I'm feeling annoyed today, and because it is Monday that is increasing it ten-fold. Therefore, I must vent:
Complaint #1: Bank of America Sucks Donkey Balls
I have done my banking there since 1996, and have pretty much hated them since the inception of our relationship for one reason or another, though I'm not sure there is a banking establishment out there that I would truly love. It just kind of is what it is, and I stay because it is a pain to move everything. HOWEVER, I recently received a random envelope in the mail from them saying "Hey, here's a new debit card because your info was potentially compromised. Totally our bad, sorry about that." And there were three main things that really irked me about the situation: 1) WTF? Potentially compromised? The nonchalance of the letter was irritating. 2) The card had a new number (obvs) but I had my old one memorized -- which proved very convenient when making online purchases at new retailers -- no need to dig through my wallet! and 3) Do you know how many things I have automatically debit out of my account? About a million -- netflix, the gym, student loan payments...yada, yada, yada...you get it. But let's just say in the last 3 weeks I have gotten a lot of "Something is wrong with your credit card" emails and phone calls (including a "Collections" call from 24 Hour Fitness complete with a rude ass girl on the other line demanding payment) and I would really like to just punch Bank of America in the stomach each time I have to deal with it.
Complaint # 2: Yahoo! You Are Dead to Me
So about a week ago I tried to sign into my Yahoo! account and got an irritating error message. I sent the appropriate complaint and received a canned response of "We're working on it!" And then I waited. And sent another complaint. And got another canned response. And waited. And got an email with a ticket #. And waited. I don't know what the hell they are working on but after more than a week I still can not check my mother-loving email. And for someone who checks their email probably 30 times a day this is...oh, how do you say...UNFUCKINGACCEPTABLE! Everything comes to that email address. EVERYTHING. Obviously I am going to have to move on to another address (especially after googling this problem and reading about people who have been dealing with it for over a year...um, no) but again, now I have to figure out by trial and error exactly what I need to update. Also, it means until Yahoo! fixes the problem everything stored in that account (aka future travel itineraries, groupons, contacts, etc) are gone. GONE. Ugh, the thought of it all kind of makes me ill. I think Yahoo! and Bank of America may be in cahoots.
Complaint #3: I miss the skin on my hands and knees
So Garrett and I joined a CrossFit Gym about a month ago (the nasty call from the 24 Hour Fitness Rep ended up being the perfect time to cancel our old gym membership...HA! Take that, bitchy chick.) and really I have loved every minute since, you know aside from the blisters on my hands and the rug burn (Yes, I injured myself doing modified push ups. Awesome). The first month you spend 3 days per week learning technique and most of the lifts and then do an abbreviated workout. Abbreviated. Yet I have pretty much been sore everyday since we joined. So last Friday we finished our course and now I guess we get to join the rest of the folks and do the real workouts, and honestly I feel a little freaked out about it. Sometimes I find the warm ups a challenge (embarrassing as that is to admit) so the thought of an entire 40-60 minute workout is freaking me out a bit. I just went online and looked at our WOD for tonight and HOLY SHIT. Now I have 10 hours to try and figure out how the hell one modifies a handstand push up. OHMYGOD.
I think I will leave it at my top 3 complaints because, really, that is probably enough. I don't want to get on a roll or I will never shut up and I don't need to start this day with a downward spiral in attitude.
What's bugging you this Monday? You know you want to vent.
Showing posts with label rant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rant. Show all posts
October 25, 2010
September 17, 2010
Schooled
Look, Facebook is the devil. I know. I hear it from Garrett all the time, since he refuses to join (even though he is the only person I know who loves just about every single person he went to high school with. For real.) I once read a funny status update that said "Remember when stalking via the internet was weird and creepy? Now it's just what we all do at work on Thursday mornings when we're bored" and I am convinced truer words have never been spoken. I'm sure it won't end well, and at least I'll admit that I sometimes have a Crisis of Douchery when I'm posting about what I'm doing, or what I'm thinking or what I'm cooking -- but, hey! everyone else is doing it, so why the hell not? (Though for the record, no I don't want to jump of that bridge with you. Sorry dude, gotta draw the line somewhere.)
That said, there are moments on Facebook where the brilliance is just too, well...brilliant for me not share. So with that, I present you this Q&A for your reading enjoyment. Maybe you will learn something too!
That right there is the *Magic* of Facebook.
That said, there are moments on Facebook where the brilliance is just too, well...brilliant for me not share. So with that, I present you this Q&A for your reading enjoyment. Maybe you will learn something too!
That right there is the *Magic* of Facebook.
May 26, 2010
Rant*
Not that I need this blog to be all rainbows, puppy dogs, and unicorn farts but somedays I don't blog because the only thing going through my mind when I go to post are long lists of Things That Are Pissing Me Off. I really hate posting back to back ranty-everything-sucks-posts but dude, is Mercury in retrograde or something, because that is just going to have to be the situation. Today is definitely a Vent About Shitty Things In List Form type of day and that list includes, most notably:
*Everyone on the road. OMG, why is everyone on the road an asshole?
*The Weather -- because it's almost June. And it's raining outside. WTF? (But I guess I should see this as a secret blessing seeing as we have made no progress on Operation: Replace the House AC for 900 Million Dollars).
*The fact that everytime I have had the radio on today they are playing that dumb ad about American Idol saying - Tonight we will finally answer the question of (insert Ryan Seacrest's annoying voice) "The next American Idol is..." Because people, this is not a question. It is an unfinished statement. A fragment. A brief pause for philosophical pondering. But! IT IS NOT, in fact, A QUESTION.
*The fact that my coworker is out for the next week and I am taking all of her calls and OMG the phone with Not. Stop. Ringing. (Though I'm glad she's on vacay, because she deserves it!) Which makes it inordinately hard to get anything done at work.
*That very obvious truth that men and women approach communication so differently.
*Oh, and a just a post script piece of advice regarding that last one -- asking a woman if she is going to start her period is a wonderful way to get a swift kick in the nuts. Not so much a vent, but more a warning.
*That fact that the generic rattling going on in my car and the unidentifiable pain in my tooth will both be certainly be fixable; HOWEVER, you and I both know that these types of problems are never cheap.
*That everything costs money.
*And Isn't it weird how a savings account takes ages to grow, yet mere seconds to deplete.
*Which reminds me, after weeks of working out religiously and noticing the difference in my clothes I smugly bought a few new pairs of pants in a smaller size, THAT ARE NOW ALL OF A SUDDEN TIGHT.
*Excuse me while I reach for an ice cream sandwich to dull that pain.
*That every book I have picked up in the last month has been a total bust. (Except the one I'm reading now. Hopefully I'm not jinxing myself.)
*Unidentifiable lights that come on in your car. Mystery pictures that appear to imply your brake lights are out when they are not? WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL ME, MYSTERY SYMBOL?
Seriously, tomorrow I am going to start my day by doing this.
Anything you would like to rant about? C'mon, I feel better already!
*Idea borrowed from the great Angella
*Everyone on the road. OMG, why is everyone on the road an asshole?
*The Weather -- because it's almost June. And it's raining outside. WTF? (But I guess I should see this as a secret blessing seeing as we have made no progress on Operation: Replace the House AC for 900 Million Dollars).
*The fact that everytime I have had the radio on today they are playing that dumb ad about American Idol saying - Tonight we will finally answer the question of (insert Ryan Seacrest's annoying voice) "The next American Idol is..." Because people, this is not a question. It is an unfinished statement. A fragment. A brief pause for philosophical pondering. But! IT IS NOT, in fact, A QUESTION.
*The fact that my coworker is out for the next week and I am taking all of her calls and OMG the phone with Not. Stop. Ringing. (Though I'm glad she's on vacay, because she deserves it!) Which makes it inordinately hard to get anything done at work.
*That very obvious truth that men and women approach communication so differently.
*Oh, and a just a post script piece of advice regarding that last one -- asking a woman if she is going to start her period is a wonderful way to get a swift kick in the nuts. Not so much a vent, but more a warning.
*That fact that the generic rattling going on in my car and the unidentifiable pain in my tooth will both be certainly be fixable; HOWEVER, you and I both know that these types of problems are never cheap.
*That everything costs money.
*And Isn't it weird how a savings account takes ages to grow, yet mere seconds to deplete.
*Which reminds me, after weeks of working out religiously and noticing the difference in my clothes I smugly bought a few new pairs of pants in a smaller size, THAT ARE NOW ALL OF A SUDDEN TIGHT.
*Excuse me while I reach for an ice cream sandwich to dull that pain.
*That every book I have picked up in the last month has been a total bust. (Except the one I'm reading now. Hopefully I'm not jinxing myself.)
*Unidentifiable lights that come on in your car. Mystery pictures that appear to imply your brake lights are out when they are not? WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL ME, MYSTERY SYMBOL?
Seriously, tomorrow I am going to start my day by doing this.
Anything you would like to rant about? C'mon, I feel better already!
*Idea borrowed from the great Angella
May 18, 2010
Some Things You Should Know About Me
Since we’re all friends here I thought today might be a nice time to tell you about a brush with the law I had a little over a decade ago. You see, I consider myself a pretty law abiding citizen these days. I mean, it’s The Law, right? So I try to respect it. I mean this hands-free headset cell phone thing does irritate me and even though Oprah is all over it, I’m still finding it a very bitter pill to swallow, but I respect it. I drive in the mostly no phone zone, and I'm definitely trying, but that is a product of age, I think. Because I'm not sure my 20 year old self was quite so level headed about The Law.
Once during the LA Years I got pulled over for not having a front license plate and subsequently was given a fix it ticket. But “fixing it” was going to cost me somewhere in the realm of $50 and I was sort of pissed at this. That was money that I could have been spending on important things like booze and tacos and stuff. I certainly wasn’t going to spend it on some mounting thingamajig so that I could affix my license plate to it. I didn’t even know where that plate was anyhow, it had been like that since I bought the damn car so why don’t you go give the dealership a fix it ticket, Officer Shut-Your-Face, mmmkay? Also – I was single. And I wasn’t really skilled at the whole Art of Affixing Things. I mean, even if I was willing to spend $50 at an Auto Parts Store (which I wasn’t) what the hell would I do with it when I got home? I was living with a diva and a gay man, there were not a lot of handy people in that house, you know?
So I ignored it, obviously. It seemed like a reasonable thing to do at the time. I had other things to think about and I’ll tell you what, none of those things were license plates. I got a follow up letter about it, and I think I may have possibly put it in my stack of papers to look at later. Maybe it got thrown away, I don’t really know, organization at that time was also not my strong suit. And I think another letter or two may have come in the mail but I didn’t really pay attention that stuff – you know booze, tacos, whatnot – remember? These things were important! Not some silly letter. But then one day a letter came that I did end up paying attention to because it mentioned things like COURT DATES and WARRANTS FOR MY ARREST.
And holy shitballs, that was pretty important. So I went to court.
The judge was actually pretty nice. I was honest (you know, without mentioning the booze or the tacos) and I think he probably thought I was a giant spoiled douchebag that needed to learn a new filing system or something (and I probably was) but he let me go if I was willing to pay the fine and, of course, actually fix it. You are probably not surprised at this point to find out that I drove to court that day (months later!) in a car that STILL didn’t have a front license plate. Man, some days I weep for my former self. Anyway, all was well and good until I got to the little window outside of the courtroom and found out this "little" fine that I would have to pay was something to the tune of $700. Um…do you know how many tacos that can buy?
So -- lesson learned the hard way and all that. I wish I could say that is the only lesson I had to learn the hard way, but alas your 20s last an entire decade, don’t they? Among other things, this whole incident has now given me an irrational fear of the fix-it ticket and its potentially unforeseen financial consequences. You could probably argue that a normal person would have seen those financial consequences coming and so I have nothing to worry about, but I admitted that the fear was irrational, okay? Let me be. Anyway I’ve obviously straightened things out over the last decade and things like that are a distant and laughable memory, but I still have The Fear. And for the last few years I’ve been driving Garrett’s second car and wouldn’t you know it, it’s an old car that was a hand me down from his grandma and when we got it, it didn’t have a front license plate.
“We need to fix that STAT!” I told him the day we got the car, and many days since. (See, at least I learn from my mistakes.) But of course he insisted that I’m being insanely paranoid since he has driven a car for 13 years without a front license plate (apparently they aesthetically offensive to some, who knew?) and never been pulled over, and of course he always reminds me this is Sacramento and not Los Angeles, and Gee Whiz Holly…don’t get yourself all worked up and crazy about it, we will get around to fixing it some point, and ….WELL GEE WHIZ BUCKO, GUESS WHO GOT A CRAZY FIX IT TICKET FOR THEIR EFFING CAR AND THEIR LACK OF AN EFFING FRONG LICENSE PLATE THIS AFTERNOON?
I’ll give you one guess cuz I'm nice like that.
I’m so ri-DONK-ulously irritated that I got the ticket because it totally could have been prevented, but also because – Hey Mr. CHP, aren’t there like REAL criminals you could be going after? The worst part of the whole thing though is that I had to sit, pulled over, looking like a criminal on the side of the road right in front of my super duper dream house and of course they came home while I was sitting there. Of course they did. And so did their neighbors actually. And you know at least one of them thinks I’m some sort of scoundrel now. I wanted to lean out the window shout “Garrett is the scoundrel! The scoundrel that wouldn't fix my license plate!” right as they pulled into their garage, but I didn’t. I just kept mum until the officer wrote out my ticket and then when he handed it over to me I said Thank you. THANK YOU! Gah, I hate myself for saying that. I’m not thankful, yet I still said thank you even though I had sat there for like 10 minutes in the car reminding myself over and over to make sure that I DIDN’T say thank you when he handed it over.
But the silver lining in all of that is that I’m secretly feeling a bit Smuggy McSmuggerson because GUESS WHO WAS TOTALLY RIGHT? Right. Right. Right. I am so Right. And totally NOT paranoid! BOO YAH! And if you haven't already guessed that I made a super-illegal-apologies-to-Oprah, “I Told You So” phone call to Garrett as soon as I pulled away from that curb and out of that CHP's eyesight, well then, you may not know me at all.
Once during the LA Years I got pulled over for not having a front license plate and subsequently was given a fix it ticket. But “fixing it” was going to cost me somewhere in the realm of $50 and I was sort of pissed at this. That was money that I could have been spending on important things like booze and tacos and stuff. I certainly wasn’t going to spend it on some mounting thingamajig so that I could affix my license plate to it. I didn’t even know where that plate was anyhow, it had been like that since I bought the damn car so why don’t you go give the dealership a fix it ticket, Officer Shut-Your-Face, mmmkay? Also – I was single. And I wasn’t really skilled at the whole Art of Affixing Things. I mean, even if I was willing to spend $50 at an Auto Parts Store (which I wasn’t) what the hell would I do with it when I got home? I was living with a diva and a gay man, there were not a lot of handy people in that house, you know?
So I ignored it, obviously. It seemed like a reasonable thing to do at the time. I had other things to think about and I’ll tell you what, none of those things were license plates. I got a follow up letter about it, and I think I may have possibly put it in my stack of papers to look at later. Maybe it got thrown away, I don’t really know, organization at that time was also not my strong suit. And I think another letter or two may have come in the mail but I didn’t really pay attention that stuff – you know booze, tacos, whatnot – remember? These things were important! Not some silly letter. But then one day a letter came that I did end up paying attention to because it mentioned things like COURT DATES and WARRANTS FOR MY ARREST.
And holy shitballs, that was pretty important. So I went to court.
The judge was actually pretty nice. I was honest (you know, without mentioning the booze or the tacos) and I think he probably thought I was a giant spoiled douchebag that needed to learn a new filing system or something (and I probably was) but he let me go if I was willing to pay the fine and, of course, actually fix it. You are probably not surprised at this point to find out that I drove to court that day (months later!) in a car that STILL didn’t have a front license plate. Man, some days I weep for my former self. Anyway, all was well and good until I got to the little window outside of the courtroom and found out this "little" fine that I would have to pay was something to the tune of $700. Um…do you know how many tacos that can buy?
So -- lesson learned the hard way and all that. I wish I could say that is the only lesson I had to learn the hard way, but alas your 20s last an entire decade, don’t they? Among other things, this whole incident has now given me an irrational fear of the fix-it ticket and its potentially unforeseen financial consequences. You could probably argue that a normal person would have seen those financial consequences coming and so I have nothing to worry about, but I admitted that the fear was irrational, okay? Let me be. Anyway I’ve obviously straightened things out over the last decade and things like that are a distant and laughable memory, but I still have The Fear. And for the last few years I’ve been driving Garrett’s second car and wouldn’t you know it, it’s an old car that was a hand me down from his grandma and when we got it, it didn’t have a front license plate.
“We need to fix that STAT!” I told him the day we got the car, and many days since. (See, at least I learn from my mistakes.) But of course he insisted that I’m being insanely paranoid since he has driven a car for 13 years without a front license plate (apparently they aesthetically offensive to some, who knew?) and never been pulled over, and of course he always reminds me this is Sacramento and not Los Angeles, and Gee Whiz Holly…don’t get yourself all worked up and crazy about it, we will get around to fixing it some point, and ….WELL GEE WHIZ BUCKO, GUESS WHO GOT A CRAZY FIX IT TICKET FOR THEIR EFFING CAR AND THEIR LACK OF AN EFFING FRONG LICENSE PLATE THIS AFTERNOON?
I’ll give you one guess cuz I'm nice like that.
I’m so ri-DONK-ulously irritated that I got the ticket because it totally could have been prevented, but also because – Hey Mr. CHP, aren’t there like REAL criminals you could be going after? The worst part of the whole thing though is that I had to sit, pulled over, looking like a criminal on the side of the road right in front of my super duper dream house and of course they came home while I was sitting there. Of course they did. And so did their neighbors actually. And you know at least one of them thinks I’m some sort of scoundrel now. I wanted to lean out the window shout “Garrett is the scoundrel! The scoundrel that wouldn't fix my license plate!” right as they pulled into their garage, but I didn’t. I just kept mum until the officer wrote out my ticket and then when he handed it over to me I said Thank you. THANK YOU! Gah, I hate myself for saying that. I’m not thankful, yet I still said thank you even though I had sat there for like 10 minutes in the car reminding myself over and over to make sure that I DIDN’T say thank you when he handed it over.
But the silver lining in all of that is that I’m secretly feeling a bit Smuggy McSmuggerson because GUESS WHO WAS TOTALLY RIGHT? Right. Right. Right. I am so Right. And totally NOT paranoid! BOO YAH! And if you haven't already guessed that I made a super-illegal-apologies-to-Oprah, “I Told You So” phone call to Garrett as soon as I pulled away from that curb and out of that CHP's eyesight, well then, you may not know me at all.
January 27, 2010
Baby-Crazy
Listen, I believe the children are our future and all that crap.
I do. I really do.
I say this, even though when I met Garrett I wasn't sure I wanted kids. And frankly I was pretty forward about that up front because:
1) I knew our relationship was serious and
2) Since I was 27 when we met and at that point I still didn't have that..."Yay! Babies!" kind of excitement up inside me I thought he deserved to know.
"You will want it someday when you realize what a great mom you will be..." he assured me. (Okay, seriously that is cute now that I think about it. He was only 24!)
"When you meet the right person you will want children..." My Mom said. Sure Mom, whatever.
And lo and behold, they were both totally right! (JERKS.) Four years later, although I am definitely not ready yet, I CAN'T WAIT until Garrett and I start a family. I can't think of anything cooler than having a baby with this man. Kids? Bring 'em on!
HOWEVER....
Can I digress just a minute and say, what the fuck is up with women having babies and then flushing their entire identities down the toilet? Man, this totally irks me. And do you know what makes me so hyper-aware of this phenomenon?
Facebook.
I have so many girlfriends on Facebook who at one time were, you know, good friends -- meaning we had something in common, shared an interest, enjoyed each other's company, liked to discuss our opinions -- and now? They have distilled their personalities down to one liner status updates that only surround being a mom. And that's it. Nothing else.
Who they were before kids? Finito.
What they think about the tragedy in Haiti? Unimportant compared to their little baby-waby!
Whether Heidi Montag has gone off the deep end? Who's Heidi Montag? I'm too busy watching Backyardigans.
It's all about who their kids are, what their kids are doing, what their kids are thinking. And AY YAY YAY people, it makes me kind of scared. If I went by Facebook, now that I have finally made the decision that I want to have a baby, my life is going to turn into Invasion of the Mommy Snatchers!
And oh my god, No! I refuse to let this be my fate.
Now let me interject real quick before any of you start throwing tomatoes at me -- luckily, I know some very cool moms out there who are having kids and talking about it in a totally non-obnoxious way. And thank god! Because I don't know what I'd do if their weren't some inspiring role models out there who are loving the heck out of motherhood while hanging on to their own identity.
Also, I'm not asking for an all out Facebook Gag Order about the kidlets because frankly, if you are my friend, I probably like you and your kids, so even someone with a cold black heart like mine does still enjoy the occasional update. I am smart enough to know that as a parent, having children becomes an incredibly significant part of your life, and one that you are (hopefully) excited to talk about and I dig that. I guess what I'm saying is, must it be the only thing to define you? Because seriously, YOU ARE FREAKING MY REPRODUCTIVE ORGANS THE EFF OUT!!!!!!
Please, please, please tell me that parenthood isn't doomed to be so one-dimensional dear readers-- because according to Facebook, I am doomed!
Who do you know that is living an inspiring life while still being a good mother -- please tell me, I'm dying to know.
I do. I really do.
I say this, even though when I met Garrett I wasn't sure I wanted kids. And frankly I was pretty forward about that up front because:
1) I knew our relationship was serious and
2) Since I was 27 when we met and at that point I still didn't have that..."Yay! Babies!" kind of excitement up inside me I thought he deserved to know.
"You will want it someday when you realize what a great mom you will be..." he assured me. (Okay, seriously that is cute now that I think about it. He was only 24!)
"When you meet the right person you will want children..." My Mom said. Sure Mom, whatever.
And lo and behold, they were both totally right! (JERKS.) Four years later, although I am definitely not ready yet, I CAN'T WAIT until Garrett and I start a family. I can't think of anything cooler than having a baby with this man. Kids? Bring 'em on!
HOWEVER....
Can I digress just a minute and say, what the fuck is up with women having babies and then flushing their entire identities down the toilet? Man, this totally irks me. And do you know what makes me so hyper-aware of this phenomenon?
Facebook.
I have so many girlfriends on Facebook who at one time were, you know, good friends -- meaning we had something in common, shared an interest, enjoyed each other's company, liked to discuss our opinions -- and now? They have distilled their personalities down to one liner status updates that only surround being a mom. And that's it. Nothing else.
Who they were before kids? Finito.
What they think about the tragedy in Haiti? Unimportant compared to their little baby-waby!
Whether Heidi Montag has gone off the deep end? Who's Heidi Montag? I'm too busy watching Backyardigans.
It's all about who their kids are, what their kids are doing, what their kids are thinking. And AY YAY YAY people, it makes me kind of scared. If I went by Facebook, now that I have finally made the decision that I want to have a baby, my life is going to turn into Invasion of the Mommy Snatchers!
And oh my god, No! I refuse to let this be my fate.
Now let me interject real quick before any of you start throwing tomatoes at me -- luckily, I know some very cool moms out there who are having kids and talking about it in a totally non-obnoxious way. And thank god! Because I don't know what I'd do if their weren't some inspiring role models out there who are loving the heck out of motherhood while hanging on to their own identity.
Also, I'm not asking for an all out Facebook Gag Order about the kidlets because frankly, if you are my friend, I probably like you and your kids, so even someone with a cold black heart like mine does still enjoy the occasional update. I am smart enough to know that as a parent, having children becomes an incredibly significant part of your life, and one that you are (hopefully) excited to talk about and I dig that. I guess what I'm saying is, must it be the only thing to define you? Because seriously, YOU ARE FREAKING MY REPRODUCTIVE ORGANS THE EFF OUT!!!!!!
Please, please, please tell me that parenthood isn't doomed to be so one-dimensional dear readers-- because according to Facebook, I am doomed!
Who do you know that is living an inspiring life while still being a good mother -- please tell me, I'm dying to know.
December 16, 2009
Check Your Head, Crazypants Website
I had to order new checks today (and honestly I don't even know why I ordered them because what on earth do I even use checks for these days) so I went online to some dumb website and picked out the least offensive, cheapest checks possible and proceeded to try and checkout. And no they didn't have Disney Characters on them, or Anne Geddes Babies, or Girls Washing Their Hair, or whatever other shit they were trying to charge me $30 for. They were just checks. To write on. If I pay things. I do not consider checks part of my "Personal Brand" as it were.
So after declining the "prevent check fraud" option like 4 separate times in which I had to keep manually clicking on a radio button that said something totally inflammatory like "Yes, that's right I don't care about check fraud, crazies please come get me and my money" --it was finally time to choose a shipping option. Quick sidebar: I am not sure that your stupid watermark for $3 per box is really going to prevent fraud anyway, and even if it does, I would rather spend that money on my stupid credit check every month to make sure no one is stealing my freakin identity, OK? Jesus Crimony, Batman! Fighting crime these days is so exhausting! So anyway, shipping options...The options included a $6.95 standard shipping charge for a 7-9 business day arrival (for my $9 checks that probably weigh half a pound, but whatevs) or an "overnight" option that I could select for $22.95 which meant my checks would arrive in, oh...FOUR TO SEVEN DAYS.
I'm sorry, what? I thought this shit was overnight. If I'm going to pay twice the price of the actual product I am purchasing, JUST TO SHIP IT "OVERNIGHT", I want that shit on my counter top tomorrow morning, preferably pouring me a cup of piping hot cup of coffee and making me an friggin omelet.
So yeah, I chose the regular shipping option, and I'll probably get my checks a year from now -- but I guess the upside is that's probably the next time I will need to use one, so I've got that going for me.
So after declining the "prevent check fraud" option like 4 separate times in which I had to keep manually clicking on a radio button that said something totally inflammatory like "Yes, that's right I don't care about check fraud, crazies please come get me and my money" --it was finally time to choose a shipping option. Quick sidebar: I am not sure that your stupid watermark for $3 per box is really going to prevent fraud anyway, and even if it does, I would rather spend that money on my stupid credit check every month to make sure no one is stealing my freakin identity, OK? Jesus Crimony, Batman! Fighting crime these days is so exhausting! So anyway, shipping options...The options included a $6.95 standard shipping charge for a 7-9 business day arrival (for my $9 checks that probably weigh half a pound, but whatevs) or an "overnight" option that I could select for $22.95 which meant my checks would arrive in, oh...FOUR TO SEVEN DAYS.
I'm sorry, what? I thought this shit was overnight. If I'm going to pay twice the price of the actual product I am purchasing, JUST TO SHIP IT "OVERNIGHT", I want that shit on my counter top tomorrow morning, preferably pouring me a cup of piping hot cup of coffee and making me an friggin omelet.
So yeah, I chose the regular shipping option, and I'll probably get my checks a year from now -- but I guess the upside is that's probably the next time I will need to use one, so I've got that going for me.
December 07, 2009
Supermarket Weep
You know what household task I really despise?
Grocery Shopping.
And mostly because I do it at awful, awful times such as, you know, Monday thru Friday right about 5pm or on Sundays. And freaking EVERYBODY AND THEIR MOTHER goes grocery shopping on Sundays. And don't even get me started about going to Costco on Sunday and keeping my sanity. Not Gonna Happen. Especially not when you roll up to Costco and there is a big yellow bus outside which you later find out is carrying the entire population of a local Home for the Blind. But that, my friends, is another story.
So yesterday, I'm trying all day to gear myself up to go fight the masses at the grocery store. I know the produce section will be raked, the aisles will be packed, and the bread will not be hot. Oooh, hot bread? That is one of the only benefits of hitting up the store on the way home from work on a weeknight. The entire place smells like a San Francisco Sourdough bread bowl, which is like my own personal kryptonite. Can't. Leave. Store. Without. Bread. Anyway, so I'm gearing up for a Sunday grocery Bonanza Of FAIL and I get this brilliant idea: I will go to Whole Foods! It's right around the corner and it will make the task at hand so much more fun.
You see, I love Whole Foods. I love their entire produce department, the bulk section gets me all giddy, and pretty much everyone in my life knows I want to make out with the cheese section. Don't even get me started on the Health & Beauty Section. Last night I almost bought a Bucky on impulse (our heater is broken you all and it is COLD in our house -- wah wah). But yes, you read that right, I almost made a $39 IMPULSE BUY. I have no control in that store. NO CONTROL. Going there is like my own personal culinary Disneyland and the problem is that I usually leave there with about $100 of groceries that fit into two bags. And that is mostly because the courtesy clerk is trying to be polite by bagging up my enormous jug of 100% Organic Sonoma County Apple Cider in a separate bag all alone, so as to not crush the delicate rosemary crackers to go with my $15 sliver of Emmentaler in the other bag. God Whole Foods turns me into such a yuppie douchebag, but I just love it! And it just makes the whole process of grocery shopping that much more enjoyable. And frankly, I rationalize it in my head because I usually shop at Raley's and shopping at Raley's instead of Whole Foods to save money is like slumming it in a Lamborghini because that Bentley is just so overpriced that it's gross, God.
So the point of this story (THE POINT!) is that I went to Whole Foods last night to pick up some groceries, I did the entire store A to Z and loved every minute of it -- picking up some sundry items like pumpkin spice soy milk for my coffee (YUM!), greek yogurt, cayenne pepper hummus for our lunches this week, and an enormous bunch of kale that they were practically giving away for 69 cents among other things -- and I was all excited about all my various purchases until I got up this morning. When I opened up the hummus to throw in our lunches I got a pretty nasty whiff, but ya know, it was "Probiotic Hummus" (I know) so I thought to myself, maybe it's a bit more tart than your regular hummus -- I dig. Until I looked at the date on the side of the container -- Use by November 9, 2009.
HUH?
So then I checked our yogurts. And one of those had a funky date. Oh, and then my head exploded. And man was that a bitch to clean up at 7am before I had even had a cup of coffee (the pumpkin spice soy was fine, btw).
WHAT THE HELL, WHOLE FOODS?
And this is not the first time this has happened. The last time I was there I picked up this basil cheese spread because we were having some last minute guests over and even though the date was just fine, the entire container was crawling with mold. I didn't return the cheese because it was kind of a pain, and then I sort of forgot about it in the back of the frigde (science project!), and after my years spent in retail where people came in complaining and returning items for the most RIDICULOUS reasons, I'm sort of hardwired against the whole situation unless it's extreme -- but honestly? November 9th? I think it's about time these transgressions finally get noted.
I'm so annoyed to get home with a weeks worth of groceries just to have to head back in to the belly of the beast at about 5pm tonight!
Grocery Shopping.
And mostly because I do it at awful, awful times such as, you know, Monday thru Friday right about 5pm or on Sundays. And freaking EVERYBODY AND THEIR MOTHER goes grocery shopping on Sundays. And don't even get me started about going to Costco on Sunday and keeping my sanity. Not Gonna Happen. Especially not when you roll up to Costco and there is a big yellow bus outside which you later find out is carrying the entire population of a local Home for the Blind. But that, my friends, is another story.
So yesterday, I'm trying all day to gear myself up to go fight the masses at the grocery store. I know the produce section will be raked, the aisles will be packed, and the bread will not be hot. Oooh, hot bread? That is one of the only benefits of hitting up the store on the way home from work on a weeknight. The entire place smells like a San Francisco Sourdough bread bowl, which is like my own personal kryptonite. Can't. Leave. Store. Without. Bread. Anyway, so I'm gearing up for a Sunday grocery Bonanza Of FAIL and I get this brilliant idea: I will go to Whole Foods! It's right around the corner and it will make the task at hand so much more fun.
You see, I love Whole Foods. I love their entire produce department, the bulk section gets me all giddy, and pretty much everyone in my life knows I want to make out with the cheese section. Don't even get me started on the Health & Beauty Section. Last night I almost bought a Bucky on impulse (our heater is broken you all and it is COLD in our house -- wah wah). But yes, you read that right, I almost made a $39 IMPULSE BUY. I have no control in that store. NO CONTROL. Going there is like my own personal culinary Disneyland and the problem is that I usually leave there with about $100 of groceries that fit into two bags. And that is mostly because the courtesy clerk is trying to be polite by bagging up my enormous jug of 100% Organic Sonoma County Apple Cider in a separate bag all alone, so as to not crush the delicate rosemary crackers to go with my $15 sliver of Emmentaler in the other bag. God Whole Foods turns me into such a yuppie douchebag, but I just love it! And it just makes the whole process of grocery shopping that much more enjoyable. And frankly, I rationalize it in my head because I usually shop at Raley's and shopping at Raley's instead of Whole Foods to save money is like slumming it in a Lamborghini because that Bentley is just so overpriced that it's gross, God.
So the point of this story (THE POINT!) is that I went to Whole Foods last night to pick up some groceries, I did the entire store A to Z and loved every minute of it -- picking up some sundry items like pumpkin spice soy milk for my coffee (YUM!), greek yogurt, cayenne pepper hummus for our lunches this week, and an enormous bunch of kale that they were practically giving away for 69 cents among other things -- and I was all excited about all my various purchases until I got up this morning. When I opened up the hummus to throw in our lunches I got a pretty nasty whiff, but ya know, it was "Probiotic Hummus" (I know) so I thought to myself, maybe it's a bit more tart than your regular hummus -- I dig. Until I looked at the date on the side of the container -- Use by November 9, 2009.
HUH?
So then I checked our yogurts. And one of those had a funky date. Oh, and then my head exploded. And man was that a bitch to clean up at 7am before I had even had a cup of coffee (the pumpkin spice soy was fine, btw).
WHAT THE HELL, WHOLE FOODS?
And this is not the first time this has happened. The last time I was there I picked up this basil cheese spread because we were having some last minute guests over and even though the date was just fine, the entire container was crawling with mold. I didn't return the cheese because it was kind of a pain, and then I sort of forgot about it in the back of the frigde (science project!), and after my years spent in retail where people came in complaining and returning items for the most RIDICULOUS reasons, I'm sort of hardwired against the whole situation unless it's extreme -- but honestly? November 9th? I think it's about time these transgressions finally get noted.
I'm so annoyed to get home with a weeks worth of groceries just to have to head back in to the belly of the beast at about 5pm tonight!
October 07, 2007
Dear Internet,
Why has no one ever invented a suitcase that unpacks itself?
And while I'm at it, why is it that I have to pack the same amount of toiletries to go out of town for one night as I do for 7 nights?
It just doesn't seem right to me.
XOXO
Holly
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
LinkWithin
