Life Under Construction

Posts Tagged ‘things I hate’

I’m too angry and irritated to love anything at the moment.

Except my little brother, who is going to scan those pictures of me when he gets out of work.

I’ve been trying to get in touch with someone from Unemployment for about a month now (because I have to speak to an actual person to find out why).  AN EFFING MONTH.  I was so discouraged that I couldn’t get a hold of anyone that I gave up for a while.  So I called again yesterday and got a recording saying that they were closed Wed and Thu, so I’ve been calling at least once a minute for the last 45 minutes.  And all I’m getting is a busy signal.

So I’m getting zero funds.  Since the beginning of January.  ZERO FUNDS.  I have no income.  It’s driving me crazy.

I HATE UNEMPLOYMENT.

I MISS MY JOB.

BOTH OF THOSE THINGS A VERY LOT.

I really really miss my job.  I can’t even tell you how much.  I’d even take the frustrations again if it meant I could be doing what I was doing where I was doing it.

And now I cry.

Happy freaking Friday, everybody.

It’s what I feel for the BlackBerry.

I’m blaming Sarah, because she’s been talking about getting a new cell phone for a while now and when I said “Maybe I’ll get a new cell phone too!” she said “You can give your old one to Daddy!”.  Well… that sealed the deal.  If I can do something nice for my dad, I’m on board.

That afternoon I drove on over to the AT&T store and bought a new BlackBerry Curve 8520.  Everyone I know that owns a BlackBerry LOVES it, so I was destined to love it as well.  Or so I thought…

It wasn’t even in my possession for 24 hours and still I hate it more than I hate all the people I dislike in the world put together.  INCLUDING TONI BRAXTON.

I hated the texting.
I hated the five billion icons in the menu.
I hated how hard it was to change settings.
I hated how small it felt on my face when I was talking on it.
I hated the mobile web.
I hated the FaceBook app.
I couldn’t find a single thing about it that I liked.

I was freaking out.

Less than five hours after owning it I wanted to smash it with a hammer and watch shards of it scatter all over my room.  I couldn’t get to sleep that night because of how much I hated it.  I was so anxious about it.  Did I want an iPhone instead?  Did I really hate the iPhone when I had it?  Rugby or iPhone?  What if they didn’t have a Samsung Rugby when I went to return the BlackBerry?  What if they had them, but only in yellow?  I hate the yellow!  I wanted the black!  Would I rather keep the BlackBerry than get a yellow Rugby?  If I had to get a yellow one, would my dad trade me my old phone back to me for the new one?

‘Separation anxiety’, anyone?

Of course all that worrying was pointless (it often is, after the fact).  I drove to Groton because it was the closest place with a black Rugby (I wasn’t about to wait 3 more days for them to get one delivered in town), and I didn’t like the new one either so I went to my dad’s and traded the new one for the old one.  And now we’re all happy.  Daddy has a brand new phone, I have my beloved Rugby back, the BlackBerry is forever (FOREVER) gone from my life, and no one has to listen to me complain about it anymore.

I had planned to share something else with you today, but after the BlackBerry incident I felt I needed to get that out of my system first.

How was your weekend?
What kind of phone do you have?
Does anything keep you up at night?

Whenever anyone asks me “How’s married life treating you?” or something to that effect – no matter how sincere or cute or old they are – I am immediately filled with the urge to break something.

Like their face.

Instead though, because somehow I can contain my violent desire to bash their faces in with my fist, I just reply “I wouldn’t know.  Because my husband is thousands of miles away.  And thank you for reminding me. <insert disgusted eye roll here> How thoughtful of you.  No, seriously.  This was probably the only minute that I’ve ever managed to not think about it, so thank you for reminding me.”

I wish people would think before they speak.  Honestly.  I might be married, but I’m not living with my husband.  I don’t even get to SEE my husband.  So do be a bit smarter?  Please?  Learn how to think before you ask something so stupid?  Because sooner or later, if people keep asking me how it feels to be married, I am going to snap.

I freaking hate when people say “Money is the root of all evil”.  It makes me want to punch a body in the face.

Seriously.  Do you even know what it means when you say that?

Money is a product of man’s ability to think and trade, to produce.  By saying that money is the root of all evil, you’re saying that man’s ability to create and produce is evil; that his logic and his reasoning abilities and his competence are evil.

If you hate what money does to people who are power hungry or money hungry, the fault lies with THAT PERSON OR PERSONS.  Not mankind as a whole.

Please stop being stupid if you ever want anyone to take you seriously.  Stupid people are more insulting to the human race than any amount of money hungry people.  At least money hungry people appreciate the value of money, and therefor appreciate man’s thinking brain.

/rant

“So you think that money is the root of all evil?” said Francisco d’Anconia.  “Have you ever asked what is the root of money? Money is a tool of exchange, which can’t exist unless there are goods produced and men able to produce them. Money is the material shape of the prinicple that men who wish to deal with one another must deal by trade and give value for value. Money is not the tool of moochers, who claim your product by tears, or of the looters, who take it from you by force. Money is made possible only by the men who produce. Is this what you consider evil?” – Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand

…

Alright, now that I’ve gotten THAT out of my system… I’ve got a formspring!  Lookie in my sidebar –>.  You can ask me kestions™ anonymously or by logging into formspring.  It r awesome sauce for realz.

I might start vlogging.  Like on a regular basis.  Maybe once a week or something.  I love YouTube.  I love the YouTube community and the groups of people you find all over the place.  I think I’ll try it and see how it goes.  You know… after Christmas… when I have a real camera (because my web cam sucks so bad and is v dumb).

I want pie.

Do you have a formspring.me account?
What’s one thing that really makes your blood boil?
Do you YouTube?

…

Gwen Bell’s Best of 2009 Challenge:
December 14 Rush. When did you get your best rush of the year?

Definitely singing at karaoke two weeks ago.  I was shaking from the anxiety of it, but it was still so fun!

I got this idea from Shauna’s blog a couple weeks ago and thought I’d do the same thing.  You know, only with my things instead of hers, though hers are much funnier and more interesting.

THINGS

• I do not like pets.  I do not want to own pets of any kind.  Not dogs or cats, nothing with fur or scales.  Nothing that requires regular care but won’t outlive me.  Children = yes plz.  Pets = big fat no.
• My mother told me that she wanted a boy, and if I had been a boy my name as going to be Christopher.
• She also told me once that I was an accident, and that before I was born she always had at least $60 in her pocket on any given day of the week.  In light of this new information (given to me at some point before my mother got pregnant with my brother and after my parent’s had gotten married), I realized that my parents probably got married because they had two kids together and it seemed the right thing to do at the time.
• When I was in the first grade, my first crush was on a boy in my class.  I loved dinosaurs and I used to take books on dinosaurs out of the library every week.  When I found out he liked them too, I traced a picture of the Tyrannosaurus Rex out of one of the books and gave it to him.  He didn’t like me back and thought I was weird.
• When The Little Mermaid first came out, I wanted to marry Prince Eric, and I pretended to be Ariel in the bath tub.  Sometimes I still pretend I’m Ariel in the swimming pool.  I guess I’m still weird.
• My first high school crush was on a gay boy.
• So was my second.
• In high school I was in the Drama club.  I performed in Cabaret, Pippin, Charlotte’s Web, Go Ask Alice, and a few others.  For me it was the best part of high school, making friends, learning lines (what little lines I had), wearing costumes (except for that horrible real fur coat I had to wear in Auntie Mame…), and being part of something.  I loved the way my heart pounded, the rush of getting it just right.  Oddly enough, these days I get stage fright whenever someone asks me a question I’m not prepared for.  I like to rehearse everything in my head before it happens.
• My right leg is longer than my left leg and my right hip is higher than my left one is, probably to compensate.
• I used to pick my nose and eat it.  For a long time.  That was probably the toughest habit to break ever, and so I compromised with myself.  I still pick my nose, I just don’t eat it.  And don’t even pretend like you’ve never picked your nose before.
• I smell everything.
• I’m terribly afraid of alligators.  Like… really afraid.  Irrationally afraid.  I live in Rhode Island, where the only alligators you’ll find are in the zoo, and they might not even be there (I haven’t gone since I was in elementary school).  Sometimes I think they’re out to get me, alligators, even when I’m in broad daylight and there’s no sign of water anywhere around and nothing for them to hide behind.  Everything about them frightens me, but at the same time I think they’re beautiful and I’m fascinated by them.
• I’m afraid of the ocean.
• Growing up, I never knew what I wanted to be.  As a small child I wanted to be normal things, like a paleontologist (the dinosaur thing, remember?), or a singer (I loved Madonna), or a back-yard-in-the-mud-maze-builder.  But once I hit the 2nd grade I developed this lazy view of life, and my aspirations were (and still are most of the time) very short term.  Pass a test, sleep through the night, make it through the day without crying.  Now, as a small adult (lolz), I still don’t know what I want to be… but if ‘happy’ is an acceptable answer, then I want to be happy.
• I’m extremely sensitive and easily offended, but not about the kinds of things people usually get upset about.  It usually comes out of left field, even for me.  I can go from passive to the super defensive OMGATTACKMODERIGHTNOWZLOOKOUT!11! in about .0000001 seconds.  Srsly.
• I read most of my own blogs about ten (thousand) times after I post them.  I love my own writing.  It’s kind of sick, really.  This one in particular?  I’ve probably read it more like a hundred (million) times.  And counting.
• I. Hate. Ground. Beef.  It grosses me out.  Therefor I do not eat things like lasagna or Hamburger Helper or meatloaf or meatballs or burgers.

…

Gwen Bell’s Best of 2009 Challenge:
December 1 Trip. What was your best trip in 2009?

Best trip this year was the first trip down to Mississippi.  I got to go to Drew’s wedding and meet his wife, I got to spend time with Walter for the first time in almost 3 years, and I wore a dress or skirt almost every day that trip.

I really hate comment approval on blogs.  Like… seriously hate it.  As much as I hate Blogger.

I like MYSPACE as a blogging platform more than Blogger.  And I don’t even log into Myspace anymore.

If you’re using Blogger there’s only a very small chance I’ll comment on your blog.  Read it?  Yes.  Comment?  Not so much (unless you’re Maven, in which case I always comment because I willingly wade in the world of Blogger Hell every day just to read what she has to say).  And I certainly don’t check back to see if you’ve replied to my comment unless I get email notification that you did.  Which, if you’re using Blogger, doesn’t happen.

But back to comment moderation:  If you don’t like someone’s comment, you can just delete it.  And if you already have a captcha gadget installed, you don’t really need to moderate do you?  There’s something satisfying about commenting on someone’s blog and seeing instant results.  Poof, there it is!  It’s much the same as using the ‘publish’ button on your blog and seeing your own work in print for everyone else to read.

If I can’t see my comment after I post it, I get annoyed with your blog.  I will still read it, but I won’t comment as often (or ever).  And if I don’t get email notification of your reply when and if you post a reply to my comment, I don’t care about your reply.  It’s that simple.  It may sound smug and self-important of me, but it’s not.  If you’re putting yourself out there to be read, you should make it easy for the people who are interested.  Not make it harder.

I’m a big fan of reader participation.  If you’ve commented on my blog in the past, you know I respond to it every time.  I don’t see how anyone can expect all their readers to comment when they don’t comment back or show any interest in what they have to say.

I’d just like to throw out there that WordPress comes with awesome options for spam tracking and identifying so that you don’t HAVE to moderate your comments.  It moderates for you.  And if you’re REALLY paranoid about comments?  WordPress ALSO has this option where the first time a person comments on your blog requires authorization, and after that they can comment whenever without moderation.

I just don’t understand why, with a better option out there, anyone would pick Blogger over WordPress.

Or comment moderation.

That’s all for today.

pee ess  -  I don’t even get paid for my love of WordPress.  I should.

pee pee ess  -  If you’re working with a WordPress platform, you should have WP Thread Comment installed and enabled.  That is, if you care whether or not your readers know you replied to their comment.  If not, why bother?  There are better things I can do with my time than sit and press F5 a million times a day just to see if you’ve deigned to reply when you don’t even care enough to let me know you’ve responded.

I swear I spent most of today in a state of simmering rage.

I hated my job.  I hated my coworkers.  I hated myself.  I hated my sister’s stupid can opener (in fact, I still hate it, the lousy POS).  I hate the phone every time it rings because somebody wants something… every time.  I hated the cleaning ladies who keep leaving earlier and earlier leaving me to lock up the building which in the nearly 3 years I’ve been here I’ve NEVER HAD TO DO.  I hate my stupid new work computer because the audio skips when I’m watching a video or listening to an audio file.

I wanted to put my fist through the window.  I wanted to break my computer monitors with the lousy POS non-functioning can opener.  I wanted to quit.  I wanted to scream.  I wanted to beat the crap outta somebody.

Now not only am I pissed off, I’m exhausted on top of it.  I want to go to bed, but I feel like I’ve got too much pent up anger inside to let me go to sleep.  I’m stressed out.  STRESSED OUT.  Everything is stressing me out.  NOTHING is making me feel good.  I want to cry 100% of the time.  And I’m not even PMSing!  I want to break my fist on something hard, but I’m not so stupid to actually do it.  It’ll only make me angrier, and that makes me angrier.

How come you can’t be right and happy?  Why is it that most times you can only be one or the other?  How the eff does that make any sense what so ever?  What’s the point in life if you can’t be happy.  And what’s the point if you’re always giving in?  I just don’t get it.  I like being right.  And I like being happy.  Having to choose one or the other makes me angry.

I don’t have any help with anything.  I don’t even know all I need help with, I just know I’m not getting it from anyone.  Breaking down and crying isn’t going to fix anything, and I’m angry that my body is forcing me so hard to do it.  I HATE crying.  It feels stupid.  I’m so angry and humiliated because of my anger.  Like I want to break things.

I wish there were words for how pissed off I am.  And I don’t even know why I’m so angry.  I guess it’s everything.  Everything that’s been upsetting me for months just building up and I can’t take it anymore.

I hate everything.  The only thing I don’t hate right now is Doogie Howser.  Eff the rest of the world for the rest of the night.

I spent about an hour last night in an anxious fit about my financial situation, and not just right now either, but also the coming year or so.  You see, I’m going to be getting laid off later on this year, so anything that has to do with money is sort of a touchy subject for me at the moment.  I love Courtni so much for taking the time not only to help me calm down, but also to help me figure out just what I’m going to do.  In the middle of the night.  Thank you Courtni!

But I still couldn’t sleep.  I was wide awake.

Then I spent almost two hours on Target.com looking at home goods to put in my gift registry.

Then I started writing ideas down for this year’s NaNoWriMo novel.

Then I designed this new blog theme.

Then updated Courtni’s theme.

Debated whether or not I wanted to draw a picture for Walter, the debate being settled by the fact that I’m lazy and didn’t want to stand up to get my crayons.

I didn’t get much sleep.

Some things I hate:

• Tuesdays
• litter boxes
• pets that shed
• pretty much pets of any kind
• not being tired at night
• waking up late on a workday
• being late for life
• being too tired to function properly

I just woke up (most of this blog was written last night in preparation of my crummy mood!).  It’s 2 hours later than I normally get out of bed.  I’m running late for getting ready, and while I’ll make it to work on time I’ll feel rushed and panicked.  There is no end.  I hate you, Stress.  I hate you, Anxiety.  FML.

One happy thought: I made reservations for Lauren and I for next weekend.  The NYC meetup is going to rock!  Only 10 more days and we’ll be hanging out with the likes of Katie Dot Com, Phampants, Maxie, and DCPrincess.  And lots more people that I don’t know.

I love WordPress.  It’s easy, and customizable.

I hate Blogger.  I hate it with a passion.  The main reason being that you can’t reply directly to other people’s comments.

With WordPress, there’s this plugin you can install (and everyone who has WP should install it) called WP Thread Comment that allows you to directly comment on other people’s comments, thus allowing comment conversations that don’t involve editing a comment to put your .02¢ in.

It also sends emails when a comment is directly responded to, instead of having to receive emails that tell you every time any Joe Shmoe posts a comment thereafter on the blog you commented on.

It makes me sad when I want to comment on blogs I read on Blogger (and there are a lot of them) because I know I won’t get email notification if my comment gets responded to directly… because it can’t be responded to directly.  ]:

Also, when you type out your blog and save it, it automatically changes your format so that all sentences are only separated by one space instead of the two you typed!!!!!

/rant

UPDATE!!!!!

For anyone wanting to switch, these links might help!

http://www.google.com/search?source=ig&hl=en&rlz=1G1GGLQ_ENUS307&=&q=switching+from+blogger+to+wordpress&btnG=Google+Search&aq=0&oq=switching+from+blogger+to+wor