I'm pissed, and not for the first time. I was promised snow, dammit, EPIC fucking levels of snow. First, the meteorologists said it was going to hit Wednesday, but then the cold front was moving so slowly they said it would hit us overnight on Thursday. This turned out to be true. HOWEVER, when I looked out my front door Thursday morning, after finding out all the schools had closed and hoping fervently that I could justify calling out from work, do you think this is what I saw?
Holy snow!
Or do you think I saw this:
I'll give you two guesses, and the first one doesn't count.
The first picture is the view after opening my door in December 2008, during one of the biggest snowstorms we've ever had during my lifetime (we don't get a lot of snow here. Rain? Yes. Snow? No.). The second picture is my front stoop Thursday morning. AFTER they closed all the area schools. What you see is less than one inch, and that's at my house in the East Valley. Closer in, it looked like this:
Wait, no. Sorry. That's 2008 again.
Yeah. Fear the frigidity.
I went into work, of course, thinking it would keep snowing (as the fuckers promised me it would) and I could leave early once it started to look like a justifiable reason to be home in my jammies. And then the shit all melted. It snowed several times during the day, with nothing to show at the end, and I got home and what do you think I found here? The 1/2" still on the ground, and the newspeople still flipping out about it. Assholes.
It just seems even more ridiculous (because they do this every year) after the epic blizzards that stormed the rest of the country this winter. I mean, fucking Texas was snowed out. And they're still gonna make a big deal about 1/2" of sticking snow? I'm done with you, meterologists of the PNW. You're dead to me.
I sit here today having just eaten a single slice of toast - and I'm regretting it.
You see, over the past few months I think I've narrowed down the cause of my frequently rumbly tum - and it's wheat.
Yes, it looks innocent enough, but beware - it is a thing of the devil!
Now I know that this may resonate with more than one of you here, since I recently had a conversation on Twitter with a few others about it. I was shocked to find how widespread an intolerance to wheat actually is.
I don't think it's gluten per se that's the problem. I just think it's wheat - or anything containing wheat for that matter. Slowly but surely, I've tried to eliminate it from my diet and I do believe that I've been proven right. But that doesn't make it any easier to handle... I mean, look at the list of foodstuffs I should be avoiding:
wheat, wheat berries, wheat bran, wheat germ, wheat grass or any form of the word wheat
flour, bread, cakes and cookies
semolina, pasta, couscous, tabbouleh
doughnuts, pies, pretzels and other baked goods
gnocchi, chow mein
snack foods
soups, gravies and thickened sauces
breaded meats or vegetables, dumplings or meatballs (no fried chicken for me!)
salad dressings, Worcesteshire sauce and other condiments
beer (say what???)
Recently, I happened to mention my discovery to my GP, in the hope that he might be able to suggest a cure (stop sniggering). He launched into this big spiel of how I would need to go back to eating wheat for about six weeks before having a rather invasive test (yeeuuuww!) and then explained that - should the test prove positive - it would indicate that I am, in fact, wheat intolerant (no shit Sherlock!). When I then asked what the treatment would be, he looked down nervously at his prescription pad and mumbled something about 'diet'.
So, let me get this straight. First you want to make me eat wheat-laden foods which I happen to know will have me in agony for the next six weeks. Then you plan to poke about in places I care not to mention in order to get a 'sample' (yeeuuuww again!). And finally, if all of your torture proves my self-diagnosis correct, the only thing you're going to suggest is that I don't eat wheat? Um, hello? Isn't that what I'm doing already?
Errr, that would be a resounding "No!"
Needless to say I have declined to be tested. What's the point? And in the meantime, if I feel the urge to eat the odd slice of toast (when I really, really crave some comfort food), I'll do it with my eyes wide open to the fact that I will - indeed - probably regret it once it's been devoured. Oh, and I'll make sure there's a bathroom close by to deal with the aftermath.
Seriously, thankgawd I have a place to come [aside from twitter] to bitch and whine. Speaking of wine, I have had 3 small glasses thank you very much. Technically, two...in the grand scheme of things. But who's counting?
Anyhoo, I had a shitty day. I got to work, optimistic as ever, cheery as a cheerio [are they cheery? Fuck if I know] and my day is moving along great...until a restaurant we work with eff'd up. I had a VERY important client meeting booked in their private room. Low and behold they double booked the room. Really? I called to confirm the date was a go, I changed the status to definite when I sent out t-holds, I even sent you the damn BEO. 2 hours later and 3 days prior to the event, you decide to tell me the girl that is recently "no longer with you," booked something while I had it on hold... AND she failed to mention this when I called to confirm it was a go. I have a signed contract with my client... FUCK YOU. Ok fine, I get it. I know people mess up. But today? When I was feeling all confident and smooth...when I was thinking this week was under control. When I was all stoked for to see Mr. MOS on Sat, when I was excited about my birthday, even though I have to work late and can't do anything fun... You made me look like an ASS. And, after my boss argued with you for a good 20 minutes, you still decide to keep the group of 20 that was booked AFTER my group... You do this even after you called us months ago bitching and whining because you don't get enough business. Times WERE tough asshole, but business is picking up now and this is when you decide to screw us over?!? Lovely. See if you get more business from us.
I'm about ready to. PS....you scare me Ronald.
Thankfully the problem was solved.... But guess what...about an hour after said problem was solved, I started to get that feeling you get BEFORE you get a sore throat. You know the one? Where you gland on one side feels a little off, then starts to feel like a tiny rock, then starts to feel a bit swollen. YUP. Damn you germs!
Yah, I'm talking to you.
I am dead serious when I say that I have not had the flu since1999. Now I consider the flu to be in bed, fever, feel like you're dying kind of illness. Some people consider it a cold. Waah, get over yourselves. Sure I have had sore throats (that seems to be a recurring symptom when I'm sick) and I have had colds and coughs...but that's it. In fact, the last time I had a cold was over a year ago. True fact. I did have a minor stomach flu about 8 mos ago...no puking though!
Anyhoo, it's just a very very minor sore throat. It could be nothing. It could be gone in the morning. I could have give RPattz too much head....BUT SERIOUSLY, I CANNOT GET SICK RIGHT NOW. Why not?
1. I have a huge, expensive event at the Hard Rock Hotel on Thursday night. Along with about 10 other minor dinners Wed & Thurs night (stuff I have booked)
2. My birthday is Wednesday.
3. 100 Monkeys is Sat.
In regards to #3, I'd have to be practically dying to not go. Trust. I figure IF I am getting sick, I should be on the upswing by Sat right?
Well, there's no way I can top TwiKiwi50's post - especially since mine is NOT going to have a happy ending. However, in the spirit of true whining, I hope you'll join me on this journey...
This past week has been a bit of a pain in the proverbials, to be honest. It kind of all started when I had three days off work at the beginning of the month due to a chest infection, and then spent all of last Friday catching up on unread emails and jobs that needed doing in the office. At the time I thought nothing of the fact that my internet connection was acting suspiciously...
Okay, so this is NOT what I want to see...
This week, however, it intrigued me. On Monday morning I arrived at work, logged on, checked urgent emails and diary appointments, then turned to my second PC and clicked the normal buttons that allow me to circumnavigate the firewall (required behaviour, if you don't want everything you do to be monitored by our rather dubious Security Manager). I then launched Internet Explorer (yes, we're quite traditional where I work) and clicked on my Google icon. Result: Nothing. Nada. Zilch. It simply would not load.
Cue much wailing and gnashing of teeth from my side of the office...
Why the f*ck can't I get logged on? I need to check my Twittah Feed!
On Tuesday, I tried again. With the same result...
On Wednesday we had a team meeting. Item 3 on the agenda was an update from the Systems team (I work in Applications...). "So," our manager announces. "Marshall has successfully been replaced by Bloxx and will be used company-wide from now on. Marshall is being decommissioned today."
What? WHAT?!!! Why wasn't I given any notice??? (For those of you who may not know: Marshall and Bloxx are super-strength web-filtering options adopted by companies to protect them from virus attacks and inappropriate surfing.)
Now, I may not be the most important person in our office (far from it!), but I had at least hoped I'd be given the opportunity to prepare myself for this gross infringement of my human rights. I mean, how else am I supposed to check on my watched blogs, update my own blog (and this one!) and generally participate in the fandom / twitterverse if I Can't. Bloody. Get. Online???
To cut a long, frustrated story short, my surfing habits at work have now been drastically curtailed. I quickly check my emails, log on to Seesmic [hehehe, they haven't yet realised that I can still access Twitter via a web client :-) ] and that's about the size of it. All blogs are blocked (b*st*rds!) and I can't even contemplate accessing Tumblr, given some of the accounts I follow.... All of my movements are logged. Frankly, it sucks, big time.
God. There are times I wish I was a cat. Even a LolCat.
Thank you so much for listening. Please don't hold it against me if I don't reply to your comment immediately. It'll only be because I don't have the freedom to do so...
This started off as a class A whine, about eight hours ago. And then it morphed into something massive. No need for preamble, I'll just get on with it.
This morning I send this email to as many twitards as I could immediately access email addresses for. [Side note: if I didn't email you and I have your address, I feel bad. Take a ticket and queue up to whine...]
From: TwiKiwi50 To: [many] Subject: OMFG
Laideeeeees, I had a minor freak out this morning and I just need to share, mkay? So, yesterday I set the Robtastic WFE poster as my wallpaper on my work computer. I tend to keep all things twi on the DL at work, so this was kinda big for me.
This morning, my new team member, who doesn't know me very well yet (apart from the fact that I'm a fuckawesome boss) says to me "who's that then?" as she wanders by nonchalantely. Let me take a step back - she just moved to NZ from London where she lived in the city and worked in a major hospital.
So I'm all "it's Rob, everyone's favourite vampire. I kinda have a little thing for him" LIES LIES LIES it's a full blown obsession... but anyway...
She then proceeds to tell me that she used to work with Marcus Foster's mother, who invited her out to Ivy one night to hear a band, casually mentioning that Marcus and Rob were gonna be there. Here's the crusher:
She. Did. Not. Go.
WTMFF people???? So yeah, I picked my jaw up off the floor, and tried to calm my heartrate.
I am SO two degrees from Rob now, right? Shame I'm on the other side of the fucking world.
Are you wondering who Marcus Foster is right now? As 17foreverLisa will have you know, he's a Brit-pack member, BFFs with Rob, Sam, Tom et al. He's a pic I just stole:
So, here I am, feeling pretty fucking deflated. She didn't even seem to GET that this was a big deal. I'm torn though, don't wanna out myself too much at this early stage in our working relationship. Sure, she'll know more when I've been to the US for four weeks and talk about what I did, but right now, needed to reign in the hysteria.
Here's the cool part. I then spent the best part of the next five hours LAUGHING MY ARSE OFF at the email comments. As I type, there have been something like 68 replies. Many irrelevant to the original topic (Garden hoes, LKW & JJ?) but what follows are some selected highlights.
This is a PERFECT example of why I love my twitard family so much. You made me happy throughout an otherwise fuckawful boring work day.
Jaymes805 - "Fire her immediately".
TwiLoveSue - "I say kill her, assume her identity, and then fly back to London to see what you can do to salvage the situation :) Thanks for sharing!"
17foreverLisa - "Hold up, people. She STILL knows Marcus Foster's mother. This could STILL be useful. She's bound to visit London and need to take her new BFF with her, right?!!"
CougarChloe - "I am shocked, disgusted and jealous, all at the same time. Oh. Fuck. My head / heart don't even know which way to turn right now. Gah! How DARE she have lived in London - and worked in those circles - and NOT taken advantage? She clearly doesn't have a single usable brain cell and ought to be annihilated forthwith."
LatchKeyWife - "So... how did you not punch that dumb bitch in the throat for being so incredibly stupid. STUPID! I mean to be soooo close, and yet so FAR away! She doesn't deserve to even ever look at a picture of Rob. I think most of us would probably sell a fucking kidney to get that close to that beautiful little shit. I know I would. Fuck, I'd sell 'em both."
Me - IKR?? She's lucky to be alive. I keep thinking - I lived in London for 3 fucking years. At the same time as Rob. Shame I had no idea..... I left in 2006. A little premature [twss].
LivingWEdward - "She's a lesbian."
Smitten - "She didn't go?! Seriously? I just don't get it. At. All. Did you hire a crazy person? OMG you guys killed me with your comments! LMAO."
JennyJerkface - "I am snorting all over the place. Guy next to me looks frightened as hell. These comments are freaking PRICELESS, people. Seriously. Oh, and you should fire her. Just Sayin..."
MusingBella - "Now, I'm cracking up (as usual) from all the hilarious commentary here. I agree with those who support taking advantage. At the VERY LEAST, she could get you autographs and memorabilia! I'd make sure you bring it up in her first review. Or, you know, kill her for being a dumb bitch. ;)"
LatchKeyWife - "I'm still fuming over the pure stupidity of TwiKiwi's coworker. I often berate myself for not making a set stalking trip to NYC when he was filming Remember Me! Although chances are, I would've ended up being arrested for attempted kidnapping."
DangrDafne - "The guy who drove us in Italy last year, his best friend was the driver for Rob once during New Moon filming. He had no idea why all the women were screaming and attacking the van LOL!!!"
ZAnyMouse - "Omg, all your comments are just killing me! Before you fire her ass for being incompetent and not opportunistic, we should all get Marcus Foster masks and do a flash mob dance outside of her office. Ladies, get your flannel ready…"
LuvsMeSumEdward - "So I think we can all agree that bitch is dumb for not going when given the chance of a lifetime to be in such close proximity to the pretty!"
Mrs P - "Sorry I'm late to this party but I was busy banging Marcus Foster's mother's laundry basket. I took one for the team."
LivingWEdward - "Mrs P, british people don't use laundry baskets. I'm pretty sure they don't even wash their clothes. Have you learned nothing from Rob?"
Me - What have I created with these emails? "You're ALIVE!" .... jeez. You bitches have kept me entertained for a good four hours of my work day with these shenanigans. Mrs P - laundry basket - laughing so hard that said offending team member asked me what was up. If only she knew.
JennyJerkface - "TwiKiwi - just tell the coworker the truth. There is now a 54+ comment email chain about her and she's managed to keep women all over the world immensely entertained. Actually, never mind. Don't do that."
[Sorry about the rainbow that just threw up in here. I had to differentiate, people]
Seriously. You couldn't write better comedy! I really hope this isn't turning into an "I guess you had to be there" story... sorry if it is!
In the midst, Lisa offers this lil' gem. Let's take a moment to appreciate:
There are no words.
Wipe off your drool and come back to me now. In closing, I have some awards to offer:
All time best comment of the day goes to LivingWEdward for "She's a lesbian". Gigglesnort.
Second best comment of the day: Mrs P - laundry basket. There's a Demanda shoutout in there somewhere.
Most snort-your-tea-out-your-nose brilliant suggestion goes to ZAnyMouse for the flashmob suggestion. I'll get to work on the masks right away.
And finally, most ridiculously irrelevant to the original point but wonderful none the less comment goes to TexasKatherine, directed to LKW and JJ for their misuse of grammar: "Holy lord, are either of you 2 familiar with the English language? Please use some lube next time you want to anal rape grammar that way."
LMFAO.
Aaaand, that is all. So yeah, started with a whine, ended with a belly laugh. I flove you guys.
Here's some Marcus & Sam for your watching pleasure. Yep, I'm still not sure which is which. Don't tell Lisa I said that.
So today is really nice out, and by "really nice" I mean it's not snowing or sleeting, and the heavens are not throwing ice spears at me. Sad what passes for nice weather this time of year but the sun also made a brief appearance. I do miss the sun.
Not to mention it's actually above freezing, the temperature is sitting pretty at 45 degrees. It's not 70, but it's not 20 either, so I'll take it. By the way I hate that anything above 40 now seems warm to me. Of course due to said temperature, the trees are dropping lots of ice from their branches, but I think if I wear a hard hat when I venture outdoors, I'll be ok.
What goes through the mind of a crazy exercise fanatic on a day like this? Go for a walk-outside-of course! (Note: I'm not really an exercise fanatic, per se, but who in their right mind thinks to exercise outside in the middle of winter but exercise fanatics? Right?) So I headed out down my street. Lovely...
In case I didn't mention, I live in the woods, at the end of a dead end road, surrounded by farmlands. I like the privacy, and it's really peacful, yet only ten minutes from civilization and thirty from Baltimore. I really like it, most of the time, which brings me to what's got me all worked up today. Well, halfway through that lovely walk, down my dead end road, I was greeted by this...
WTF? Who dumps a disgusting old mattress on the side of the road? Seriously? And if they went through all the trouble of loading said disgusting mattress onto a truck, or more likely the roof of a beat up old car, why not drive the extra ten minutes to dispose of it properly... in the freaking dump? There really is a dump within ten minutes, I promise. It just baffles me, truly baffling. I guess my privacy is another's illegal dumping ground. Great!
Naturally on my way back I had to stop for a photo. And as I click away, burning this moment forever into my brain, what do I think about? What if said mattress is hiding something, like say a dead fucking body? I really am a bit disturbed.
As many of you know, TH and I moved into a new place in early November. For those of you who don't know, a brief history: TH had been laid off two years ago (at Christmastime - Merry Christmas, everyone), making us a one-income household. He's gone back to school and has a super-parttime (like, 10-15 hours a week, sometimes more) job that helps, for sure, but basically I support us and we couldn't afford the mortgage at our condo on just my income once his unemployment benefits ran out, and - long story short (so I can get to ranting) - we signed our condo back to the bank through a deed-in-lieu-of-foreclosure agreement that we submitted in December 2010. I wanted to be out of the house before the paperwork went through, and, lo and behold, one of our friends was moving out of his townhouse duplex on October 31st, so we snapped it up.
I probably should have known from the get-go that something wasn't right, there were some red flags that I ran right by in my haste to move. For one thing, the management company wouldn't meet with us to show us any property on a weekend. They were only available during office hours and, well, I also work in an office, and was out of vacation time, so that wasn't working for me. Luckily (I thought at the time), we knew the current tenant and he would show it to us on a weekend. So we came over and looked at the place, and it seemed perfect: more room than we had, more than one bathroom, a pretty decent neighborhood, the price was right - it all seemed like it was just falling into place. I was super excited!
So we moved in.
Pantry - yay!
My living room - although we have a different couch now
Upstairs is where the magic happens
Well, let me back up. We met with the management company representative to sign the papers, and she did not do the walkthrough with us. First, we had huge problems scheduling and I had to leave work early one day (thank God my boss understood) because, as stated before, these people only keep office hours, so she wouldn't meet us any later than 4pm. What a fucking pain in the ass. But we complied, and then all this girl did was meet us, give us our keys, sign papers with us, and tell us to e-mail her a list of whatever problems we noticed when we did the walkthrough. Alone. This struck me as odd, but I was trying to be positive and I was determined that this would be a good move for us (since it was necessary and all), so we did the walkthrough by ourselves. The first thing I noticed was that the place was filthy. Nothing had been cleaned. There wasn't garbage anywhere, and the walls were freshly painted downstairs, but if you looked at the countertops, the carpets, the windowsills, or - God forbid - inside the refrigerator (*hurls*), it was clear no effort had been made to clean the place. So, that wasn't great.
I mobilized my task force (read: in-laws), and instead of beginning to move that night, we scoured the place. The in-laws have a carpet cleaning machine - one of those steam cleaners - and they brought it over and TH and his Dad did the carpets, while my MIL and I cleaned the downstairs: kitchen and bathroom, mostly. I kick myself that I didn't take pictures first, but my goal was just to get it clean so I could move our stuff in.
That done, I texted our friend who had just moved out - let's call him G, going forward in this - and gave him shit for how filthy his house was. He was appalled that they hadn't cleaned it and let slip that although the landlord had a management company, he liked to do all the stuff himself - which reminded me that the management company rep had said they'd been here until 11pm the day before we signed, cleaning and painting. Well, I'll give her "painting."
The next morning, the in-laws came over to keep cleaning while TH and I got the movers situated and they loaded up our belongings at the old condo. When we made it back over here, MIL mentioned that the kitchen sink water pressure was total crap and the upstairs toilet ran for awhile after being flushed. I added those items to my list of things to mention to the management company, and we continued moving in.
I sent off the list, with a request that the water pressure (which is only shitty in the kitchen faucet - the sprayer and all the rest of the faucets are fine) and the upstairs toilet be looked at. About a month later, after repeated requests for response to the maintenance guy, the landlord himself showed up and looked at both things and declared there was nothing to be done. The kitchen faucet? "That's just how the pressure is." The toilet that hisses for two minutes after flushing and fills soooo slowly, despite being lo-flow? "That's just filling slowly, it's not broken." The one helpful thing he did tell me (although I didn't ask) was that the big cylinder in my bedroom closet is a water heater. Yeah, no shit. I guess I look like a girl who doesn't know what the fuck a water heater is, because I could have sworn I wanted him to come over to fix WATER PRESSURE problems, not to explain to me what normal household items are. It was so bizarre. Also? Way to be prompt when I have a problem. At least he's the one who pays the water bill.
OK, so I was irritated, but whatever. The dishwasher works, and the sprayer works, and I can live with shitty water pressure and a running toilet, now that I know what the water heater looks like. FML.
Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago. TH and I are sitting in the living room, minding our own business, when I notice this:
That, friends, is the smoke detector hanging out of the ceiling. Hey, no worries, you're saying to yourself, just put it back into the ceiling. Ah, but that was our thought, too, and that made it begin to chirp. As common knowledge dictates, when a smoke alarm chirps, you change the battery. So I did, and the chirping stopped. Until I tried to put it back into the ceiling again, and then it started back up. And wouldn't stop. So TH disconnected the whole thing, thinking we'd put a dud of a battery in it, and the next day I bought a completely new battery, and did the whole dance all over again with the same result: incessant chirping. Have you seen the Friends episode where Phoebe can't get the smoke alarm to shut up? It was like that.
This was me.
So I bit the bullet and e-mailed the management company again, as well as logging the issue in great detail on their "helpful" online maintenance reporting form. A day passed. Nothing. So I e-mailed the maintenance guy directly again. His response?
It sounds like the battery is likely dead and needs to be replaced. It is the tenants responsibility to replace these when they expire. If you replace it and there is still chirping, then let us know. Most of these detectors take 9v batteries.
My response:
No, I replaced the battery. Twice. It seems to only chirp when reinserted into the ceiling. The original issue is that it fell out of the ceiling and just hangs there. I take it my entry through your online system didn't come through? It was more detailed.
Basically, we noticed the thing had fallen out of its holder and was hanging by its cords from the ceiling. When we tried to reaffix it to the holder, it began chirping, so I replaced the battery and it didn't stop chirping when we put it back. The next day I bought a brand new battery and put that one into it. The only way to keep it from chirping is to let it hang out as shown in the picture I sent you. I can just leave it like that, I don't care. You should just know that it's a faulty unit.
Thanks.
Their response? Well, they forwarded it to the landlord. This is the most useless management company in the world. And I don't understand the purpose of having a management company if you won't let them do anything except collect the rent! I mean, he won't let them resolve maintenance requests or clean the house in between tenants. Why employ them at all? How hard is the rent collection aspect?
(Click to go to the video - and if you haven't seen this, you need to)
So I e-mailed them and asked sweetly if I should just not bother them in the future and instead take any problems directly to the landlord, since he seemed so "hands on." They did not respond to that.
I resorted once again to texting G and asking if he had ever had this problem. He told me the thing would chirp for 24 hours after having the battery replaced and then you could put it back. And, of course, that worked. I was able, since it had been a few days since the original problems and subsequent battery replacements, to reinsert the thing into the ceiling without a problem. I let the management company know, and all they had to say in response was to ask if I had pushed the test button to make sure. So I didn't respond to that.
Apparently, they've had me pegged as an idiot for some reason. I'm pretty sure I've now also given myself the distinction of "difficult." I've had enough. I won't be contacting them again unless there's something I can't fix, so let's hope that doesn't happen.
Last weekend, the upstairs toilet seat cracked in half. TH said, "Call the management company..." I said, "Look how well white duct tape fixes that!" (Also - tangent - why do *I* have to call them? He's on the lease, too.) Game on, management company. You fucked over the wrong tenant. And since G didn't get his deposit back despite the fact that he caused no damage and just neglected to clean the place, I'm figuring we won't get ours back, either, no matter what we do.
So, out of the frying pan and into the fire. At least I have a pantry and 1.5 bathrooms! And I know what that great big thing in the closet is, thank goodness.
