Today I finally worked up the nerve to tell the girl from 2 offices over that her hygiene practices were not okay. I realize this is a touchy subject and I would have been happy to leave the issue unspoken, however my throat was getting scratchy from the vom each time I witnessed this.
You see, this girl and I cross paths in the bathroom on a daily basis, sometimes multiple times a day. And the small two stall bathroom affords us the misfortune of knowing exactly who is in the bathroom and whether or not washing of hands occurs. Typically, I could really care less if you don't want to wash your hands after you go to the bathroom. I will pass silent judgment on you, but it is your prerogative. Except in this instance where to exit the bathroom I must pull the door handle. Not to mention we just paid a small fortune to install hand dryers to help with our green initiative, so we are all trying to not use the paper hand towels. But after seeing this girl use the restroom, check her hair in the mirror and exit the bathroom by grasping the door handle with her unwashed hands over and over, I have had to resort to using at least one towel to pull the door open and exit. And then I have a trash can full of towels in my office at the end of the day.
I am really grossed out by this.
And then she totally crapped on my hygienic high ground today.
I walked into the bathroom after lunch and she was washing her hands. I even saw her use soap.
As I shut the stall door, I was suddenly overcome with relief that I didn't have to be that asshole who publicly brings up the fact that she is plain gross.
And then, after washing her hands, she dried them in the air dryer. And then? She entered the other stall, relieved herself, left the stall, checked her hair in the mirror and walked out.
The F?
Who washes their hands before going to the bathroom only to not wash them after?
I was so incredibly shocked by this I lost all nerve to say anything. And I continued vom fest 2010. Except, not the vom fest that causes weight loss, which is also annoying.
Anywho.
I apologize for sharing that nightmare, but really? This is backwards, no?
In other news, I have a hair appointment Saturday for the first time in 5 months. My hair is a rats nest of stringiness.
I figure since I turn 30 in 9 months, and I have a professional job (although I no longer have to wear suits, thank God) I should start looking like I give a crap with my appearance.
Here is where I need help.
I have a lot of fine hair. And is hangs straight. Occasionally, my hair bends one way or another, but basically doesn't curl. Except for when I spray it within an inch of the ozone. And I don't want to single handedly speed up global warming.
Here is a picture of me from my wedding rehearsal so you can see my face shape. It is blurry because I cut and paint in MS Paint. Old School Baby.
Also, you should probably know I have like 20% control over my hair. My stylist has done my hair since 7th grade and I trust her implicitly. And she knows this, so if she is not on board, it isn't happening. Case in point: last April I asked for bangs. I had no bangs when I left.
Showing posts with label Anger Issues. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anger Issues. Show all posts
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Everything I never wanted to know I learned on Facebook
I am not perfect. This I know and readily admit. I have many faults, one being my penchant for gossip and unquenchable desire to know the story behind everything.
I have been trying to keep my thoughts and judgments out of other people's business. I have tried to not bring up any gossip unless it is good news about someone that can be construed as sharing in their excitement.
Facebook is killing me.
These are things that I can live with and not feel the great urge to gossip about.
What I can't live with and simultaneously try to be a good person? The Oversharers.
The guy who has an affair on MY friend. Who, on the very day the divorce is finalized changes his formerly hidden relationship status to "in a serious relationship" with the other woman. The guy who boasted of his 1 year anniversary with this same woman when his marriage failed only 10 months before. The guy who has now proposed to this woman. The woman who leaves messages on his status decrying her luck at finding such a classy and wonderful man.
The girl, who I can't place from my past but who befriended me. The girl who over the late summer months went on a status update frenzy posting about how it is never okay to hit someone, and how it is a strong woman who walks away from a bad relationship. Her status changed from in a relationship to single in between these posts. Daily posts were pro-female voicing how she was better off without that loser. Then today she reveals she is engaged. And none of her other friends seem surprised in their posts?!?
It is my *friends* like the above who make daily posts that send my brain off to crazy land while I try and figure out how their lives play out. It takes emails from Gina to remind me that it is not appropriate to email these people and ask, why in the name of monkeys are you airing out your life decisions. But, while you are airing out these happenings, could you pretty please explain more because, seriously, you are giving my overactive imagination just enough rope...
It makes me very happy that I was not apprised of such social networks while I was dating. The *official* relationship status on Facebook has me utterly confused. In my life, we had the DTR (determine the relationship) talk prior to using the term boyfriend or girlfriend. Do you now ask the other person if you are facebook official, or do you wait for them to change their status first? And how do you deal with the friend status after a breakup? Do you stay friends? Do you block your ex? How many days do you leave pictures up? Oh the insanity.
I am not complaining as without facebook I would feel completely out of the touch with the world. Also, I would miss such gems as the *like* button of which my favorite use was when a friend's status was *liked* when he went from being in a relationship to being single. Nothing says, "Dude that girl was a lifesuck" more than liking a breakup.
What I need? Is a way to subtly convince these people to write a blog so I can get to the bottom of this madness. Without them knowing I care of course.
Is that too much to ask?
I am the only one that feels this way?
- I know that an acquaintance of mine is due to have her 2nd child any day now, and I also know what he son had for dinner tonight.
- I know that another acquaintance's newborn son is sick, and I feel awful about knowing that. But I wish her and the baby nothing but the best.
- I know when the latest engagement occurs.
- I see pictures from weddings that I wasn't able to attend.
- I know what my ex is doing on any given day.
- I know that two former classmates hooked up at our class reunion last year while one of the two was still in a relationship.
- I know that entirely too many people in this world do not understand the correct usage of there, they're, and their.
- I know people log a lot of hours on farmville when they should probably be working.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Quick. How many phone numbers do YOU know by heart?
Do you remember when the sole source of telephone communication was the home phone?
I remember being so very very excited that my parents gave me my own phone line in high school. That same phone line is now the fax line for my Dad's business. (Justin R. Timberlake faxes important shit daily.)
I can easily remember when my friends in high school had pagers because cell phones were like iPads... the cool new thing that you wanted but your parents told you were too expensive for a child your age. And yes, I am looking through my cheap ass rose colored glasses and am pretending that 80% of students at my old high school do not actually own iPads, humor me, I am old and cheap.
Now? I can barely function without the use of my cell phone. My husband told me in the nicest way possible that he could that I may have a slight problem with technology rage and that normal people do not react to slow internet uploads with such fury. Personally, I feel that he is overreacting to my overreacting, but that is a post for another time.
Mybeloved loved trusty Blackberry was murdered over Labor Day weekend. Actually the judge ruled it involuntary phoneslaughter, but added on depraived indifference to appease me. Regardless, I was awarded little for the pain and suffering caused by hours of emailing and adding lost phone numbers into my new phone.
I honestly know 5 numbers by heart. 3 of those belong to my parents and 1 to my husband. Sad. (Justin R Timberlake's number is NOT the 5th, but hopefully soon.)
So, here it is about 3 weeks later and I am about to go through this misery AGAIN.
I bought a Garminfone because I figured getting a phone and a Gramin map direction thing all in one was a sweet deal and for once in my life I might have some cool tech gadget that none of my friends had.
Joke's on me. This phone sucks ass.
The phone has, in it's lifetime dropped 20+ calls, most of which were to my mother and I could look past that, but really? Also, rings when it wants to. Randomly locks itself and wont let me back in.
I HATE YOU PHONE.
So, question is now... what kind of phone should I get?
*Hint, if you answer iPhone I will come through the computer and strangle you... my company won't use iPhones for work email, blah blah blah.
Help... anyone? I would really like something with cool applications, but honestly if I can keep a call connected 100% of time I won't complain.
Also, Glee? How I have missed you.
And you too Justin R Timberlake.
I remember being so very very excited that my parents gave me my own phone line in high school. That same phone line is now the fax line for my Dad's business. (Justin R. Timberlake faxes important shit daily.)
I can easily remember when my friends in high school had pagers because cell phones were like iPads... the cool new thing that you wanted but your parents told you were too expensive for a child your age. And yes, I am looking through my cheap ass rose colored glasses and am pretending that 80% of students at my old high school do not actually own iPads, humor me, I am old and cheap.
Now? I can barely function without the use of my cell phone. My husband told me in the nicest way possible that he could that I may have a slight problem with technology rage and that normal people do not react to slow internet uploads with such fury. Personally, I feel that he is overreacting to my overreacting, but that is a post for another time.
My
I honestly know 5 numbers by heart. 3 of those belong to my parents and 1 to my husband. Sad. (Justin R Timberlake's number is NOT the 5th, but hopefully soon.)
So, here it is about 3 weeks later and I am about to go through this misery AGAIN.
I bought a Garminfone because I figured getting a phone and a Gramin map direction thing all in one was a sweet deal and for once in my life I might have some cool tech gadget that none of my friends had.
Joke's on me. This phone sucks ass.
The phone has, in it's lifetime dropped 20+ calls, most of which were to my mother and I could look past that, but really? Also, rings when it wants to. Randomly locks itself and wont let me back in.
I HATE YOU PHONE.
So, question is now... what kind of phone should I get?
*Hint, if you answer iPhone I will come through the computer and strangle you... my company won't use iPhones for work email, blah blah blah.
Help... anyone? I would really like something with cool applications, but honestly if I can keep a call connected 100% of time I won't complain.
Also, Glee? How I have missed you.
And you too Justin R Timberlake.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Stabby rant disguised as Throwback Thursday
You remember when you were young and used to pull stupid pranks on unsuspecting people?
No?
Liar...
OK, remember when you were young and used to toilet paper people's houses?
Ya, someone out there remembers this.
You know how you purposely determined which one of your friend's parents would be the least likely to flip the F out and call the cops prior to your selection of target houses to which, ahem, damage property with quilted double-ply softness?
Or which house you could call after 10pm and ask for someone whose name sounded *almost exactly* like a venereal disease?
You know how you pulled these pranks on people YOUR OWN AGE????
...breathe in, breathe out, count to ten...
What the shit is wrong with teenagers today? Can't play with people your own size, eh? Have to bring in total strangers into your world of no responsibility, adderall sustaining, no PE class required lives, do you now?
On my way back from a lovely lunch with Gina and some other friends, about a mile from my office I turned onto a residential side street, in the ghetto where I work. A narrow street with parked cars on both sides, as I was about half way to the stop sign a truck turned onto the same street going in the opposite direction. He pulled behind a parked car to let me pass, and as I passed I showed my gratitude the Texas way... I raised my fingers (all, not the middle one only) off the steering wheel in a *waving* manner and nodded my head. About half a second later as I passed this car... WAPOW. I jumped and then looked to my left and saw slimy grossness on my window. The POS had an even more childish/worthless POS in the backseat who EGGED my car.
I am twenty f*ing nine years old and my car was egged.
I feel certain there are better ways to protest the eggs will put you in the hospital thanks to bad food regulation movement. But apparently donating spoiled eggs to your children is the route parents have taken in my town. Awesome.
In the 2 minutes it took me to get to the office parking lot from the moment of impact, the egg had baked to a hard boiled state on the side of my car. Thanks Texas weather. I drove the entire way home after work with the window down because, FYI, when you try and remove almost dry egg white and yolk from a car window, it smears and becomes cloudy and completely opaque.
I wanted to turn the car around and go pull them out of the truck one by one by their ears, but then I remembered that A) I am a 29 year old woman, not my Grandfather and B) I work in the ghetto... these people probably had other *weapons* in the car besides eggs. I also considered suing, but you know, I have no idea who these punks are and I am busy and shit.
Then I called B who went bat shit crazy telling me how the paint would come off my car if the egg dried and I had to do something about it right.this.second. Way to calm me down there bud. I knew I married you for a reason.
So the moral of the story is... I guess.. teenagers should be chained to their basements/desks/kitchen tables until they are forced off the parent's payroll.
Bonus moral? Two crazies in one marriage causes unnecessary stress.Most of the egg came off in the car wash by the way, but I was a nervous wreck all afternoon anyway.
Happy long weekend you guys. And stay away from eggs.
No?
Liar...
OK, remember when you were young and used to toilet paper people's houses?
Ya, someone out there remembers this.
You know how you purposely determined which one of your friend's parents would be the least likely to flip the F out and call the cops prior to your selection of target houses to which, ahem, damage property with quilted double-ply softness?
Or which house you could call after 10pm and ask for someone whose name sounded *almost exactly* like a venereal disease?
You know how you pulled these pranks on people YOUR OWN AGE????
...breathe in, breathe out, count to ten...
What the shit is wrong with teenagers today? Can't play with people your own size, eh? Have to bring in total strangers into your world of no responsibility, adderall sustaining, no PE class required lives, do you now?
On my way back from a lovely lunch with Gina and some other friends, about a mile from my office I turned onto a residential side street, in the ghetto where I work. A narrow street with parked cars on both sides, as I was about half way to the stop sign a truck turned onto the same street going in the opposite direction. He pulled behind a parked car to let me pass, and as I passed I showed my gratitude the Texas way... I raised my fingers (all, not the middle one only) off the steering wheel in a *waving* manner and nodded my head. About half a second later as I passed this car... WAPOW. I jumped and then looked to my left and saw slimy grossness on my window. The POS had an even more childish/worthless POS in the backseat who EGGED my car.
I am twenty f*ing nine years old and my car was egged.
I feel certain there are better ways to protest the eggs will put you in the hospital thanks to bad food regulation movement. But apparently donating spoiled eggs to your children is the route parents have taken in my town. Awesome.
In the 2 minutes it took me to get to the office parking lot from the moment of impact, the egg had baked to a hard boiled state on the side of my car. Thanks Texas weather. I drove the entire way home after work with the window down because, FYI, when you try and remove almost dry egg white and yolk from a car window, it smears and becomes cloudy and completely opaque.
I wanted to turn the car around and go pull them out of the truck one by one by their ears, but then I remembered that A) I am a 29 year old woman, not my Grandfather and B) I work in the ghetto... these people probably had other *weapons* in the car besides eggs. I also considered suing, but you know, I have no idea who these punks are and I am busy and shit.
Then I called B who went bat shit crazy telling me how the paint would come off my car if the egg dried and I had to do something about it right.this.second. Way to calm me down there bud. I knew I married you for a reason.
So the moral of the story is... I guess.. teenagers should be chained to their basements/desks/kitchen tables until they are forced off the parent's payroll.
Bonus moral? Two crazies in one marriage causes unnecessary stress.Most of the egg came off in the car wash by the way, but I was a nervous wreck all afternoon anyway.
Happy long weekend you guys. And stay away from eggs.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
The day the internet news sites died
Are there really no more trustworthy news sources out there?
I gave up on CNN a few months back when I read 3 articles in one day with the exact same story only with different titles.
Fow News? I don't remember when I gave that up.
Huffington Post? There were no less than 2 stories on Elizabeth Hurley that didn't involve her significant other with a hooker. Relevancy? Also, a recent article mentioned a photo of Bethenney Frankel was the first such shot since Bryn's birth. Um, no, she was on the cover of a magazine 3 weeks post baby. C'mon Huff Post.
But today is the day the internet news died for me. (and no spell check, I will NOT capitalize "internet")
People Magazine, oh how I will miss you. But seriously. I read this this morning on your website.
Hair cascading over her shoulders... WTF? Are we practicing for the Emmy recaps? It was a MUG SHOT you douchenugget. Do NOT ruin my Sunday morning reading with your delusional grandeur of romance novel fiction writing.
Ugh.
Does no one take the news seriously anymore?
I gave up on CNN a few months back when I read 3 articles in one day with the exact same story only with different titles.
Fow News? I don't remember when I gave that up.
Huffington Post? There were no less than 2 stories on Elizabeth Hurley that didn't involve her significant other with a hooker. Relevancy? Also, a recent article mentioned a photo of Bethenney Frankel was the first such shot since Bryn's birth. Um, no, she was on the cover of a magazine 3 weeks post baby. C'mon Huff Post.
But today is the day the internet news died for me. (and no spell check, I will NOT capitalize "internet")
People Magazine, oh how I will miss you. But seriously. I read this this morning on your website.
Hair cascading over her shoulders... WTF? Are we practicing for the Emmy recaps? It was a MUG SHOT you douchenugget. Do NOT ruin my Sunday morning reading with your delusional grandeur of romance novel fiction writing.
Ugh.
Does no one take the news seriously anymore?
Thursday, August 19, 2010
How I found out my dog was smarter than me
Or at least more frugally-minded. Is that right? Or Frugal minded. Or cheap. Whatev.
Our lack of Shoesday posts can be chalked up to one of two things.
1. We have had it up to HERE with the shoe cults, or
2. We are lazy.
I will take 1 AND 2 for the win Alex.
I haven't quit shoe clandom yet, but if I don't drink the kool-aid soon, I imagine they will off me sooner rather than later.
I bought a pair of shoes in July because I didn't follow the rules. Because the rules were so super clear shoe selling people! Which rule? The 5 days no takesies backsies even if you ask for a new selection pay up now bull crap. That rule. CoughNigerianScamCough. What, wrong country?
I thought I actually liked them. They went with outfits I didn't already have a designated shoe for.
I wore them to work twice and both times I came home with unfortunately putrid smelling wet feet nurturing blisters that resembled oil coated dead jelly fish in the Gulf. But I wanted to like them. I really did. So much that when I cleaned out my closet, (well let's just say I picked up the crap on the floor), I refrained from tossing them in the Give Away pile.
Then one evening as I recovered from a terribly hard day of playing on the interwebs and emailing Gina, as I stalked people through Facebook and watched a rerun of Bones for the 4th time, I heard this weird scraping sound. Scraping like fingernails on rubber. Cause you know, clearly you are annoyed daily by that sound...
And there was Blue chowing down on the heel of my shoe. I would take a picture, but I left my camera at my in-laws. Likely story, I know.
And that was the last pair of shoes I have bought from the Bieber Lover and the Other Shoe Gang. And the last one I intend to buy.
I know, I know, the cost of gas driving to the shoe store plus the shoe prices and often sparse selection of non rubbery, non-velcro including shoes surely will cause me to eat my words. And you might be right. But I am officially on sabbatical from online shoe buying.
And also in the market for a rubber based toy for the dog. We are now down 1 pair of shoes and 2 garden hoses. Also a rug and 5 rubber balls. And a partridge in a pear tree.
Suggestions?
Our lack of Shoesday posts can be chalked up to one of two things.
1. We have had it up to HERE with the shoe cults, or
2. We are lazy.
I will take 1 AND 2 for the win Alex.
I haven't quit shoe clandom yet, but if I don't drink the kool-aid soon, I imagine they will off me sooner rather than later.
I bought a pair of shoes in July because I didn't follow the rules. Because the rules were so super clear shoe selling people! Which rule? The 5 days no takesies backsies even if you ask for a new selection pay up now bull crap. That rule. CoughNigerianScamCough. What, wrong country?
I thought I actually liked them. They went with outfits I didn't already have a designated shoe for.
I wore them to work twice and both times I came home with unfortunately putrid smelling wet feet nurturing blisters that resembled oil coated dead jelly fish in the Gulf. But I wanted to like them. I really did. So much that when I cleaned out my closet, (well let's just say I picked up the crap on the floor), I refrained from tossing them in the Give Away pile.
Then one evening as I recovered from a terribly hard day of playing on the interwebs and emailing Gina, as I stalked people through Facebook and watched a rerun of Bones for the 4th time, I heard this weird scraping sound. Scraping like fingernails on rubber. Cause you know, clearly you are annoyed daily by that sound...
And there was Blue chowing down on the heel of my shoe. I would take a picture, but I left my camera at my in-laws. Likely story, I know.
And that was the last pair of shoes I have bought from the Bieber Lover and the Other Shoe Gang. And the last one I intend to buy.
I know, I know, the cost of gas driving to the shoe store plus the shoe prices and often sparse selection of non rubbery, non-velcro including shoes surely will cause me to eat my words. And you might be right. But I am officially on sabbatical from online shoe buying.
And also in the market for a rubber based toy for the dog. We are now down 1 pair of shoes and 2 garden hoses. Also a rug and 5 rubber balls. And a partridge in a pear tree.
Suggestions?
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Funkified
I am in a funk. Not the Marky Mark Good Vibrations version that can be fixed with an emmy award winning choreographed dance number sung by teenagers about to enter regionals. A real funk.
Filled with an even and overflowing mix of tears and anger, iced with the occassional foul language threaded temper tantrum.
Fortunately, all of the above are playing out in the privacy of my head and not in the real world.
Other than my poor mood and bitter side comments, I have tried to keep my mini meltdown from the world.
Unfortunately, my egg shell is cracking. At least at home.
The good new is, it is a documented law of nature that when either Gina or I tip the emotional scale to either elation or depression, the other is firmly rocketed to the opposing side. So, I can only imagine, and am very thankful that Gina is having an extraordinary vacation where she is feeling waif like and getting a great tan.
I don't know how to snap out of this. But I do promise no more posting from me until I have found my way back to happy.
Filled with an even and overflowing mix of tears and anger, iced with the occassional foul language threaded temper tantrum.
Fortunately, all of the above are playing out in the privacy of my head and not in the real world.
Other than my poor mood and bitter side comments, I have tried to keep my mini meltdown from the world.
Unfortunately, my egg shell is cracking. At least at home.
The good new is, it is a documented law of nature that when either Gina or I tip the emotional scale to either elation or depression, the other is firmly rocketed to the opposing side. So, I can only imagine, and am very thankful that Gina is having an extraordinary vacation where she is feeling waif like and getting a great tan.
I don't know how to snap out of this. But I do promise no more posting from me until I have found my way back to happy.
Friday, May 7, 2010
How Much Do I Love Airports?
Warning: What you are about to read has been written out of frustration. Please bare with me, I know it is long.
While the rest of America focuses on health care reform, I am proposing reform in what is often perceived as the Country's largest cess pools: airports.
For my plan, let's call it the *Protection of the Sanity of Seasoned Travellers*, the benefits will extend not only to smart people like myself, Gina, and you, our readers, who, I assume are smart if only by association, but also to non-travellers, old people, and general douche bags. I am not saying old people are douches, please don't send me hate mail.
My proposal is as follows:
All airlines are to join a database in which every ticket purchased by traveller A is logged for a period of 5 years. When traveller A purchases a ticket, he is automatically placed into a particular security line (high speed, regular, remedial, leisure, family). If A has travelled extensively in the recent 6 month time period, he is automatically bumped to the high speed security line. If he has only travelled occassionally, he is sent to the regular security line. If traveller A is familiar with airport practices and is designated the regular security line, but feels he is qualified to move up to high speed, he must take a 5 question online quiz and present his 100% passing score to the check in agent in order to be allowed acces to high speed security line.
See, I understand that some people are perfectly capable of moving through airports with ease even though they may only fly occassionally. I am probably in this category, so I think a move up option should be available to those that deserve it. My quiz would be structured somewhere along the lines of:
A) Do you need your photo I.D. when entering the security line?
B) Do you need your boarding pass when passing through the metal detector?
C) Can the following items be worn through the metal detector without causing a line hold up? {Belt, jacket, shoes, wallet chain {wallet chains should be outlawed in general, but I will ignore it that fact for now}}
D) Is it permissable to send a laptop computer through the x-ray machine in a bucket with other items?
E) Can you enter the scanner prior to your bags being sent through the x-ray machine?
Then, if completed correctly, you must sign over your first born as a promise to abide by these rules. Till death do you part, except hopefully not brought about by a plane crash.
Other security categories would be determined based on flying history noted by previous check in times. If you continually arrive at the airport more than 2 hours prior to your scheduled departure (as noted by a time stamp at security) you are designated a liesure traveller and must pass through security in the leisure. (There may or may not be someone working the security line when you arrive, but you have plenty of time, feel free to hang out in the beach chairs provided in the liesure security line.) If you have never, rarely, or often fly but fail and continue to fail the high speed access quiz, you are sent through the remedial line. You are designated a helper who will ensure you get through security, but will likely yell at you until you either learn better or are further frightened of flying and decide to take only car trips and cruises from here on out.
And families of course get a line to themselves. I wouldn't leave you out, but seriously, you remember life before baby and how much easier it was to do things. In your own family line, it should be so much better! I think and I reserve the right to change my mind on this matter once I have children as well.
I think I have set forth a flawless plan to remedy the world from the complete aggravation of airport nightmares, on the human traveller side at least. I can say nothing about the airlines themselves other than they.all.have.problems.
Next month, I tackle steriods in sports and the BCS playoff issue. This congress doesn’t go on holiday.
I am officially running for President in 2020 assuming the whole end of the world 2012 debaucle blows over.
While the rest of America focuses on health care reform, I am proposing reform in what is often perceived as the Country's largest cess pools: airports.
For my plan, let's call it the *Protection of the Sanity of Seasoned Travellers*, the benefits will extend not only to smart people like myself, Gina, and you, our readers, who, I assume are smart if only by association, but also to non-travellers, old people, and general douche bags. I am not saying old people are douches, please don't send me hate mail.
My proposal is as follows:
All airlines are to join a database in which every ticket purchased by traveller A is logged for a period of 5 years. When traveller A purchases a ticket, he is automatically placed into a particular security line (high speed, regular, remedial, leisure, family). If A has travelled extensively in the recent 6 month time period, he is automatically bumped to the high speed security line. If he has only travelled occassionally, he is sent to the regular security line. If traveller A is familiar with airport practices and is designated the regular security line, but feels he is qualified to move up to high speed, he must take a 5 question online quiz and present his 100% passing score to the check in agent in order to be allowed acces to high speed security line.
See, I understand that some people are perfectly capable of moving through airports with ease even though they may only fly occassionally. I am probably in this category, so I think a move up option should be available to those that deserve it. My quiz would be structured somewhere along the lines of:
A) Do you need your photo I.D. when entering the security line?
B) Do you need your boarding pass when passing through the metal detector?
C) Can the following items be worn through the metal detector without causing a line hold up? {Belt, jacket, shoes, wallet chain {wallet chains should be outlawed in general, but I will ignore it that fact for now}}
D) Is it permissable to send a laptop computer through the x-ray machine in a bucket with other items?
E) Can you enter the scanner prior to your bags being sent through the x-ray machine?
Then, if completed correctly, you must sign over your first born as a promise to abide by these rules. Till death do you part, except hopefully not brought about by a plane crash.
Other security categories would be determined based on flying history noted by previous check in times. If you continually arrive at the airport more than 2 hours prior to your scheduled departure (as noted by a time stamp at security) you are designated a liesure traveller and must pass through security in the leisure. (There may or may not be someone working the security line when you arrive, but you have plenty of time, feel free to hang out in the beach chairs provided in the liesure security line.) If you have never, rarely, or often fly but fail and continue to fail the high speed access quiz, you are sent through the remedial line. You are designated a helper who will ensure you get through security, but will likely yell at you until you either learn better or are further frightened of flying and decide to take only car trips and cruises from here on out.
And families of course get a line to themselves. I wouldn't leave you out, but seriously, you remember life before baby and how much easier it was to do things. In your own family line, it should be so much better! I think and I reserve the right to change my mind on this matter once I have children as well.
I think I have set forth a flawless plan to remedy the world from the complete aggravation of airport nightmares, on the human traveller side at least. I can say nothing about the airlines themselves other than they.all.have.problems.
Next month, I tackle steriods in sports and the BCS playoff issue. This congress doesn’t go on holiday.
I am officially running for President in 2020 assuming the whole end of the world 2012 debaucle blows over.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Freaks & Whores High School
By Gina
I am planning my 10-year high school reunion. I don’t quite remember exactly how I became the reunion coordinator but I know it makes me want to stab people. Not just any people. I want to stab all these bitches I went to high school with. I mentioned before that I went to an all girls catholic high school. It was awful. And since there were no boys around to impress, I frequently went to school looking like a bag of trash – no makeup, no blow-drying of the hair, no plucking. It was gross, I know. And I know I am not making this all up in my head because I actually ran into a girl from high school about a year ago and she hugged me and said “Gina! You got pretty!!!” I am not sure her level of surprise was necessary.
Anyway, back to the Freaks & Whores High School reunion. We have a FB page for our reunion, which means I had to friend these bitches so I could invite them to this stupid page. I have set up meetings, asked for suggestions, and requested songs and pictures for a fucking slideshow. Aside from 2 girls who showed up to one of my meetings, I have gotten zero responses. Zero. Finally yesterday I had enough. On Monday I sent an email to all the members of FWHS Class of 2000 asking for mailing addresses so I could send them an invitation to a reunion that I don’t even want to go to. I got 20 responses out of 120. Now I sent this email over FB and, since FB is conducive to stalking, I couldn’t help but notice all these bitches got on FB to update their statuses. Here are a few examples:
“Can’t wait to go home and play with my baby! My baby is the light of my life! I want to cuddle with my baby!!! BABYBABYBABY Aaauuuggghhhh!!!!!” (Just so you know, I am not anti-baby. This chick literally updates her status about 14 times a day talking about how much she loves her baby. Dude, we get it. You love your baby. Congrats.)
“Tonight I am making roasted rosemary ribeyes, smoked gouda macaroni & cheese, sourdough bread and chocolate mousse!” (Holy shit, you have time to make all this crap on a random Tuesday and you can't respond to a five second email???)
“Please send me cows and pigs and chickens and fertilizer!!!” (Need I elaborate?)
So, since it was obvious that these hoes were ignoring me, I tried a different tactic. I sent a follow up email yesterday.
Ladies:
Thanks to the 20 of you who responded. For the rest of you, if you do not respond by this weekend, then I will assume you do not want to attend and will not send you an invitation. Thanks!
I’ll let you know how it goes. In the mean time, I am having a block when it comes to music I use to listen to in high school. I mean, I remember it was music that was awesome at the time and now embarrasses me, like Creed and Christina Aguilera. So I am asking you, my internet friends, please help me remember what horrible music was cool 10 years ago. This is me begging for comments.
I am planning my 10-year high school reunion. I don’t quite remember exactly how I became the reunion coordinator but I know it makes me want to stab people. Not just any people. I want to stab all these bitches I went to high school with. I mentioned before that I went to an all girls catholic high school. It was awful. And since there were no boys around to impress, I frequently went to school looking like a bag of trash – no makeup, no blow-drying of the hair, no plucking. It was gross, I know. And I know I am not making this all up in my head because I actually ran into a girl from high school about a year ago and she hugged me and said “Gina! You got pretty!!!” I am not sure her level of surprise was necessary.
Anyway, back to the Freaks & Whores High School reunion. We have a FB page for our reunion, which means I had to friend these bitches so I could invite them to this stupid page. I have set up meetings, asked for suggestions, and requested songs and pictures for a fucking slideshow. Aside from 2 girls who showed up to one of my meetings, I have gotten zero responses. Zero. Finally yesterday I had enough. On Monday I sent an email to all the members of FWHS Class of 2000 asking for mailing addresses so I could send them an invitation to a reunion that I don’t even want to go to. I got 20 responses out of 120. Now I sent this email over FB and, since FB is conducive to stalking, I couldn’t help but notice all these bitches got on FB to update their statuses. Here are a few examples:
“Can’t wait to go home and play with my baby! My baby is the light of my life! I want to cuddle with my baby!!! BABYBABYBABY Aaauuuggghhhh!!!!!” (Just so you know, I am not anti-baby. This chick literally updates her status about 14 times a day talking about how much she loves her baby. Dude, we get it. You love your baby. Congrats.)
“Tonight I am making roasted rosemary ribeyes, smoked gouda macaroni & cheese, sourdough bread and chocolate mousse!” (Holy shit, you have time to make all this crap on a random Tuesday and you can't respond to a five second email???)
“Please send me cows and pigs and chickens and fertilizer!!!” (Need I elaborate?)
So, since it was obvious that these hoes were ignoring me, I tried a different tactic. I sent a follow up email yesterday.
Ladies:
Thanks to the 20 of you who responded. For the rest of you, if you do not respond by this weekend, then I will assume you do not want to attend and will not send you an invitation. Thanks!
I’ll let you know how it goes. In the mean time, I am having a block when it comes to music I use to listen to in high school. I mean, I remember it was music that was awesome at the time and now embarrasses me, like Creed and Christina Aguilera. So I am asking you, my internet friends, please help me remember what horrible music was cool 10 years ago. This is me begging for comments.
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