Monday: Crash 10am anatomy class that is completely full and the waiting list closed. Try my best to get in. I don't have a plan B if I cannot get into this class...and I REALLY need to get in.
Squeeze in a workout at some point. I drank so much damn beer this weekend that I totally derailed my wedding diet. At some point, I will need to call the various schools to see where the hell my transcripts are. I paid for the damn rush processing this time and still, they're not arriving.
Tuesday: 8am statistics class. No need to crash this one...I'm already in. Glide volunteering in the afternoon. Squeeze into yoga pants and squeeze in another workout. Bug the people who have offered to write me letters of rec to actually write them and submit them.
Wednesday: Crash the very same anatomy class in hopes that a few spots have opened up. Later in the afternoon, crash the lab. Hopefully, my persistence will pay off and the professor will let me in. Either that, or he'll be so annoyed me and let me in anyways. In the evening, DJC and I are meeting with our officiant to start planning out how our wedding ceremony will go. Chinese food will be consumed, no workout will happen.
Thursday: Statistics again. Hitting the gym in the early afternoon. In the evening, head out to SF for a Glide HIV Services dinner/drinkfest. I will try to stay away from the beer.
Friday: Aaaaah, no classes. The only thing on the schedule is a fun meetup with BT and LOTS of delicious tapas here, and then possibly some dancing.
Saturday: Second appointment with my wedding dress, this time with the shoes. Alterations begin, and I re-commit to my diet. Submit my PA application to CASPA. Cross fingers. Pray.
So, as you can see, I'm BUSY. I apologize for the upcoming lack of posting. Hopefully, things will settle down soon. But probably not until after the wedding in October. UGH!
Showing posts with label You're such a whiner. Show all posts
Showing posts with label You're such a whiner. Show all posts
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Quick recap
Lately, there's been a lot going on. Here's a brief rundown so that all five of you are up to speed...
1. I'm currently taking a SUPER intensive six day medical terminology course. Its essentially an entire semester's worth of work in six days. The class is scheduled to start at 9am. In reality, the professor shows up at 9:15 or 9:25ish, and because people know he's always late, most come at 9:30 or 9:40. What this means is that the professor will wait to start class until everyone is present. While we're all waiting, he leaves the classroom. Generally the class starts everyday at about 9:45am. The professor has been teaching this class for nineteen years and he's decided that its best to give us all of the exam questions ahead of time and let us hunt and pick through the textbook for the answers. During the time while we're working, the professor leaves the room again. What this amounts to is A LOT of sitting around and playing around with my cell phone. Anyone who's taken anatomy or physiology in the last decade can answer most of the questions without looking in the textbook, but hang on, there's a catch. He wants the definitions regurgitated VERBATIM from the textbook on the exam. When I heard this, I just shook my head in disbelief. Combine this class with the English professor who wanted papers written *just so*, this has become the summer of non-learning. Laaaaaaame. Only two days left, though.
2. I bought two pairs of jeans yesterday that are both one size smaller than what I usually wear. WOOT! I owe that to the repetition of RPM and all of the other classes I take, and how many freaking calories I burn!
3. Wedding, wedding, wedding! AAAAAH! Its less than three months away! We're feverishly trying to tie up all the loose ends and figure out all the little details that I never thought I'd have to deal with. Its just nuts. But I'm super excited and will hopefully have a little more motivation to stick to my diet when my dress comes in this month. Its gonna be a good time!!
4. PA school applications are due September 1st. I've been slowly chipping away at it, but I haven't even started on my narrative yet and need to still get my letters of recommendation in order. I'm getting a little nervous about this. I don't have a plan B if I don't get in. But I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
5. I've had a MONSTER cold lately and don't really feel like doing a damn thing. Studying, working, anything...its just not getting done. I can't even find enough energy to cough properly sometimes.
6. The gig at Glide's HIV Services is still going really well. We've recently set up a Facebook page to help spread the word about what we're doing there. If you haven't already visited and become a fan, this is my shameless plug and request to do so. And don't forget to suggest it to your friends (especially if they live in SF, and are MSMs, IDUs or trans-folk). Thanks!!!
Ok, I've got to head out and do something today. I think the laundry is the big winner. Ugh.
1. I'm currently taking a SUPER intensive six day medical terminology course. Its essentially an entire semester's worth of work in six days. The class is scheduled to start at 9am. In reality, the professor shows up at 9:15 or 9:25ish, and because people know he's always late, most come at 9:30 or 9:40. What this means is that the professor will wait to start class until everyone is present. While we're all waiting, he leaves the classroom. Generally the class starts everyday at about 9:45am. The professor has been teaching this class for nineteen years and he's decided that its best to give us all of the exam questions ahead of time and let us hunt and pick through the textbook for the answers. During the time while we're working, the professor leaves the room again. What this amounts to is A LOT of sitting around and playing around with my cell phone. Anyone who's taken anatomy or physiology in the last decade can answer most of the questions without looking in the textbook, but hang on, there's a catch. He wants the definitions regurgitated VERBATIM from the textbook on the exam. When I heard this, I just shook my head in disbelief. Combine this class with the English professor who wanted papers written *just so*, this has become the summer of non-learning. Laaaaaaame. Only two days left, though.
2. I bought two pairs of jeans yesterday that are both one size smaller than what I usually wear. WOOT! I owe that to the repetition of RPM and all of the other classes I take, and how many freaking calories I burn!
3. Wedding, wedding, wedding! AAAAAH! Its less than three months away! We're feverishly trying to tie up all the loose ends and figure out all the little details that I never thought I'd have to deal with. Its just nuts. But I'm super excited and will hopefully have a little more motivation to stick to my diet when my dress comes in this month. Its gonna be a good time!!
4. PA school applications are due September 1st. I've been slowly chipping away at it, but I haven't even started on my narrative yet and need to still get my letters of recommendation in order. I'm getting a little nervous about this. I don't have a plan B if I don't get in. But I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
5. I've had a MONSTER cold lately and don't really feel like doing a damn thing. Studying, working, anything...its just not getting done. I can't even find enough energy to cough properly sometimes.
6. The gig at Glide's HIV Services is still going really well. We've recently set up a Facebook page to help spread the word about what we're doing there. If you haven't already visited and become a fan, this is my shameless plug and request to do so. And don't forget to suggest it to your friends (especially if they live in SF, and are MSMs, IDUs or trans-folk). Thanks!!!
Ok, I've got to head out and do something today. I think the laundry is the big winner. Ugh.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
I give up! Uncle! Uncle!
Earlier this morning, I turned in my final paper for possibly the most insanely difficult junior college class I've ever taken. My professor has a PhD in literature from a VERY liberal women's college and I swear, the woman could find a rape scene or rape intentions in ANY piece of written work. Here's a million dollar term that might garner some strange looks if you manage to use in conversation: vagina dentata. On day freaking one of summer session English 1B, she dropped the vagina dentata bomb on us. Imagine the looks of sheer terror on the faces of those who are not native English speakers. Pure. Comedy.
This class was ridiculous, though, because of suggestions like this (I know this is a lot to read, but trust me, it'll give you great insight into what I was up against):
Take the following quote from The Merchant of Venice: “…Renowned suitors, and her sunny locks hang on her temples like a golden fleece…” (citation). After the quote, you’d have to explain what “renowned” means. What does it signify? Then you’d unpack the puns. “Locks” means hair and padlocks. We only lock up items that are valuable, but it is also a form of punishment; such as being locked away for life. Lock also suggests unity or a union, as in marriage, such as in the phrase: lip-lock. You’d also have to entertain the word sunny. I’d say that it relates to golden and golden means monetary value and aesthetic value, as in a golden tan. Then we have golden fleece. Gold by itself = wealth and beauty but golden fleece is an allusion to a Greek myth. The golden fleece gives Jason the power of invisibility and he uses this power to kill Medusa, a powerful woman. Medusa can turn men to stone, which is interesting because of the phrase “blinded by beauty.” Instead of being blinded by beauty, one is turned to stone from her ugliness and the hero must triumph over her. Mankind either suffers from woman’s beauty or suffers from her ugliness and thus mankind must be saved.
Oh my GOD, fuck me in the goat-ass! Unpack the puns?! Are you kidding me?! I thought I was a decent writer, but I never stood a chance against this woman. I could take a trillion English classes and never think the way she does. To me, the above "suggestion" qualifies as reading into ONE LINE of a very long play WAAAAAAAAAAAAY too much. She said that if we couldn't get all of that out of one line, we weren't being very sophisticated. If that's the case, I'm as barbaric as they come. Sadly, to get a decent grade on any of the fourteen (yes, fourteen) papers that she had us write in a mere six weeks, you had to think exactly like she did. If she didn't agree with what you wrote, your grade would suffer.
For me, what this lead to was finding abstract inspiration from an episode of Oprah that featured Jessica Simpson, for crying out loud. I also managed to contort and twist and completely mutilate a Dave Matthews song...not surprisingly, she loved these two papers. Also not surprising was that these were the two papers I was the least proud of. I didn't believe in a single word I wrote and felt that I was handing in an absolute pile of shit, and yet she raved about my creativity.
Bottom line here is that I just couldn't win. If I wrote about things that I believed in, I got C's (C's!!). If I vomited baloney onto sheets of paper that lacked any sort of coherent idea, she was pleased, but still not in the mood to hand out an A. I've honestly never had so much trouble figuring out what a professor wanted before! Even when I got my papers back and read through the pages of comments, I still didn't get it...nothing was clarified, nothing was made easier to understand.
With the final paper handed in, I can't do anything but just hope that she sees some improvement in my ability to give her something that she agrees with. Because otherwise, I just earned myself another C in an English class.
I also apologize for the lack of posting around here lately, but Professor Vagina Dentata Rape Scene really killed my desire to write for fun. Now that I'm finished with her class, I will hopefully get back to enjoying the mindless blather that takes place here...
This class was ridiculous, though, because of suggestions like this (I know this is a lot to read, but trust me, it'll give you great insight into what I was up against):
Take the following quote from The Merchant of Venice: “…Renowned suitors, and her sunny locks hang on her temples like a golden fleece…” (citation). After the quote, you’d have to explain what “renowned” means. What does it signify? Then you’d unpack the puns. “Locks” means hair and padlocks. We only lock up items that are valuable, but it is also a form of punishment; such as being locked away for life. Lock also suggests unity or a union, as in marriage, such as in the phrase: lip-lock. You’d also have to entertain the word sunny. I’d say that it relates to golden and golden means monetary value and aesthetic value, as in a golden tan. Then we have golden fleece. Gold by itself = wealth and beauty but golden fleece is an allusion to a Greek myth. The golden fleece gives Jason the power of invisibility and he uses this power to kill Medusa, a powerful woman. Medusa can turn men to stone, which is interesting because of the phrase “blinded by beauty.” Instead of being blinded by beauty, one is turned to stone from her ugliness and the hero must triumph over her. Mankind either suffers from woman’s beauty or suffers from her ugliness and thus mankind must be saved.
Oh my GOD, fuck me in the goat-ass! Unpack the puns?! Are you kidding me?! I thought I was a decent writer, but I never stood a chance against this woman. I could take a trillion English classes and never think the way she does. To me, the above "suggestion" qualifies as reading into ONE LINE of a very long play WAAAAAAAAAAAAY too much. She said that if we couldn't get all of that out of one line, we weren't being very sophisticated. If that's the case, I'm as barbaric as they come. Sadly, to get a decent grade on any of the fourteen (yes, fourteen) papers that she had us write in a mere six weeks, you had to think exactly like she did. If she didn't agree with what you wrote, your grade would suffer.
For me, what this lead to was finding abstract inspiration from an episode of Oprah that featured Jessica Simpson, for crying out loud. I also managed to contort and twist and completely mutilate a Dave Matthews song...not surprisingly, she loved these two papers. Also not surprising was that these were the two papers I was the least proud of. I didn't believe in a single word I wrote and felt that I was handing in an absolute pile of shit, and yet she raved about my creativity.
Bottom line here is that I just couldn't win. If I wrote about things that I believed in, I got C's (C's!!). If I vomited baloney onto sheets of paper that lacked any sort of coherent idea, she was pleased, but still not in the mood to hand out an A. I've honestly never had so much trouble figuring out what a professor wanted before! Even when I got my papers back and read through the pages of comments, I still didn't get it...nothing was clarified, nothing was made easier to understand.
With the final paper handed in, I can't do anything but just hope that she sees some improvement in my ability to give her something that she agrees with. Because otherwise, I just earned myself another C in an English class.
I also apologize for the lack of posting around here lately, but Professor Vagina Dentata Rape Scene really killed my desire to write for fun. Now that I'm finished with her class, I will hopefully get back to enjoying the mindless blather that takes place here...
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Hi honey, how was your day at the office?
Things I never knew existed, but have since learned come in VERY handy during an HIV counseling session at Glide (and because I'm a total demure prude, I'll let you either Google the terms yourself, or ask me in the comments for the definitions):
1. Booty bump
2. Gummy gobbler
3. Gaffle pussy
4. The location of the sole tranny-only needle exchange in the city
5. Banana hand job
6. PNP, JO, DDF, MSM, IDU
7. Bottom or vers
8. Poppers
During a session today, a sex worker said, "My coochie don't do nothin' but make me money." If that's not in a rap song, it needs to be. You got that, Lil' Wayne? She. Was. Comedy.
The things that come up in sessions astonish me sometimes. I swear, I am the prudest, squarest white girl around. I wonder if the people I counsel secretly think I am too square to be doing this (and the funny thing is that I'm not all that square!). Seriously, I have so much to learn.
1. Booty bump
2. Gummy gobbler
3. Gaffle pussy
4. The location of the sole tranny-only needle exchange in the city
5. Banana hand job
6. PNP, JO, DDF, MSM, IDU
7. Bottom or vers
8. Poppers
During a session today, a sex worker said, "My coochie don't do nothin' but make me money." If that's not in a rap song, it needs to be. You got that, Lil' Wayne? She. Was. Comedy.
The things that come up in sessions astonish me sometimes. I swear, I am the prudest, squarest white girl around. I wonder if the people I counsel secretly think I am too square to be doing this (and the funny thing is that I'm not all that square!). Seriously, I have so much to learn.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Phoney Baloney
Dear Chris Brown,
You know that performance at the BET Awards that everyone's talking about from last night? Yeah, that one:
(for those who like MJ, he actually does a pretty cool impersonation...but for everyone else, let the thing load and then skip to about 1:55)
You're full of shit and no one believes that those crocodile tears were genuine. The only thing you're crying about is that you single-handedly destroyed your own career when you beat up Rihanna.
Now, move along. Ain't nobody buyin' what you're sellin', you little whack-ass busta. That's all.
You know that performance at the BET Awards that everyone's talking about from last night? Yeah, that one:
(for those who like MJ, he actually does a pretty cool impersonation...but for everyone else, let the thing load and then skip to about 1:55)
You're full of shit and no one believes that those crocodile tears were genuine. The only thing you're crying about is that you single-handedly destroyed your own career when you beat up Rihanna.
Now, move along. Ain't nobody buyin' what you're sellin', you little whack-ass busta. That's all.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Minor annoyances
I got an email from my nutrition professor this morning informing me that her Excel program had made an error in calculating my final grade and she only caught it after grades had been submitted. So, instead of the A that I had earned by accumulating the highest scores on three exams and completing the extra credit assignment, my final grade in the LAMEST class I have ever taken is currently a B. NOT OK. She did say that she's working on fixing it with the college administration, but she's also going out of town for the entire summer and knowing how long things generally take to get done at this school, I better stay on top of it. Lovely.
I did manage to nail down an A in pathophysiology, though. And that's nice!
On my volunteer application for Planned Parenthood, I found this question: "What does pro-choice mean to you?" And then, there was literally ONE LINE to tackle that very complex question. Dude, can I attach additional pages? I could write lots about that deceptively simple question. Like the Oxford One-Word Admission essays...except this is one question.
Parents, WHY do some of you purchase the ear piercing squeaky shoes for your special little snowflakes (credit for that goes to Miss Plumcake) and then let them run out of control in a quiet office? Its just mind boggling, really. Look, I'm sure Aiden and Alannah will be JUUUUUUUUUST fine without you having to hear their every little precious step. And if you can't locate your children by sight and have to listen for their squeaky whereabouts, well, you're just not cut out for this whole parent thing.
DJC and I recently watched Food Inc. for the aforementioned nutrition class and I have to say, DAMN, that movie has me a little more than messed up diet-wise. And when I say "diet", I don't mean a reduction of calories or cutting out this or that in hopes of losing weight. Diet, in this case, is simply the things that I eat on a daily basis. Because of that movie (and partially due to my nutrition professor's semi-Nazi stance on minimally processed foods), DJC and I are really re-evaluating what and more importantly, HOW we eat. What does this mean in practical terms? More local, organic veggies from small farms. More farmers' markets. Less red meat. NO fast food (I still love you Taco Bell!). NO foods with HFCS. Knowing where our chicken has come from. More fiber. More natural vitamins and minerals.
I think that everyone should see this movie. Its 100% disturbing but also factual. Food, instead of remaining a source of nourishment for humans, has become a big business controlled by a bunch of mulitnational nightmare corporations who have little to no concern for animals, their own workers and least of all, consumers. I shouldn't have been surprised by anything I saw in this movie, but I really was. I had no idea just how out of hand things have gotten. Yes, getting through the whole movie will suck, but I think everyone needs to see just what's behind what we eat.
I miss you Crunchwrap Supreme...but it's for the best.
I did manage to nail down an A in pathophysiology, though. And that's nice!
On my volunteer application for Planned Parenthood, I found this question: "What does pro-choice mean to you?" And then, there was literally ONE LINE to tackle that very complex question. Dude, can I attach additional pages? I could write lots about that deceptively simple question. Like the Oxford One-Word Admission essays...except this is one question.
Parents, WHY do some of you purchase the ear piercing squeaky shoes for your special little snowflakes (credit for that goes to Miss Plumcake) and then let them run out of control in a quiet office? Its just mind boggling, really. Look, I'm sure Aiden and Alannah will be JUUUUUUUUUST fine without you having to hear their every little precious step. And if you can't locate your children by sight and have to listen for their squeaky whereabouts, well, you're just not cut out for this whole parent thing.
DJC and I recently watched Food Inc. for the aforementioned nutrition class and I have to say, DAMN, that movie has me a little more than messed up diet-wise. And when I say "diet", I don't mean a reduction of calories or cutting out this or that in hopes of losing weight. Diet, in this case, is simply the things that I eat on a daily basis. Because of that movie (and partially due to my nutrition professor's semi-Nazi stance on minimally processed foods), DJC and I are really re-evaluating what and more importantly, HOW we eat. What does this mean in practical terms? More local, organic veggies from small farms. More farmers' markets. Less red meat. NO fast food (I still love you Taco Bell!). NO foods with HFCS. Knowing where our chicken has come from. More fiber. More natural vitamins and minerals.
I think that everyone should see this movie. Its 100% disturbing but also factual. Food, instead of remaining a source of nourishment for humans, has become a big business controlled by a bunch of mulitnational nightmare corporations who have little to no concern for animals, their own workers and least of all, consumers. I shouldn't have been surprised by anything I saw in this movie, but I really was. I had no idea just how out of hand things have gotten. Yes, getting through the whole movie will suck, but I think everyone needs to see just what's behind what we eat.
I miss you Crunchwrap Supreme...but it's for the best.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
My life these days
Get out of bed, despite how nice and warm I am. Drag self to the gym on Monday and Wednesday mornings. Drag self to nutrition and pathophysiology classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, despite the fact that the nursing schools that require these classes have already had their lotteries for their 2010 classes. Guess who didn't get in. Some days, I'll do laundry in the afternoons. Sometimes, I'll go to the gym in the evenings instead of the mornings. Most days, I need to figure out what DJC and I will be eating for dinner. Have hour-long conversation with my mother about cupcake liners, cupcake trays, flower arrangements, invitations and various other wedding things. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
Honestly, I just don't have anything to blog about lately. I'm trying to figure out where the hell I'm going to go from here in terms of my schooling. I seriously looked into Heald College's Medical Assistant program, but when I got to the financial aid step, I tromped on the emergency brake. Hard. Even though all of my previous classwork would only make my education commitment 12 months as opposed to 18, I couldn't see shelling out nearly $16K for the possibility of getting myself a $20/hr (max!!) job.
I did look at another school in Berkeley whose program was only 5 months long and roughly $4,500. I spent all of five minutes at this place before bolting for the door. The "admissions counselor" didn't even have an office to take me to, and there were four (count 'em, FOUR) armed security guards at the entrance to the school. The place is located right across the street from Berkeley High School and apparently, they've experienced a few violent crimes inside the school. Great. Clearly, this was not a place that encouraged learning. I was out the door and still had 40 minutes on my parking meter.
Recently, at the urging of a friend in the program, I've started to look into UC Davis's Physician Assistant program. I've previously applied to various other PA programs and didn't even get an interview. My GPA isn't the greatest and PA programs are traditionally very competitive. After my previous disappointment, I ruled this out as an option. But since I've been taking classes towards fulfilling nursing requirements, my GPA has risen a bit. I've been reading about Davis's program and I'm seriously considering giving it a shot. I will have to take three classes this summer (one English class, one math class and I'll have to re-do anatomy because its been more than five years since I last took it), and start volunteering at various free clinics that offer medical services to underserved populations.
I'm going to Glide Memorial Church on Monday to see what I can do there. And I will be volunteering for the Shanti Project in August. I'm really looking forward to actually doing something with my time. And hopefully, my volunteer experience will help set me apart from other PA applicants. Hell, I have all the time in the world right now. I might as well do something worthwhile that may help me in the future.
So, there you have it. This is what I've been up to lately. Boring. So very boring. If you need a nap after reading this or feel asleep in the middle, I totally understand.
Honestly, I just don't have anything to blog about lately. I'm trying to figure out where the hell I'm going to go from here in terms of my schooling. I seriously looked into Heald College's Medical Assistant program, but when I got to the financial aid step, I tromped on the emergency brake. Hard. Even though all of my previous classwork would only make my education commitment 12 months as opposed to 18, I couldn't see shelling out nearly $16K for the possibility of getting myself a $20/hr (max!!) job.
I did look at another school in Berkeley whose program was only 5 months long and roughly $4,500. I spent all of five minutes at this place before bolting for the door. The "admissions counselor" didn't even have an office to take me to, and there were four (count 'em, FOUR) armed security guards at the entrance to the school. The place is located right across the street from Berkeley High School and apparently, they've experienced a few violent crimes inside the school. Great. Clearly, this was not a place that encouraged learning. I was out the door and still had 40 minutes on my parking meter.
Recently, at the urging of a friend in the program, I've started to look into UC Davis's Physician Assistant program. I've previously applied to various other PA programs and didn't even get an interview. My GPA isn't the greatest and PA programs are traditionally very competitive. After my previous disappointment, I ruled this out as an option. But since I've been taking classes towards fulfilling nursing requirements, my GPA has risen a bit. I've been reading about Davis's program and I'm seriously considering giving it a shot. I will have to take three classes this summer (one English class, one math class and I'll have to re-do anatomy because its been more than five years since I last took it), and start volunteering at various free clinics that offer medical services to underserved populations.
I'm going to Glide Memorial Church on Monday to see what I can do there. And I will be volunteering for the Shanti Project in August. I'm really looking forward to actually doing something with my time. And hopefully, my volunteer experience will help set me apart from other PA applicants. Hell, I have all the time in the world right now. I might as well do something worthwhile that may help me in the future.
So, there you have it. This is what I've been up to lately. Boring. So very boring. If you need a nap after reading this or feel asleep in the middle, I totally understand.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
I bow
All the things I've wanted to say at various times, but have never had the eloquent means to do so. I love this man. Like, lots.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Shhhh...you hear that?
That's right...there's nothing to hear! That's because our ass-tastic neighbors have FINALLY moved out. Actually, to be more exact, they were evicted. It only took months and months and MONTHS of complaining from myself, DJC and the landlord's own brother (who lives on the ground floor) to get their disruptive asses out. But no matter...they're finally gone. Holy shit.
At 6:15am yesterday, the ruckus, hooting and hollering began. And I won't lie about wanting to stomp down the stairs and beat some serious fat kid ass. But, in my sleepy haze, I realized what was happening. They were MOVING. They'd recruited everyone in a five mile radius with a crappy, run-down minivan to help and were schlepping their second hand Ikea furniture out in waves. Could this really be happening? I thought it was all a dream. It was WELL before 7am, after all. I might very well have been dreaming. Seeing them haul their possessions out of the house is a dream I've had many times, naturally.
But as I saw them drive the first load of shit away, I realized that yes indeed, they were leaving. HOLY SHIT. But because it was all of 7:30am, I went back to sleep. They came back at least two more times before I got out of bed for good at around 10am (so obviously they're not moving that far away), and then it got really quiet around here. Like the kind of quiet we haven't experienced for over a year and a half. It was totally amazing. Peaceful. Blissful, even.
In light of the human trash dump that was happening downstairs, DJC and I decided that our place could use a little cleaning, too. So we promptly packed up six garbage bags full of old clothes and shoes and dropped them off at the Salvation Army. Then we spent the rest of the day cleaning, de-clutterizing, and organizing. It's quiet AND clean in here. I freaking love it.
Never again will we have to endure the orangutan hooting and body slamming at 7am on a Sunday. Never again will we be subjected to Big-Tobacco's nasty habit (The other day, DJC actually saw him bend over and allow a finished cigarette to simply fall out of his mouth. He immediately replaced it with another one. Ick x1000) and smell his two day old nicotine funk everywhere he's been. Never again will we have to deal with the fat kids playing video games at ridiculous volumes (hooting like animals all the while) and throwing their processed food trash all around the property. We'll never have to listen to them shouting anymore. We don't have to put up with the whole family's uncooperative, holier than thou attitude. We'll no longer wake to the five car alarm warning beeps every time a semi-loud vehicle goes by or to their front door being slammed when Big Tobacco comes home from whatever he does until midnight every night.
Dear lord, they're gone. I can't tell you how nice this feels. Our place is again somewhere we feel comfortable and at home. Especially today when its raining and blustery outside. We can curl up together and actually hear the rain without the downstairs bullshit too. And because I'm sure they absolutely trashed the place (I've seen in the kitchen and Big Tobacco regularly smoked inside), its going to take quite a while for the landlord to have it ready to rent again. We've got at least two, maybe three months of QUIET in the mornings!!!! AAAAAAH!! Its like a dream.
All is right in the world....finally. =)
At 6:15am yesterday, the ruckus, hooting and hollering began. And I won't lie about wanting to stomp down the stairs and beat some serious fat kid ass. But, in my sleepy haze, I realized what was happening. They were MOVING. They'd recruited everyone in a five mile radius with a crappy, run-down minivan to help and were schlepping their second hand Ikea furniture out in waves. Could this really be happening? I thought it was all a dream. It was WELL before 7am, after all. I might very well have been dreaming. Seeing them haul their possessions out of the house is a dream I've had many times, naturally.
But as I saw them drive the first load of shit away, I realized that yes indeed, they were leaving. HOLY SHIT. But because it was all of 7:30am, I went back to sleep. They came back at least two more times before I got out of bed for good at around 10am (so obviously they're not moving that far away), and then it got really quiet around here. Like the kind of quiet we haven't experienced for over a year and a half. It was totally amazing. Peaceful. Blissful, even.
In light of the human trash dump that was happening downstairs, DJC and I decided that our place could use a little cleaning, too. So we promptly packed up six garbage bags full of old clothes and shoes and dropped them off at the Salvation Army. Then we spent the rest of the day cleaning, de-clutterizing, and organizing. It's quiet AND clean in here. I freaking love it.
Never again will we have to endure the orangutan hooting and body slamming at 7am on a Sunday. Never again will we be subjected to Big-Tobacco's nasty habit (The other day, DJC actually saw him bend over and allow a finished cigarette to simply fall out of his mouth. He immediately replaced it with another one. Ick x1000) and smell his two day old nicotine funk everywhere he's been. Never again will we have to deal with the fat kids playing video games at ridiculous volumes (hooting like animals all the while) and throwing their processed food trash all around the property. We'll never have to listen to them shouting anymore. We don't have to put up with the whole family's uncooperative, holier than thou attitude. We'll no longer wake to the five car alarm warning beeps every time a semi-loud vehicle goes by or to their front door being slammed when Big Tobacco comes home from whatever he does until midnight every night.
Dear lord, they're gone. I can't tell you how nice this feels. Our place is again somewhere we feel comfortable and at home. Especially today when its raining and blustery outside. We can curl up together and actually hear the rain without the downstairs bullshit too. And because I'm sure they absolutely trashed the place (I've seen in the kitchen and Big Tobacco regularly smoked inside), its going to take quite a while for the landlord to have it ready to rent again. We've got at least two, maybe three months of QUIET in the mornings!!!! AAAAAAH!! Its like a dream.
All is right in the world....finally. =)
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Plan B...and C...and maybe D
Nursing schools, prerequisites, the lottery system, impossible odds of getting selected. All of this stuff has really been on my mind lately. Mostly because this year's applicant pool is more impacted than ever. Hundreds of us are vying for, like, 20 spots at each school. Its depressing when you really sit down and think about it. My chances of getting in are about as great as if I woke up one morning to find that I'd been reborn as a supermodel. See what I mean? Depressing.
In light of this fact, I realized need a backup plan. I've started looking into LVN programs in the Bay Area (LVN stands for Licensed Vocational Nurse...not quite an RN, but still employable). Problem here is that most of the schools want the anatomy requirement to have been fulfilled in the last five years, which means I will have to take yet another semester of effing prerequisites. Most RN programs, by comparison, don't have a time limit on when that class was taken. I checked my transcript...I took anatomy in 1996. Eeek.
Then there's the Western Career College problem. They offer an LVN program which, by all outward appearances, looked attractive. I went to the informational meeting, where the presenter glossed over the cost of the 16 month course of study, but it did not escape me. Mostly because my mouth was literally hanging open. They spend an extensive amount of time on financial aid in this presentation because tuition there will set you back nearly $45,000. FORTY FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS for the privilege of take classes at a vocational college that's located inside a mall. That's right. During your lunch break, in theory, you could go out and buy a pair of jeans and grab lunch at the Chili's all without walking outside. That is, if you could afford jeans or food after being raped for a cool $45K.
So, Plan B is out. Next, I've started to look at Medical Assistant programs. They're short (about 8 months), not prerequisite heavy, not terribly impacted, and MAs are fairly employable in all types of medical settings. See, the goal here is to gain medical experience and continue to support myself while waiting for my name to get drawn in the nursing school lottery. This, kids, is plan C. I am going to check out two such schools next week to see what the story is. The cool thing about the two I've chosen is that they offer a phlebotomy certification along with your MA license, which makes graduates instantly more employable. Bonus! Hopefully, they won't be outrageously expensive.
If neither of those schools work out, plan D involves finding an office job. Easier said than done right now, though. I've sent in some resumes, but I don't really expect to hear back from anyone. Those looking for jobs right now run into the same problem that nursing school hopefuls already know all too well...tons of applicants, one or two spots.
Plan B, C and D = one big FML.
In light of this fact, I realized need a backup plan. I've started looking into LVN programs in the Bay Area (LVN stands for Licensed Vocational Nurse...not quite an RN, but still employable). Problem here is that most of the schools want the anatomy requirement to have been fulfilled in the last five years, which means I will have to take yet another semester of effing prerequisites. Most RN programs, by comparison, don't have a time limit on when that class was taken. I checked my transcript...I took anatomy in 1996. Eeek.
Then there's the Western Career College problem. They offer an LVN program which, by all outward appearances, looked attractive. I went to the informational meeting, where the presenter glossed over the cost of the 16 month course of study, but it did not escape me. Mostly because my mouth was literally hanging open. They spend an extensive amount of time on financial aid in this presentation because tuition there will set you back nearly $45,000. FORTY FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS for the privilege of take classes at a vocational college that's located inside a mall. That's right. During your lunch break, in theory, you could go out and buy a pair of jeans and grab lunch at the Chili's all without walking outside. That is, if you could afford jeans or food after being raped for a cool $45K.
So, Plan B is out. Next, I've started to look at Medical Assistant programs. They're short (about 8 months), not prerequisite heavy, not terribly impacted, and MAs are fairly employable in all types of medical settings. See, the goal here is to gain medical experience and continue to support myself while waiting for my name to get drawn in the nursing school lottery. This, kids, is plan C. I am going to check out two such schools next week to see what the story is. The cool thing about the two I've chosen is that they offer a phlebotomy certification along with your MA license, which makes graduates instantly more employable. Bonus! Hopefully, they won't be outrageously expensive.
If neither of those schools work out, plan D involves finding an office job. Easier said than done right now, though. I've sent in some resumes, but I don't really expect to hear back from anyone. Those looking for jobs right now run into the same problem that nursing school hopefuls already know all too well...tons of applicants, one or two spots.
Plan B, C and D = one big FML.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
The Big-O debacle
My car eats tires for breakfast...and then snacks on them again later in the day...and then feasts on them for dinner. The funny thing is that my alignment is fine and always has been. Mechanics are frequently surprised to see the condition of my tires after the see that the alignment is cool. Yeah, me too. Anyways, recently DJC convinced me that I needed at least two new tires. So, I high-tailed it over to the Alameda Big-O. Upon walking in the door, things immediately went south.
The first person to talk to me was Brian. He informed me that the computer said that there were two tires in my size in stock, but upon trying to verify that, he was able to actually locate only one. He said that he would have to order one from the Fremont store and that it wouldn't be delivered until the next day. OK, I thought, I'll just come back. But Brian said, "WHOAAA. We have to ask you to pay for them now...you know, to reserve them." Ummm, OK. So I coughed up $120 for nothing and went home.
The next day, I returned only to find that my tires, you know, the ones I had paid for to "reserve" had been put on another car. This might have been the closest I've been to really hauling off and punching someone in a long time. To rectify the situation, Brian upgraded my tires to the next ones up for free. Whatever, I thought. Just as long as they were round, and would allow my car to move forward and back, I didn't really care. I was steaming mad.
Well, between the "technicians" taking countless cigarette and cell phone breaks, the tires somehow got mounted onto my car. I drove away two hours later. This is where things really went to hell in a handbag, though.
At speeds over 50mph my car shook violently. My freaking teeth rattled in my head. I vowed to take the car back the next day and have this whole shaking thing sorted.
The "technician" I spoke with during my second visit told me, in no uncertain terms, that they had done everything correctly the first time and that if there was a problem now, it was my fault. My car sure as hell didn't shake like that before the tires were replaced, dude! Clearly, it was my fault. Ass. Anyway, he said they'd take the tires off, re-balance them and all would be well. Two hours later, I drove off, steaming mad again.
Everything worked out this time, right? Except not so much. If anything, after the second round of balancing, the shaking and rattling and vibrations at high speeds were WORSE. I was livid. There was no way I was going to take my car back to the Alameda Big-O, so I decided to drive all the way out to Danville to have the guys there take a look. I'd had good luck with service there before and the Alameda ass-clowns were clearly entirely too busy to properly assess what was causing the shaking. Too busy or too lazy...I can't tell which.
Here's what the Danville folks found: During the first trip in to the Alamdea store, the new tires had been put on the rear (pretty standard), and the rear tires moved to the front. Well, those tires had not worn evenly and were wobbling all over the place. Apparently, a bracket had been broken during the process of the installation as well (nice). The Danville guys took the new back tires and swapped them to the front, putting the old ones back on the rear axles. And here's the cool part....they test drove it to make sure that everything was fine. Well, it wasn't. The car still shook and wobbled. They then took a look at the new tires themselves and found that one wasn't completely round (?!?!). Mind you, these are the tires I purchased less than a week ago!
The Danville guys agreed to provide a new, perfectly round tire to me at no cost, which is what is being installed currently. So, here I sit at the local Chargebucks, killing time. I'm just glad they were able to figure out what was wrong. They put in the extra effort that Alameda wasn't willing to do. Eff those turkeys. Never going back there again. Danville Big-O FO' EVA!
The first person to talk to me was Brian. He informed me that the computer said that there were two tires in my size in stock, but upon trying to verify that, he was able to actually locate only one. He said that he would have to order one from the Fremont store and that it wouldn't be delivered until the next day. OK, I thought, I'll just come back. But Brian said, "WHOAAA. We have to ask you to pay for them now...you know, to reserve them." Ummm, OK. So I coughed up $120 for nothing and went home.
The next day, I returned only to find that my tires, you know, the ones I had paid for to "reserve" had been put on another car. This might have been the closest I've been to really hauling off and punching someone in a long time. To rectify the situation, Brian upgraded my tires to the next ones up for free. Whatever, I thought. Just as long as they were round, and would allow my car to move forward and back, I didn't really care. I was steaming mad.
Well, between the "technicians" taking countless cigarette and cell phone breaks, the tires somehow got mounted onto my car. I drove away two hours later. This is where things really went to hell in a handbag, though.
At speeds over 50mph my car shook violently. My freaking teeth rattled in my head. I vowed to take the car back the next day and have this whole shaking thing sorted.
The "technician" I spoke with during my second visit told me, in no uncertain terms, that they had done everything correctly the first time and that if there was a problem now, it was my fault. My car sure as hell didn't shake like that before the tires were replaced, dude! Clearly, it was my fault. Ass. Anyway, he said they'd take the tires off, re-balance them and all would be well. Two hours later, I drove off, steaming mad again.
Everything worked out this time, right? Except not so much. If anything, after the second round of balancing, the shaking and rattling and vibrations at high speeds were WORSE. I was livid. There was no way I was going to take my car back to the Alameda Big-O, so I decided to drive all the way out to Danville to have the guys there take a look. I'd had good luck with service there before and the Alameda ass-clowns were clearly entirely too busy to properly assess what was causing the shaking. Too busy or too lazy...I can't tell which.
Here's what the Danville folks found: During the first trip in to the Alamdea store, the new tires had been put on the rear (pretty standard), and the rear tires moved to the front. Well, those tires had not worn evenly and were wobbling all over the place. Apparently, a bracket had been broken during the process of the installation as well (nice). The Danville guys took the new back tires and swapped them to the front, putting the old ones back on the rear axles. And here's the cool part....they test drove it to make sure that everything was fine. Well, it wasn't. The car still shook and wobbled. They then took a look at the new tires themselves and found that one wasn't completely round (?!?!). Mind you, these are the tires I purchased less than a week ago!
The Danville guys agreed to provide a new, perfectly round tire to me at no cost, which is what is being installed currently. So, here I sit at the local Chargebucks, killing time. I'm just glad they were able to figure out what was wrong. They put in the extra effort that Alameda wasn't willing to do. Eff those turkeys. Never going back there again. Danville Big-O FO' EVA!
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
More rants and raves
Friday afternoon, I logged on to Chabot's website to make sure that every last one of my transcripts had arrived in time to meet their nursing program's timeline. They require that each school mails transcripts directly by January 29th, which can be a scary thing. Leaving my nursing school future to the disgruntled, underpaid, overworked LaWandas of the local junior colleges gave me cold sweats at night. For good reason, too.
As I scanned through all of the schools that had managed to do their jobs and get my transcripts to Chabot in time, I wasn't immediately alarmed. But then, wait...one was missing! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! NO! This could not be happening! I had worked hard on my application and had gone to great lengths to get all of my paperwork in line and then BAM!, Diablo Valley College 's ineptitude took all of that away in a blink of an eye. I was certain Chabot would reject my application because it was incomplete. In this day and age of more applicants than program spaces, colleges are looking for any reason to narrow the applicant pool. I was literally in tears.
I picked up the phone and called DVC's admissions and transcript department. Some bitter, angry woman basically told me that it takes 10 business days to process a request. Today, Friday the 29th, was the eighth business day. EVERY OTHER SCHOOL managed to process my requests on time, but DVC held on to it for eight business days. I asked the unhelpful lady if there was anything I could do. She told me that this whole thing was my fault because I should have paid for the rush processing. I asked if I could do that right then and there. "No," she barked. "Rush processing takes 48 hours." Fuck my life. She basically told me that there was nothing I could do. I was shit out of luck.
Did I mention that I cried? Well, I did. LOTS. Like hysterically. With the impossibly low probability of getting into a lottery school , I couldn't afford to take myself out of the running of any of them! AAAH!
I called Chabot and belly-ached and blubbered my way through several phone messages to anyone in the nursing department whose answering machine I could get. I felt like I was screwed. I briefly scanned the original application and found several references to the fact that they do not accept late transcripts under any circumstances. *sigh*
By Saturday morning, I had come to terms with the fact that my application would be rejected. It sucked, but ultimately, it was my fault for not checking to see if my transcripts had been received earlier in the week. There really was nothing I could do at this point.
Monday morning, I got a call from Chabot's nursing department stating that they would accept transcripts up until Friday of this week (Feb. 5th). I IMMEDIATELY got on the phone with DVC again and was greeted by a friendly, incredibly helpful woman named Renee, who basically told me that she couldn't even find my original request and that's why it hadn't been processed. When I explained my situation, she apologized profusely and promised to help me out by putting my transcript in the mail that same day. When she said this, I honestly felt about 1500 pounds of stress lift off of my shoulders. Renee, my savior, hooked it up. The bitter woman from Friday made me cry...and Renee made me dance around with joy.
As I scanned through all of the schools that had managed to do their jobs and get my transcripts to Chabot in time, I wasn't immediately alarmed. But then, wait...one was missing! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! NO! This could not be happening! I had worked hard on my application and had gone to great lengths to get all of my paperwork in line and then BAM!, Diablo Valley College 's ineptitude took all of that away in a blink of an eye. I was certain Chabot would reject my application because it was incomplete. In this day and age of more applicants than program spaces, colleges are looking for any reason to narrow the applicant pool. I was literally in tears.
I picked up the phone and called DVC's admissions and transcript department. Some bitter, angry woman basically told me that it takes 10 business days to process a request. Today, Friday the 29th, was the eighth business day. EVERY OTHER SCHOOL managed to process my requests on time, but DVC held on to it for eight business days. I asked the unhelpful lady if there was anything I could do. She told me that this whole thing was my fault because I should have paid for the rush processing. I asked if I could do that right then and there. "No," she barked. "Rush processing takes 48 hours." Fuck my life. She basically told me that there was nothing I could do. I was shit out of luck.
Did I mention that I cried? Well, I did. LOTS. Like hysterically. With the impossibly low probability of getting into a lottery school , I couldn't afford to take myself out of the running of any of them! AAAH!
I called Chabot and belly-ached and blubbered my way through several phone messages to anyone in the nursing department whose answering machine I could get. I felt like I was screwed. I briefly scanned the original application and found several references to the fact that they do not accept late transcripts under any circumstances. *sigh*
By Saturday morning, I had come to terms with the fact that my application would be rejected. It sucked, but ultimately, it was my fault for not checking to see if my transcripts had been received earlier in the week. There really was nothing I could do at this point.
Monday morning, I got a call from Chabot's nursing department stating that they would accept transcripts up until Friday of this week (Feb. 5th). I IMMEDIATELY got on the phone with DVC again and was greeted by a friendly, incredibly helpful woman named Renee, who basically told me that she couldn't even find my original request and that's why it hadn't been processed. When I explained my situation, she apologized profusely and promised to help me out by putting my transcript in the mail that same day. When she said this, I honestly felt about 1500 pounds of stress lift off of my shoulders. Renee, my savior, hooked it up. The bitter woman from Friday made me cry...and Renee made me dance around with joy.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Rants and Raves
Hmmm. 10 seconds ago, I had plenty of motivation to blog. Now, I think I'm gonna repaint my nails instead. They're very chipped from last night and I just can't handle looking at them for another minute. Be be back soon.
Update: I'm back! My nails are a lovely shade of OPI's "Suzi Skis in the Pyrenees" (a dark gray inky blue) and I'm ready to rock. I feel much better about the state of my nails. Woot. Love the color!
First off, let's discuss Monk's Kettle. This very small "gastropub" in San Francisco's Mission District offers, like, five full pages of different beers (Typed in 9 point font. Single spaced.) Right away, one can see why DJC chose this place for his birthday celebration. They also have a pretty decent food menu. The problem: its VERY small, fairly pricey for beers and is overrun with an abundance of trust-fund hipsters. What could go wrong?
When we arrived, we were told that our entire party needed to be present to be seated, but because there were eight of us, we couldn't all be seated together. Ummm, ohhhh- kaaay. The place is so small that they literally couldn't seat eight people together. The host was flustered and flitted around until he figured out a way to get a booth for six and then a small table for two in close proximity. Despite having to wait over ninety minutes to be seated, all was well.
Our waiter showed up and told us we had to order food immediately. He rushed us through our entire meal. After our dinner plates had been hastily cleared, he informed us that he had been told by his manager to "move the table along". What that meant was that we either had to order more food (dessert), or we had to go. Apparently, there is a very long wait for a table on Saturday nights and they couldn't afford to have us sit there and only order beers. Ahem. Take a gander at their beer list and tell me if you've seen beer prices that outrageous before. Its not like we were all ordering glasses of water or sodas and simply taking up valuable space. I flashed my pearly whites and told the waiter that we definitely wanted to order more beer and planned to spend more money. He still booted us out. I guess when you've got a line out the door of people wanting buy your overprices libations, you can do whatever you want. The thing is WE WERE TOTALLY THOSE PEOPLE.
Fine, ass clowns. We decided to take our little party three doors up the street to a place called Gestalt Haus, but before we left, I hit the restroom. The ONE restroom in the whole place. Of course there was a line. While in line, I overheard our waiter bitching and moaning about the conversation he had with DJC about the table situation. Ok, I get it...I used to wait tables and I sure complained about a customer or two, but I made DAMN SURE that the customer was nowhere in sight. He carried on while I stood right behind him. One of DJC's friends convinced me not to confront the guy and so I didn't. But I heard everything he said and it was most certainly not professional. Ick.
When we arrived at Gestalt Haus, DJC's buddies ordered three ONE LITRE mugs of Hop Stoopid beer, an 8% IPA. The price: $18. For all three. That's $18 TOTAL. Insane. We totally could have skipped all the Monk's Kettle drama and gone straight for the good stuff at Gestalt. Well, at least we know better now. Can't say we'll be going back to Monk's Kettle any time soon. I just wanted DJC to have a good time with our friends and I believe he did. So, no biggie. YAY for Gestalt Haus saving the day!
But, I still Yelped about our experience. Yeah, I gave them two stars only. One for the beer selection, and one for the giant pretzel on the appetizer menu. Damn hipster establishment with their bullshit attitudes toward customer service.
Update: I'm back! My nails are a lovely shade of OPI's "Suzi Skis in the Pyrenees" (a dark gray inky blue) and I'm ready to rock. I feel much better about the state of my nails. Woot. Love the color!
First off, let's discuss Monk's Kettle. This very small "gastropub" in San Francisco's Mission District offers, like, five full pages of different beers (Typed in 9 point font. Single spaced.) Right away, one can see why DJC chose this place for his birthday celebration. They also have a pretty decent food menu. The problem: its VERY small, fairly pricey for beers and is overrun with an abundance of trust-fund hipsters. What could go wrong?
When we arrived, we were told that our entire party needed to be present to be seated, but because there were eight of us, we couldn't all be seated together. Ummm, ohhhh- kaaay. The place is so small that they literally couldn't seat eight people together. The host was flustered and flitted around until he figured out a way to get a booth for six and then a small table for two in close proximity. Despite having to wait over ninety minutes to be seated, all was well.
Our waiter showed up and told us we had to order food immediately. He rushed us through our entire meal. After our dinner plates had been hastily cleared, he informed us that he had been told by his manager to "move the table along". What that meant was that we either had to order more food (dessert), or we had to go. Apparently, there is a very long wait for a table on Saturday nights and they couldn't afford to have us sit there and only order beers. Ahem. Take a gander at their beer list and tell me if you've seen beer prices that outrageous before. Its not like we were all ordering glasses of water or sodas and simply taking up valuable space. I flashed my pearly whites and told the waiter that we definitely wanted to order more beer and planned to spend more money. He still booted us out. I guess when you've got a line out the door of people wanting buy your overprices libations, you can do whatever you want. The thing is WE WERE TOTALLY THOSE PEOPLE.
Fine, ass clowns. We decided to take our little party three doors up the street to a place called Gestalt Haus, but before we left, I hit the restroom. The ONE restroom in the whole place. Of course there was a line. While in line, I overheard our waiter bitching and moaning about the conversation he had with DJC about the table situation. Ok, I get it...I used to wait tables and I sure complained about a customer or two, but I made DAMN SURE that the customer was nowhere in sight. He carried on while I stood right behind him. One of DJC's friends convinced me not to confront the guy and so I didn't. But I heard everything he said and it was most certainly not professional. Ick.
When we arrived at Gestalt Haus, DJC's buddies ordered three ONE LITRE mugs of Hop Stoopid beer, an 8% IPA. The price: $18. For all three. That's $18 TOTAL. Insane. We totally could have skipped all the Monk's Kettle drama and gone straight for the good stuff at Gestalt. Well, at least we know better now. Can't say we'll be going back to Monk's Kettle any time soon. I just wanted DJC to have a good time with our friends and I believe he did. So, no biggie. YAY for Gestalt Haus saving the day!
But, I still Yelped about our experience. Yeah, I gave them two stars only. One for the beer selection, and one for the giant pretzel on the appetizer menu. Damn hipster establishment with their bullshit attitudes toward customer service.
Monday, January 25, 2010
More laundormat insanity
The scene: the less than awesome laundromat, right after lunch. The place is packed. PACKED. Its hot, damp, and loud. So loud. Whoop.
Me: No makeup, chipped nail polish, hair wet from the rain, velour pants, black Uggs. So. Not. Hot.
Him: Receding hair line, cargo shorts and flip-flops despite the rain, cell phone permanently attached to his ear, can't stop looking at me. Really. Kinda icky.
Finally, homeboy makes his move. As I'm folding my laundry (and DJC's) directly from the dryer, he slides up next to me, gets my attention, and says, "You've got nice legs and a great ass. Wanna get a drink sometime?"
I think my mouth might have fallen open. Despite the sheer hilarity of the dude's comments, there are several very pressing issues that I feel I need to discuss:
First, did he miss the very shiny ring on my left hand? I feel like people of his age (roughly mid 30s), look for the ring before making such a ridiculous stab at my "great ass". For all I know, he saw my ring and just didn't care. Whatever the case, EW.
Secondly, and far more importantly, ring or no ring, did he think that line would actually work? I'm afraid he thought it would. In a laundromat. While I'm clearly folding a man's polo shirt. Good lord.
The funny thing was that I was SUPER embarrassed by the whole exchange. Its not often that I hear compliments about my hind quarters from strangers. Its not like either are my best feature. I think I may have turned eight different shades of red. Thankfully, I quickly dispatched the weird stranger and continued to fold underwear and socks.
There are times when I'm happy about being able to wash and dry four loads of laundry in about ninety minutes, but today was not one of them. Oh, who am I kidding...today was totally hysterical.
Me: No makeup, chipped nail polish, hair wet from the rain, velour pants, black Uggs. So. Not. Hot.
Him: Receding hair line, cargo shorts and flip-flops despite the rain, cell phone permanently attached to his ear, can't stop looking at me. Really. Kinda icky.
Finally, homeboy makes his move. As I'm folding my laundry (and DJC's) directly from the dryer, he slides up next to me, gets my attention, and says, "You've got nice legs and a great ass. Wanna get a drink sometime?"
I think my mouth might have fallen open. Despite the sheer hilarity of the dude's comments, there are several very pressing issues that I feel I need to discuss:
First, did he miss the very shiny ring on my left hand? I feel like people of his age (roughly mid 30s), look for the ring before making such a ridiculous stab at my "great ass". For all I know, he saw my ring and just didn't care. Whatever the case, EW.
Secondly, and far more importantly, ring or no ring, did he think that line would actually work? I'm afraid he thought it would. In a laundromat. While I'm clearly folding a man's polo shirt. Good lord.
The funny thing was that I was SUPER embarrassed by the whole exchange. Its not often that I hear compliments about my hind quarters from strangers. Its not like either are my best feature. I think I may have turned eight different shades of red. Thankfully, I quickly dispatched the weird stranger and continued to fold underwear and socks.
There are times when I'm happy about being able to wash and dry four loads of laundry in about ninety minutes, but today was not one of them. Oh, who am I kidding...today was totally hysterical.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Jack Frost is nipping at my patience...
Am I the only one who HATES Christmas music? Like really hates it? Its just that at this time of year, I can't get away from it. Everywhere I go, its playing...Starbucks, Trader Joe's, The Gap, Kragan Auto Parts, TACO BELL. Damn it! I can only handle so much of "Its Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas" before I start to lose it.
I woke up this morning with "Have a Holly Jolly Christmas" stuck in my head. Have a fucking HOLLY JOLLY CHRISTMAS! Seriously! And I can't make it stop!!
There used to be one exception to this...and it was the Peanuts Christmas CD. My dad loves the music and played it every year during the entire month of December. He did this for years, but now that my parents are living far, far away, hearing this CD only reminds me of how much I miss them and how I won't be seeing them for the holidays. Consequently, this CD's out, too. Can't listen to it without getting sad.
In a nutshell, I'm over Christmas music and wish every establishment I walked in to would give it a freaking rest already! Yes, some may say that I am a Scrooge, but you have to remember that Scrooge came around at the end of the story and found the Christmas spirit in his heart.
I'm not as open to change. Fa-la-la-la-la....la-la-la-la.
I woke up this morning with "Have a Holly Jolly Christmas" stuck in my head. Have a fucking HOLLY JOLLY CHRISTMAS! Seriously! And I can't make it stop!!
There used to be one exception to this...and it was the Peanuts Christmas CD. My dad loves the music and played it every year during the entire month of December. He did this for years, but now that my parents are living far, far away, hearing this CD only reminds me of how much I miss them and how I won't be seeing them for the holidays. Consequently, this CD's out, too. Can't listen to it without getting sad.
In a nutshell, I'm over Christmas music and wish every establishment I walked in to would give it a freaking rest already! Yes, some may say that I am a Scrooge, but you have to remember that Scrooge came around at the end of the story and found the Christmas spirit in his heart.
I'm not as open to change. Fa-la-la-la-la....la-la-la-la.
Monday, December 14, 2009
My current stream of consciousness...
Finals. Stress. More arithmetic than I ever thought I'd have to do after leaving 4th grade...sans calculator. Stress. Headache. Sore shoulders and neck. 3 hours of hell and no time left over to check my math. Divot in my finger from holding the pencil too tightly. Hardest class I will probably ever have to take...even when I get into nursing school. Whether I feel good about my efforts or not, its over. Hope I passed. Not gonna lie...I hated every single moment of this class. Don't want to take it again. Ever. For any reason.
Now, Anthony Bourdain in Sardinia. Delicious looking foods. Fire-roasted cheeses. Fresh pastas and sauces. Cured meats. Mouth watering. Bubble bath soon. Sleep...perhaps soundly. Hopefully soundly. Dream of fire-roasted cheeses and house wines. Mmmm...
Tomorrow, the feverish studying will resume for Thursday's exam. Multiple choice. Infinitely comforting multiple choice. The answer's there somewhere. When it doubt, you've got a one-in-four chance. Pick C. Always C. Almost finished. Light at the end of the tunnel is almost visible. One more Starbuck's caramel brulee latte and one more lecture before the exam. Remember to buy two Scan-trons! Hang in there!
After finals, off to Wisconsin. Hellishly cold Wisconsin. Fun. Not. I'll blog if I can. Ugh.
Now, Anthony Bourdain in Sardinia. Delicious looking foods. Fire-roasted cheeses. Fresh pastas and sauces. Cured meats. Mouth watering. Bubble bath soon. Sleep...perhaps soundly. Hopefully soundly. Dream of fire-roasted cheeses and house wines. Mmmm...
Tomorrow, the feverish studying will resume for Thursday's exam. Multiple choice. Infinitely comforting multiple choice. The answer's there somewhere. When it doubt, you've got a one-in-four chance. Pick C. Always C. Almost finished. Light at the end of the tunnel is almost visible. One more Starbuck's caramel brulee latte and one more lecture before the exam. Remember to buy two Scan-trons! Hang in there!
After finals, off to Wisconsin. Hellishly cold Wisconsin. Fun. Not. I'll blog if I can. Ugh.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Black Friday fun
Remember as a kid the cool thing to do to taunt your friends (or enemies) was to creep up quietly behind them and hit them in the back of the knee so that their knee buckled, causing him or her to stumble and/or fall? Remember? Good times, huh?
Yeah, well...today in Starbucks, I was almost taken to the ground by this very thing. But was it one of my friends messin' with me? Noooooo. As I nearly fell, I turned around to see a little fuckin' four year-old in pigtails flail wildly into me as part of the display case she had been hanging on broke loose. (awesome parenting, BTW!). Skank.
I'm pretty sure in most situations, its not OK to call a four year-old a skank, but I don't care.
I GLARED at the pigtailed spaz as her mother instructed her to apologize for almost causing me to fall over. Instead, the little girl simply glared right back at me as if to say, "What should I apologize for? YOU were in MY way!".
Well, let me just say that had I fallen, I would have ass-planted right on top of her...and then she really would have had something to be sorry about.
Skank.
Aaaaah, the joys of Black Friday, or as I like to call it, "My yearly reminder of birth control's extraordinary powers". Thank goodness for online shopping!
Yeah, well...today in Starbucks, I was almost taken to the ground by this very thing. But was it one of my friends messin' with me? Noooooo. As I nearly fell, I turned around to see a little fuckin' four year-old in pigtails flail wildly into me as part of the display case she had been hanging on broke loose. (awesome parenting, BTW!). Skank.
I'm pretty sure in most situations, its not OK to call a four year-old a skank, but I don't care.
I GLARED at the pigtailed spaz as her mother instructed her to apologize for almost causing me to fall over. Instead, the little girl simply glared right back at me as if to say, "What should I apologize for? YOU were in MY way!".
Well, let me just say that had I fallen, I would have ass-planted right on top of her...and then she really would have had something to be sorry about.
Skank.
Aaaaah, the joys of Black Friday, or as I like to call it, "My yearly reminder of birth control's extraordinary powers". Thank goodness for online shopping!
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
The straw that broke the camel's back
Before I get to the story, in this scenario, yes, I AM the camel. Just so we're clear...Mmmmkay?
As most of my faithful readers know (all 5 of you), DJC and I have the most ridiculous neighbors EVAR. They live on all sides of us; below, to the left and to the right. They do some of the most insane things I've ever seen humans do. A while back, I had a conversation with an old friend about some of the recent neighborly antics and he urged me to do a blog post about them. But instead of ranting on and on about how I almost lose my mind on a daily basis (because really, these people get me pretty heated), I chose to just not pay as much attention to the comically lame goings on...until today.
So, since I've already started down the road of ridicule, I may as well give you all the whole picture. Here are some choice events that have taken place over the months...
-The downstairs neighbors have two fat male children. They hoot and holler at all hours of the day and night. No, really...they actually hoot like animals. They also like to slam each other off of the walls while grunting and carrying on. Sometimes, I wake thinking that they've gotten a new pet orangutan. Yes, that's exactly what it sounds like.
-The neighbors to our left don't really have much to do during the days. Every so often the man will get into his car in the driveway, sit there and absolutely fucking REV his engine for all its worth for three to five minutes. In case you didn't catch that, he sits there with the car in park and puts his foot on the accelerator, guns the shit out of it, and doesn't let it up for three to five minutes. After he's satisfied, he gets out of the car and goes back into his house. I've also observed this guy lift the hood of the car and then point his leaf blower cranked to full power at the car's motor for the same period of time. Not sure why. Straight up bizarre.
-Recently, the city decided it was going to cut large chunks in the street in front of our houses, make a bunch of noise, create some of the most interesting detours ever, kick up a lot of dust, and then fix those large chunks a few days later. Not exactly sure what the purpose of all the construction was other than to completely inconvenience everyone on the street. One morning at approximately 8am, the city decided to start re-paving. Immediately after they began their work, a neighbor's car alarm went off. I heard the tell-tall "beep beep" of someone turning the alarm off, and then the "beep" of re-setting the alarm. Not two minutes later, the alarm went off again. By this point, I was looking out the window in the general direction of the commotion. I watched the neighbor walk outside and re-set the alarm. Not two minutes later IT WENT OFF AGAIN. She walked outside and re-set it a third time. You get the picture...wash, rinse, repeat. It went on like this for a total of 5 times before she gave up and just left the alarm off. My god.
-The neighbors to our right sometimes have loud dinner parties...at 3am...with every light in the house turned on. But those are pretty rare. Plus, they have a cute dog that looks up at me when I blow kisses at him, so we'll let them slide.
But none of these things were so offensive that I had to write about them. Annoying, yes. Puzzling, certainly. But whatever. What pushed me over the edge into complain-land was today's incident. Read on...
-As I was studying for my physiology lab exam this morning, I heard the "beep beep" of the alarm for downstairs neighbor's silver Toyota Highlander (note: when they got this particular car, the bumper was missing a significant amount of paint. No problem, though...that's what spray paint's for!). Despite hearing the man, who we call Big Tobacco because we've never seen him without a cigarette hanging from his lips, walk out onto the back deck, I just figured that they were leaving and paid no more attention. But the beeping continued...on and off, on and off, on and off...for FIFTEEN MINUTES! I looked and sure enough, Big Tobacco was just standing on the deck clicking the alarm remote incessantly. I have no idea why. When I came home later in the day, he was at it again, although not for as long. But seriously, WTF?!
So EMcK and everyone else, there you have it. I have finally had enough. My neighbors are clearly some of the strangest people on the planet. The stories might seem funny to you, but its only because you don't have to live near my weirdo neighbors. Still, reading back over them, I have to laugh. I mean, seriously, who can be that freaking out there?!
As most of my faithful readers know (all 5 of you), DJC and I have the most ridiculous neighbors EVAR. They live on all sides of us; below, to the left and to the right. They do some of the most insane things I've ever seen humans do. A while back, I had a conversation with an old friend about some of the recent neighborly antics and he urged me to do a blog post about them. But instead of ranting on and on about how I almost lose my mind on a daily basis (because really, these people get me pretty heated), I chose to just not pay as much attention to the comically lame goings on...until today.
So, since I've already started down the road of ridicule, I may as well give you all the whole picture. Here are some choice events that have taken place over the months...
-The downstairs neighbors have two fat male children. They hoot and holler at all hours of the day and night. No, really...they actually hoot like animals. They also like to slam each other off of the walls while grunting and carrying on. Sometimes, I wake thinking that they've gotten a new pet orangutan. Yes, that's exactly what it sounds like.
-The neighbors to our left don't really have much to do during the days. Every so often the man will get into his car in the driveway, sit there and absolutely fucking REV his engine for all its worth for three to five minutes. In case you didn't catch that, he sits there with the car in park and puts his foot on the accelerator, guns the shit out of it, and doesn't let it up for three to five minutes. After he's satisfied, he gets out of the car and goes back into his house. I've also observed this guy lift the hood of the car and then point his leaf blower cranked to full power at the car's motor for the same period of time. Not sure why. Straight up bizarre.
-Recently, the city decided it was going to cut large chunks in the street in front of our houses, make a bunch of noise, create some of the most interesting detours ever, kick up a lot of dust, and then fix those large chunks a few days later. Not exactly sure what the purpose of all the construction was other than to completely inconvenience everyone on the street. One morning at approximately 8am, the city decided to start re-paving. Immediately after they began their work, a neighbor's car alarm went off. I heard the tell-tall "beep beep" of someone turning the alarm off, and then the "beep" of re-setting the alarm. Not two minutes later, the alarm went off again. By this point, I was looking out the window in the general direction of the commotion. I watched the neighbor walk outside and re-set the alarm. Not two minutes later IT WENT OFF AGAIN. She walked outside and re-set it a third time. You get the picture...wash, rinse, repeat. It went on like this for a total of 5 times before she gave up and just left the alarm off. My god.
-The neighbors to our right sometimes have loud dinner parties...at 3am...with every light in the house turned on. But those are pretty rare. Plus, they have a cute dog that looks up at me when I blow kisses at him, so we'll let them slide.
But none of these things were so offensive that I had to write about them. Annoying, yes. Puzzling, certainly. But whatever. What pushed me over the edge into complain-land was today's incident. Read on...
-As I was studying for my physiology lab exam this morning, I heard the "beep beep" of the alarm for downstairs neighbor's silver Toyota Highlander (note: when they got this particular car, the bumper was missing a significant amount of paint. No problem, though...that's what spray paint's for!). Despite hearing the man, who we call Big Tobacco because we've never seen him without a cigarette hanging from his lips, walk out onto the back deck, I just figured that they were leaving and paid no more attention. But the beeping continued...on and off, on and off, on and off...for FIFTEEN MINUTES! I looked and sure enough, Big Tobacco was just standing on the deck clicking the alarm remote incessantly. I have no idea why. When I came home later in the day, he was at it again, although not for as long. But seriously, WTF?!
So EMcK and everyone else, there you have it. I have finally had enough. My neighbors are clearly some of the strangest people on the planet. The stories might seem funny to you, but its only because you don't have to live near my weirdo neighbors. Still, reading back over them, I have to laugh. I mean, seriously, who can be that freaking out there?!
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Figure skating originality FAIL
Here I am, sitting on my new couch, dressed in fleece, sweats and Uggs, eating a chocolate croissant and ready to catch up on several days' worth of DVRed goodness. So many trashy shows to watch! Whatever will I choose first?!
But alas, I made the mistake of checking to see what else was on TV before diving in. And I found a figure skating competition. Its a little known fact that I am an absolute SUCKER for figure skating. And with the 2010 Winter Olympics right around the corner, there's a ton of figure skating to be had on TV these days. Cool! But as the top female Russian competitor took the ice, I became frustrated. Here's the thing:
There's a world FULL of amazing music out there. Why must every freaking female skater for the last 20+ years use Bizet's "Carmen"?! I mean, seriously. There are only so many ways it can be done, and no one can really do it better than Katerina Witt in the 1988 Olympics:
I think the ice skating code of points should be officially revised to ban "Carmen" from ever being used again in any competition. My god. Since Witt's gold medal performance, anyone and everyone has tried to re-capture her magic. Its just soooooooooooo painfully overused! Hell, Beyonce even starred in an MTV atrocity of pop-culture called "Carmen: A Hip-Hopera". This stratospherically bad display of horseshit also starred Lil' Bow Wow. Based on that fact alone, the graceful, elegant sport of figure skating should shun "Carmen" from competition use forever and ever, amen.
That's all. I'm done ranting now. I just wish skaters didn't play it safe with such an unoriginal, yet beautiful, piece of music. Taking the easy way out never pays off. Pick some different music, for crying out loud.
But alas, I made the mistake of checking to see what else was on TV before diving in. And I found a figure skating competition. Its a little known fact that I am an absolute SUCKER for figure skating. And with the 2010 Winter Olympics right around the corner, there's a ton of figure skating to be had on TV these days. Cool! But as the top female Russian competitor took the ice, I became frustrated. Here's the thing:
There's a world FULL of amazing music out there. Why must every freaking female skater for the last 20+ years use Bizet's "Carmen"?! I mean, seriously. There are only so many ways it can be done, and no one can really do it better than Katerina Witt in the 1988 Olympics:
I think the ice skating code of points should be officially revised to ban "Carmen" from ever being used again in any competition. My god. Since Witt's gold medal performance, anyone and everyone has tried to re-capture her magic. Its just soooooooooooo painfully overused! Hell, Beyonce even starred in an MTV atrocity of pop-culture called "Carmen: A Hip-Hopera". This stratospherically bad display of horseshit also starred Lil' Bow Wow. Based on that fact alone, the graceful, elegant sport of figure skating should shun "Carmen" from competition use forever and ever, amen.
That's all. I'm done ranting now. I just wish skaters didn't play it safe with such an unoriginal, yet beautiful, piece of music. Taking the easy way out never pays off. Pick some different music, for crying out loud.
Monday, October 26, 2009
An open letter to Bay Area radio stations
Dear Live 105, 104.5 KFOG, and 106.1 KMEL,
Due to some sort of electrical glitch in my car stereo, yours are the only radio stations I am able to listen to. Hence, I've heard every song you all seem to play in an hour long rotation every time I drive to or from classes. I've had it with the repetition and the lack of playlist imagination. I'm prepared to bail on you once and for all if my demands are not met. Here's what I want:
*Live 105: Please do not play the following Sublime songs ever again: "Santeria", "What I Got", "Caress me Down", Wrong Way" or "Doin' Time" ever again. The last song in that list is especially out of place seeing as that its now almost November and clearly not summer time when the livin's easy. I mean, c'mon...Sublime was a most excellent band and they had WAY better tunes that these. Finding a few shouldn't be all that difficult, if you actually tried...or cared.
*And while you're at it, Guns N' Roses and Metallica DO NOT belong on the same station as Death Cab for Cutie, The Cure and Weezer. Seriously, pick one genre and stick with it! Are you an alternative station that plays cutting edge modern rock or a station that will mix in the redneck stuff just for variety?
*KFOG, this one's for you, but not exclusively because Live 105 is guilty as well...PLEASE, for the love of decent music, can ya'll retire the Bob Marley songs already? You may ask yourself, has anyone made ANY respectable reggae since Bob Marley? The answer is probably, however you all seem to think that Bob is the end-all be-all of this annoying genre of music and play the same five songs over and over and over. Again, Bob had quite an extensive repertoire...dig a little and give "Three Little Birds" and "Buffalo Soldier" a freaking rest! Oh and Live 105, you can also retire Damien Marley's "Welcome to Jamrock". If I hear the lyrics "Out in the street/they call it murrrrrrrrrrrder" one more time, I might lose it.
*A number of artists have covered Bob Marley songs over the years. One that comes to mind is Annie Lennox, who did a lovely cover of "Waiting in Vain". It really doesn't sound a whole lot like the original because Miss Lennox was smart enough to cut the reggae beat out of it. Perhaps this is why I enjoy this song so much. Anyways, there's a ton of stuff like this out there. Look, mmmmkay.
*Alright KMEL, you're up. As the best choice for hip hop and R&B in the Bay Area, I PLEAD with you never to play "LOL Smiley Face" by Trey Songz again. The lyrics are astoundingly asinine: "Shorty sent a TwitPic/Said come get this/L-O-L smiley face, L-O-L smiley face". The first time I heard this song I had to wonder whose fucking idea was it to actually produce this piece of shit? I can't believe someone at Atlantic Records didn't slap Trey Songz upside his fool head when he pitched this idea to them. Its quite literally the LAMEST song I have ever heard. The previous owner of this title: "My Humps" by the Black Eyed Peas. I didn't think it could get worse than that...but I should know better. It can always get worse. Fuck me.
* And while we're talking about crap, what exactly is an "Ice cream paint job" anyways? God, has hip hop really been reduced to this kind of suckage!? Can't you all just replay some old Tribe Called Quest or De La Soul? Somewhere, Tupac and Biggie are rolling over in their graves.
* Overall, all of you, PLEASE try to expand your playlists. There was a time where I was in the car between 5 and 5:30pm daily. I knew that I could hear "The Pretender" by Foo Fighters on Live 105, "Jackie and Diane" (Really!?! How is this still on the air?!) on KFOG and "Here I Am" by Rick Ross on KMEL. EVERY DAY. The same songs at the same time. It went on like this for about a month. The complete lack of interest in actually playing something different or effort on the part of the "DJs" was not lost on me. There's SO much music out there in your respective genres. Please try to broaden your horizons and play something not so common and sucky and expected. Or else.
Love,
The Enforcer
Due to some sort of electrical glitch in my car stereo, yours are the only radio stations I am able to listen to. Hence, I've heard every song you all seem to play in an hour long rotation every time I drive to or from classes. I've had it with the repetition and the lack of playlist imagination. I'm prepared to bail on you once and for all if my demands are not met. Here's what I want:
*Live 105: Please do not play the following Sublime songs ever again: "Santeria", "What I Got", "Caress me Down", Wrong Way" or "Doin' Time" ever again. The last song in that list is especially out of place seeing as that its now almost November and clearly not summer time when the livin's easy. I mean, c'mon...Sublime was a most excellent band and they had WAY better tunes that these. Finding a few shouldn't be all that difficult, if you actually tried...or cared.
*And while you're at it, Guns N' Roses and Metallica DO NOT belong on the same station as Death Cab for Cutie, The Cure and Weezer. Seriously, pick one genre and stick with it! Are you an alternative station that plays cutting edge modern rock or a station that will mix in the redneck stuff just for variety?
*KFOG, this one's for you, but not exclusively because Live 105 is guilty as well...PLEASE, for the love of decent music, can ya'll retire the Bob Marley songs already? You may ask yourself, has anyone made ANY respectable reggae since Bob Marley? The answer is probably, however you all seem to think that Bob is the end-all be-all of this annoying genre of music and play the same five songs over and over and over. Again, Bob had quite an extensive repertoire...dig a little and give "Three Little Birds" and "Buffalo Soldier" a freaking rest! Oh and Live 105, you can also retire Damien Marley's "Welcome to Jamrock". If I hear the lyrics "Out in the street/they call it murrrrrrrrrrrder" one more time, I might lose it.
*A number of artists have covered Bob Marley songs over the years. One that comes to mind is Annie Lennox, who did a lovely cover of "Waiting in Vain". It really doesn't sound a whole lot like the original because Miss Lennox was smart enough to cut the reggae beat out of it. Perhaps this is why I enjoy this song so much. Anyways, there's a ton of stuff like this out there. Look, mmmmkay.
*Alright KMEL, you're up. As the best choice for hip hop and R&B in the Bay Area, I PLEAD with you never to play "LOL Smiley Face" by Trey Songz again. The lyrics are astoundingly asinine: "Shorty sent a TwitPic/Said come get this/L-O-L smiley face, L-O-L smiley face". The first time I heard this song I had to wonder whose fucking idea was it to actually produce this piece of shit? I can't believe someone at Atlantic Records didn't slap Trey Songz upside his fool head when he pitched this idea to them. Its quite literally the LAMEST song I have ever heard. The previous owner of this title: "My Humps" by the Black Eyed Peas. I didn't think it could get worse than that...but I should know better. It can always get worse. Fuck me.
* And while we're talking about crap, what exactly is an "Ice cream paint job" anyways? God, has hip hop really been reduced to this kind of suckage!? Can't you all just replay some old Tribe Called Quest or De La Soul? Somewhere, Tupac and Biggie are rolling over in their graves.
* Overall, all of you, PLEASE try to expand your playlists. There was a time where I was in the car between 5 and 5:30pm daily. I knew that I could hear "The Pretender" by Foo Fighters on Live 105, "Jackie and Diane" (Really!?! How is this still on the air?!) on KFOG and "Here I Am" by Rick Ross on KMEL. EVERY DAY. The same songs at the same time. It went on like this for about a month. The complete lack of interest in actually playing something different or effort on the part of the "DJs" was not lost on me. There's SO much music out there in your respective genres. Please try to broaden your horizons and play something not so common and sucky and expected. Or else.
Love,
The Enforcer
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