For something so natural for humans to do, we sure do suck at it.
The thing that really pisses me off is when you’ve got some slow little fart in front of you who decides that he needs to walk RIGHT IN THE CENTER OF THE DAMN SIDEWALK and is completely oblivious (usually due to a phone) to everything around him.
Like, I’m making all sorts of noise behind the guy to warn him that he’s not the only one on the sidewalk and is certainly not one of the faster ones, and he’s just “duurrrrr smart phone.”
Then I end up finally having to walk off the side of the sidewalk to pass him, and he gives me the dirtiest little “how dare you” look.
Dude. Seriously. It’s not my fault you’re an idiot. MOVE TO THE SIDE OF THE SIDEWALK IF YOU’RE GOING TO WALK AT THE PACE OF A COMATOSE SNAIL.
This is how I feel when I go to pass these types of walkers.
(Yes, I made a .gif from that YouTube video. It’s pretty much my favorite video ever.)
(Sorry, I’m in an incredibly bad mood for no other reason than people don’t shovel their sidewalks. It just kind of tipped me over the edge this afternoon. People are turds.)
People who comment on the eating habits of others drive me up the freaking wall.
Like, it’s okay if you’re good friends with the someone and you’re both okay with the comments, but if you’re acquaintances/friends that aren’t too close/strangers, then it’s like…seriously?
Who even cares, anyway? What business is it of yours? So Person X eats more than you/less than you/rarely/frequently/constantly/late at night/only on odd days of the month/food you’d never touch with a 10-foot pole? Unless you’re legitimately concerned about their health (and even then it can be iffy), don’t comment on it. Because it doesn’t concern you.
Also, some people just don’t like talking about that kind of stuff, so if someone says to them, “why do you [some obnoxious comment about food habits]?” it might make them feel super awkward or embarrassed.
So shut up.
So we got rear-ended this evening by some jackass who decided to flee the scene before we were even able to look up and see the car that did it.
The guy hit us on my side, shattering the back light and bending the right-side frame of the car so that both the trunk and back door no longer open. We think he was trying to change lanes ‘cause he didn’t want to stop in line and nailed us as he peeled out from behind us.
So now we think the car will be totaled, so who knows what’ll happen after that. The worst part is that my mom and I were planning on driving about 30 minutes outside of Tucson tomorrow for a 5k charity race. Obviously that’s not going to happen, which freaking sucks.
Karmic backlash for something, probably. At least neither of us got hurt.
So tonight my mom and I watched the Grammys. Adele, as predicted by many, pretty much took the whole show, winning every award she had been nominated for (I think). CNN.com posted an article about her sweeping success tonight and, unfortunately, opened the article up for comments.
Why “unfortunately”? Here are a few of said comments:
- “Adele is such a fat pig. I hope she has a heart attack.”
- “a fattie that hollers & screams and it’s accepted as music”
- “Oh, dont get us wrong, her singing sucks too. We hate that as well.”
- “its just the sounds of a hefty woman cackling & yelling”
- “british singers used to be great… before you started exporting chubbies”
- “she is hefty & homely hence the 2lbs of makeup caked on her mug”
We all know how I feel about size and sizeism, but putting all that aside—seriously, people? The woman has an amazing voice and you can’t get past her physical appearance? Chill the hell out and appreciate her talent, you jealous plebeians.
Holy freaking crap.
I just want to take a moment to thank the person who decided to take my iPod this morning. You were correct in thinking that I didn’t accidentally leave it on the floor next to my chair in Belief and Reality. I actually left it there for somebody to take, so that they could enjoy all the music I paid for. It’s a good thing it took you less than five minutes to find it and decide to keep it, or else I would have run back from math to retrieve it before you could have enjoyed it.
I hope you like how new it looks. It’s only a couple weeks old. Not a scratch. I also hope you enjoy the engraving on the back: “Happy 21st birthday! Love Mom.” This had no sentimental value at all; I told her to have it engraved so that you would have something to read while you were enjoying my music.
I also hope you like the earbuds. They cost about $30 since they are noise-cancelling with an adjustable volume gauge on the wires. They’re really nice.
There’s a video on there that one of my friends gave me, too. It got erased from my computer, but it’s still on the iPod. I was hoping to transfer it back to my computer later this week, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy an inside joke between my friend and me more than I ever could.
Oh, and one more thing to make your day a little bit easier: if you go down the hallway from that classroom, take a left, and then follow the stairs to the area above the commons, you’ll find the Information Desk for the TLC. That’s where the lost and found is. It’s where people who have found others’ possessions drop them off so that the owners can retrieve what they’ve misplaced. I just thought you’d like to know, in case you ever lose that nice new orange iPod nano, that you can go to that desk and inquire if anyone has returned it there.
Well, that’s all. Have a nice life, and enjoy your new iPod!
(One-ish year later edit: nope, never got it back.)
Once again, I have another squad member who doesn’t give a shit. This is making my last year of marching band substantially less fun. I hope she shapes up and realizes that just because she’s a plug doesn’t mean she can be a slacker. I do not appreciate people making both me and the whole band look bad.
Yes, I dress differently than you. Get over it. I know it’s hard to do, but please don’t automatically judge my character by the way I look. I try to make the effort with you. The only thing you can conclude from the fact that I dress differently from you is—surprise!—the fact that I dress differently from you! Holy shit, you mean not all peoples’ personalities are represented by their clothing?! NO WAY.
So I had this really long blog today, all about how I’ve been feeling slighted by people lately, mostly in subtle yet noticeable ways. But I deleted it a) because I don’t feel I should subject you people to constant bitching like a large majority of bloggers do (despite this being my blog, allowing me to write whatever the heck I want), b) because it was basically this “acknowledge my hurt and feel sorry for me, oh ignorant masses” crap that, looking back on it when reading my blogs later on in the year, I probably wouldn’t be very proud of, and c) a lot of it really shouldn’t be said to spare some peoples’ feelings, despite the fact that I still need to get some things off my chest.
So perhaps there will be a private blog sometime in the future, when I get around to feeling as crappy as I did today. But perhaps not.
Group work is inefficient, boring, irritating, and utterly pointless. Especially when one is forced into a group of pseudo intellectuals and forced to sit and seethe in anger as they get absolutely nothing done. These are people who can easily rattle off dozens of French phrases and draw comparisons between Gandhi and Kafka but who are about as efficient as a sandpaper sled.
They think they’re so far beyond the classes they’re taking that they can just blow off the review questions and sail by with a 150% in the class. Wrong, you morons. You can spout French proverbs all you want, my friends, but will that help you pass a test in English? Obviously not, considering all three of you failed to get A’s on your last tests.
What’s worse is the fact that they look down upon people who have not been exposed to the things they have and therefore don’t know anything about them. Excuse me if Moscow’s public education is not the same as southern California’s, or wherever you prissy rich jackasses are from. If you’re so far above the rest of us, why are you even in college at all? Why can’t you just walk into the Dean’s office and pick up that PhD now? Oh, wait, I know why—you have to actually do WORK to get it!
Let me tell you something—it doesn’t matter if you know French, understand quantum physics, or know your wine. It is the understanding of new knowledge and material pertaining to the class you’re in that makes you smart, not the fact that you can list off all the Presidents and their wives or can recite the Periodic Table as if you had it in front of you. Be efficient. Be productive. Stay on the subject. Don’t apply crap that is not relevant.
And stop looking down on others who may not have had your rich-ass opportunities. Not everyone can afford private tutoring or have parents that will pay off the teachers to get their kids through 8th grade English.
Wait, did I write that last part down?
I have fucking had it with this residence hall and all the people in it (save, maybe, two). For some reason, they all feel it is necessary to keep at least one of their moronic selves in the hallway at all hours of the day, and this person must be ready to stare at anyone who dares enter the hallway. What, is it illegal to walk in the hallways now? They love especially to stare at me, cause I’m “weird” and “quiet.” Well, excuse me if I don’t want to converse with you idiots. From what I’ve heard from your constant screaming and hollering in the hallways at all hours of the night, all your conversations consist of are talking about articles in “People Magazine” and “Cosmo,” trying to dance with really crappy music blaring out for all the world to hear, and people making really stupid, annoying, and repetitive monkey noises. Why this all seems entertaining more than once is far beyond me.
Also, I do not think you have the right to come and bother me in my room when I don’t show up to hall meetings. Fuck your hall meetings. I went to the first one, which was scheduled to last fifteen minutes and ended up lasting three hours, and I’d firmly made up my mind by minute 30 of that meeting that I was not going to participate in meetings that lacked organization, a reasonable clip, and intelligent conversation. Hall meetings, from what I’ve gathered, are optional. You should not—I repeat, should NOT—come to my door every Monday night and ask me to come to the meetings. I won’t. I’m busy, okay? I’ve got better things to do with my time than waste it with you idiots. Unlike you people, I am not here at college to gain friends and to have a blossoming social life. I am here to learn and to get the hell out. So do not get in my way.
To my suitemate: turn the damn radio down, learn how to sing if you’re going to, and stay the fuck out of my room. I know you’ve been in here multiple times when I’ve been at home for the weekend, I have concrete evidence of it, and I am sick of you leaving tracks across my carpet of whatever nasty substances you have coating the floor of your room. You have ABSOLUTELY NO RIGHT to be in here, and if you do it again, I’ll take hold of the situation. You do not want that.
Okay, that’s about it for now. I’m definitely going to try to get into a “quiet hall” next year, cause this is ridiculous. Plus a hall of all girls has way too much estrogen in it to be healthy for anyone.
Watch your back, you egomaniacal hobo.
You know who I’m talking to.
If you don’t, then it’s not you. So don’t freak out.
It amuses me how many people have cell phones–and use them 20 hours per day.
It amuses me how many people wear the same style of clothes.
It amuses me how many people have the same hairstyle and hair coloring and highlights.
It amuses me how many people seem to enjoy letting others see their buttcracks.
It amuses me how many “likes” people seem to get into their conversations.
Oh wait…these things don’t amuse me at all.