't want to tell their other movie snob friends that they didn't like the best picture contenders. Because they might be shunned. They might be shunned by their other snobby movie friends. And then what? Their movie opinion would have no clout, and they would be forced to go to AMC or Lowe's to watch the "common" movies with the rest of us.

Once there they might discover the true value of entertainment. Maybe the cinematic pleasures of Transformers and The Bourne Ultimatum would not be lost on them. Maybe they would see the value of a blockbuster movie and what it had to offer. And *alakazam!* no more movie snob.

One can hope...