FW: Angry and Naked!
I have a theory that the internet was created for three purposes:
Whatever other positive uses of the web might rise to the fore, I truly believe that when the vast majority of people come online, their efforts are geared towards one of these activities. You can even combine them:
- An email angry about the evils of porn online
- An email angry about the lack of free porn online
- An email with a photo of an angry naked person
- An email angry that someone sent a naked photo
- An email angry that someone did not send a naked photo
The possibilities are endless, really.
Now that I’ve made this statement, you might be getting a bit excited, thinking that I’m going to put up some naked photos or send you an email.
Alas, no.
By default, then, I present to you my list of ‘Things That Are Irking Me Right Now’, in an effort to get in touch with my personal web-angst.
IRKS.
Today, I am composing this missive in the very Starbucks I used to work at, in a rather prosperous part of Vancouver. It’s been years since I was employed here, but I still recognize a significant portion of the clientele. And since I look pretty much the same as I did when I was in my early twenties, said clientele also recognizes me. This might've been fun, but I've now been spotted by a group of old men that used to come in every day (and sit for five hours sipping a single cup of coffee). Currently, they are about eight feet away from me complaining audibly that I should ‘know this was their table’. They aren’t asking me to move, they did show up almost an hour after I did, and they are comfortably ensconced at another table. Apparently, however, I’m in the doghouse for not responding to their passive-aggressive claim on my seating. Truth be told, I’d move if they asked. I’d offer to move if they even said ‘hi!’. But this is bringing out my stubbornness. I am big on politeness, no matter how old you are. I realize I’m no Rosa Parks, but I’ll be damned if I will budge for old farts who have forgotten how to be gentlemen!
(Update: I did move. I also can't write while people stare at me. Funny thing, a friend was just telling me yesterday about watching a group of old men in a bar jump up to pull out chairs and behave solicitously to a group of young women that sauntered into the joint. Well, let me tell you...if those girls had come across these men, they'd likely have told them that all the chairs were reserved! I think I realize now what the issue might have been; after two years of serving the crusty codgers, they simply ceased to see me as anything but a green-aproned slave to their whims. And despite the fact that I haven't worked here in ages, and I'm not wearing an apron, they defaulted immediately to whiny customer mode. I wish I'd just fallen asleep at the table for a few hours or some such thing, maybe drooled a bit. But you know and I know....I'm just not that snarky.)
My keyboard sucks. Not in an ergonomically dysfunctional kind of way, but just in a "what the hell?!" kind of way. My vowels either double-fire, or don't fire at all (oooh, that sounds uncomfortable), and my shift key only works a good 40% of the time. I'm not one for typos, even when I'm doing entry at a solid clip. But with this keyboard, it appears to be inevitable that I will be wearing out the backspace key next! Here, for your perusal, what my typing would look like, except for honest typos, if I didn't backspace every ten seconds:
GAH! You know what? I went to do a demonstration of the above issues, thinking that what came out would be exceptionally mockable, and lo and behold, my keyboard worked. Miraculously. Until I stopped trying to do a demo sentence. Now it's crap again. That is ALWAYS the way! You go to show someone how useless and messed up your laptop/phone/PDA/boyfriend is, and WHAT THE HECK, they actually function acceptably for the duration of the observation period. Sigh.
Why are neon colours back? Santayana was right: those who cannot learn from history are doomed to repeat it. DOOMED. That's not overstating the point, I assure you.
I keep being startled by my own dangly earrings tickling the side of my neck. This causes me to jerk to the side repeatedly, so instead of appearing cool and fun with my sassy accessories, I appear to have Tourette's. Good thing I keep yelling swear words, too....I think everyone is buying it.
Almost daily, I step on an unplugged plug, or the zipper pulls of jackets or bags left on the floor. Besides hot coals, porcupines, jellyfish and broken glass, I can't think of two things more hideous to step on than small, poky metal objects that leave their mark on your poor abused sole (and soul!). Just this morning, I trod on my blow dryer plug, the plug from my roommate's straightening iron, the zipper pull from my other roommate's bag, and the zipper from a sweater sticking out from under my bed. I think I have magnets on my feet. Or perhaps just faint 'YKK' impressions here and there.
2:14:37 PM 
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