I really hate people who have email signatures. Now, I'm not talking about professional email signatures. On my professional email, I have a signature with my name, title, business address, phone number and logo. Those signatures serve a purpose.
I'm talking about people with email signatures on their personal email. The ones with quotes like "Be The Change You Want To See In The World" and "Carpe Diem" or "anyothercompletelyoverusedquote".
I especially hate when someone has an email signature when they REPLY to an email. If you write back and forth 10 times, then that is 10 times you have to see that God forsaken quote. If they have a stupid animated picture of a cat waving its paw at you then you might as well just shoot me in the face.
I once knew someone who had an email signature that was simply:
Cheers,
Pretentious Douche*
*names have been changed to protect the douchebags
Really? You had to have that as a set email signature? You couldn't take the 3 seconds it takes to type that and just manually type it out when you email someone? Was it that complex? Was your time just too valuable?
I just don't understand. I feel that these people must think they are so profound and so deep with their quotes. That they're the first person to think of using it this way. Or that maybe people will think they are so cool and that they'll be known for their ironic quote or witty catchphrase sign off.
Please. Get off your high horse. Or Gandhi.
I think these people should be forced to self medicate or go through extensive therapy. Obviously something is missing in their lives.
Maybe its love. Maybe its some deep seeded daddy issues.
Maybe they just need more cat food.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Sunday, January 9, 2011
I'm a grownup?
I've never felt like a grownup. Since I've been one anyways.
When I was younger I always felt like a grownup. I always felt 17 going on 45. I was always more comfortable with people older than me. People my age always seemed so immature. I rarely dated anyone my age. Even as I got older, so did my choices in friends. In my late teens and early twenties, my closest friends were all well over 30. I was never a crazy party girl and I preferred more grown up get togethers. Now in my late twenties and getting ready to approach 30 myself, all of my friends are already well into their thirties and more. I just feel more comfortable there.
However, that has a downside. That I always feel like the child. Though I feel more mature than those my age, I feel very immature now and then with my older friends. There are times conversations will be had and I won't understand the topic because it was before my time or I won't get the reference. It may involve things I haven't experienced yet. So I get a laugh and a smile and someone saying "Oh you're so young". But I don't feel young.
I don't feel that my life will feel any different when I'm 30. I've always felt that age anyways. I think I was born in the wrong decade.
A close friend once told me I had an old soul. I like to think that has a beauty to it.
I always feel like I'm asking permission with my older coworkers or friends. Though sometimes I feel awkward when I have to give direction to those older than me. Trying to maintain that respect but be assertive. Does that even make sense?
When I was 18 I moved out in the middle of my senior year and got my own apartment. I felt too independent. When I was 20 I moved to New York where I knew no one. Now at 28 I feel I've found my home in Los Angeles and a career. It is so weird to feel like I have a career. I've never had that before. I've always had "jobs" and always excelled in the business side of things.
I never finished my college degree because I couldn't figure out what I wanted. My creative side wanted my art degree. My rational side wanted more money. My musical side wanted me to never go back to college and to focus on singing. My rational side wanted stability. It wanted health insurance. It wanted "stuff".
I've now realized that all of my jobs have ended up in managerial positions dealing with the business and marketing end of things. That is where I've excelled. That has helped me decide to go back to school and finish my degree in business. Its what I'm good at.
I haven't played in a band in 9 months. I think I'm too old.
When I was younger I always felt like a grownup. I always felt 17 going on 45. I was always more comfortable with people older than me. People my age always seemed so immature. I rarely dated anyone my age. Even as I got older, so did my choices in friends. In my late teens and early twenties, my closest friends were all well over 30. I was never a crazy party girl and I preferred more grown up get togethers. Now in my late twenties and getting ready to approach 30 myself, all of my friends are already well into their thirties and more. I just feel more comfortable there.
However, that has a downside. That I always feel like the child. Though I feel more mature than those my age, I feel very immature now and then with my older friends. There are times conversations will be had and I won't understand the topic because it was before my time or I won't get the reference. It may involve things I haven't experienced yet. So I get a laugh and a smile and someone saying "Oh you're so young". But I don't feel young.
I don't feel that my life will feel any different when I'm 30. I've always felt that age anyways. I think I was born in the wrong decade.
A close friend once told me I had an old soul. I like to think that has a beauty to it.
I always feel like I'm asking permission with my older coworkers or friends. Though sometimes I feel awkward when I have to give direction to those older than me. Trying to maintain that respect but be assertive. Does that even make sense?
When I was 18 I moved out in the middle of my senior year and got my own apartment. I felt too independent. When I was 20 I moved to New York where I knew no one. Now at 28 I feel I've found my home in Los Angeles and a career. It is so weird to feel like I have a career. I've never had that before. I've always had "jobs" and always excelled in the business side of things.
I never finished my college degree because I couldn't figure out what I wanted. My creative side wanted my art degree. My rational side wanted more money. My musical side wanted me to never go back to college and to focus on singing. My rational side wanted stability. It wanted health insurance. It wanted "stuff".
I've now realized that all of my jobs have ended up in managerial positions dealing with the business and marketing end of things. That is where I've excelled. That has helped me decide to go back to school and finish my degree in business. Its what I'm good at.
I haven't played in a band in 9 months. I think I'm too old.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
My wisdom teeth were not wise enough
I'm 28 years old and had all 4 of my wisdom teeth removed 7 days ago. Why? Because I'm crazy and an idiot at the same time.
When I was 18 I was told by a dentist that my wisdom teeth were growing in horizontally instead of vertically and I needed to get them removed by a surgeon right away. Did I mention I was 18? That means I was invincible, knew more than any dentist and had important things to do. I just graduated high school and was setting off on a road trip to college. I had no time for things like this. Not to mention I didn't have insurance and I never told my parents. They would have marched my butt right into the surgeons chair otherwise. So, I ignored the warning.
A few years ago I started to get horrible pain whenever I ate on the right side of my mouth. Pain that should have forced me to start dropping pounds since there were so many foods I could now no longer eat. Some how I found a way to still shove that food in my mouth, thus no weight loss. I didn't have insurance so I couldn't afford to go to the dentist. I assumed it was a cavity, since I'd never had one, and just figured I'd take care of it eventually.
Two years ago my girlfriend was tired of hearing me complain day after day, and seeing me in constant agony, so she took me to a dentist for an emergency appointment. The good news was, no cavity. The bad news, my wisdom teeth did grow in crooked and one of them, on the painful side, was growing in horizontally and tearing at the roots of my molars. Ouchies.
He also said I needed to see a surgeon right away. Still no insurance so I left with an xray of my screwed up teeth and went back to normal.
I recently got a real job with grown up things like insurance. First thing I did the day my insurance cards came in the mail was go to the dentist. It had gotten worse, since it's been 10 years, and now they would have to remove small pieces of my jawbone as well. Good news is I still don't have any cavities. Do I get an award or something? A month later, I had the surgery. That was 7 days ago.
After the surgery I was hopped up on pain medication so I was wheeled out to the car in a wheelchair, since my legs wouldn't work, and plopped down in the seat next to my loving girlfriend. She informs me that for the next hour, I told her I couldn't feel my tongue (I was touching my chin while I told her this important information) and I made her touch it to ensure it was still in my mouth. I also refused to put my hand down. I got in the car and raised my hand in the air. She put my hands in my lap but I raised it again and told her, "It's more comfortable like this." I also said the phrase "Oh man" about 1,000 times. At some point in the car ride I started crying because I swore there was something in my mouth that was trying to go down my throat and cut off my breathing. The whole time she held my hand and put up with my craziness. She's a keeper that one.
Throughout the next few days, my face swelled up like a squirrel with cheeks full of acorns. My girl's favorite question to me over these days was, "What are you hiding in those cheeks?" Everyday she told me how cute and beautiful I was, even though I know I looked like I was morbidly obese and this was the future of my face if I didn't stop eating so much crap. I recommend this surgery for kick starting any weight loss plan.
I now look like I got punched in the face because of a giant bruise on the side of my jaw. But the swelling is going down. Now I just look fat. I've caught up on a lot of reading, TV and video games. Very important stuff I had been putting off. Not to mention the fact that my girlfriend showed how devoted she is to me in sickness and in health. Did I mention she's a keeper? Putting a ring on that finger as soon as some heterosexual judge gives me the go ahead.
All in all, I'm glad I did the grown up thing. It probably would have been better to do it at 18 but too late now. I've been out of work for the last week and am praying I still have a desk when I go back. I've learned Vicodin makes me terribly sleepy and that I really like jello. Like, whoa. And I learned that doctors are smarter than 18 year olds.
Who knew?
When I was 18 I was told by a dentist that my wisdom teeth were growing in horizontally instead of vertically and I needed to get them removed by a surgeon right away. Did I mention I was 18? That means I was invincible, knew more than any dentist and had important things to do. I just graduated high school and was setting off on a road trip to college. I had no time for things like this. Not to mention I didn't have insurance and I never told my parents. They would have marched my butt right into the surgeons chair otherwise. So, I ignored the warning.
A few years ago I started to get horrible pain whenever I ate on the right side of my mouth. Pain that should have forced me to start dropping pounds since there were so many foods I could now no longer eat. Some how I found a way to still shove that food in my mouth, thus no weight loss. I didn't have insurance so I couldn't afford to go to the dentist. I assumed it was a cavity, since I'd never had one, and just figured I'd take care of it eventually.
Two years ago my girlfriend was tired of hearing me complain day after day, and seeing me in constant agony, so she took me to a dentist for an emergency appointment. The good news was, no cavity. The bad news, my wisdom teeth did grow in crooked and one of them, on the painful side, was growing in horizontally and tearing at the roots of my molars. Ouchies.
He also said I needed to see a surgeon right away. Still no insurance so I left with an xray of my screwed up teeth and went back to normal.
I recently got a real job with grown up things like insurance. First thing I did the day my insurance cards came in the mail was go to the dentist. It had gotten worse, since it's been 10 years, and now they would have to remove small pieces of my jawbone as well. Good news is I still don't have any cavities. Do I get an award or something? A month later, I had the surgery. That was 7 days ago.
After the surgery I was hopped up on pain medication so I was wheeled out to the car in a wheelchair, since my legs wouldn't work, and plopped down in the seat next to my loving girlfriend. She informs me that for the next hour, I told her I couldn't feel my tongue (I was touching my chin while I told her this important information) and I made her touch it to ensure it was still in my mouth. I also refused to put my hand down. I got in the car and raised my hand in the air. She put my hands in my lap but I raised it again and told her, "It's more comfortable like this." I also said the phrase "Oh man" about 1,000 times. At some point in the car ride I started crying because I swore there was something in my mouth that was trying to go down my throat and cut off my breathing. The whole time she held my hand and put up with my craziness. She's a keeper that one.
Throughout the next few days, my face swelled up like a squirrel with cheeks full of acorns. My girl's favorite question to me over these days was, "What are you hiding in those cheeks?" Everyday she told me how cute and beautiful I was, even though I know I looked like I was morbidly obese and this was the future of my face if I didn't stop eating so much crap. I recommend this surgery for kick starting any weight loss plan.
I now look like I got punched in the face because of a giant bruise on the side of my jaw. But the swelling is going down. Now I just look fat. I've caught up on a lot of reading, TV and video games. Very important stuff I had been putting off. Not to mention the fact that my girlfriend showed how devoted she is to me in sickness and in health. Did I mention she's a keeper? Putting a ring on that finger as soon as some heterosexual judge gives me the go ahead.
All in all, I'm glad I did the grown up thing. It probably would have been better to do it at 18 but too late now. I've been out of work for the last week and am praying I still have a desk when I go back. I've learned Vicodin makes me terribly sleepy and that I really like jello. Like, whoa. And I learned that doctors are smarter than 18 year olds.
Who knew?
Saturday, January 1, 2011
A New Year...and new shit.
Today is the first day of 2011 and I planned on spending it on my couch, watching TV and vegging out. I had all of my wisdom teeth removed 3 days ago and have been recuperating with books and TV. Not a bad way to end the year.
Here I am, sitting on my couch talking on the phone with my mother and getting ready to start writing a blog about the new year, when all of a sudden I hear what sounds like rushing water. It sounded like someone was dumping buckets of water out the window upstairs. I get up and walk into the bathroom to look out the window and I see my toilet overflowing water all over my floor. It takes me a second to realize this is happening because this makes no sense to me since I've done absolutely nothing to necessitate a clogged toilet. NOTHING.
I run down to my building managers apartment to tell her and ask her to call a plumber asap. I go back to my apartment and the water is still gushing everywhere. Not only is it water, but its shit water. There is shit water and chunks of black hair (I am a redhead and my girlfriend is a blond) all over my floor and coming out of my toilet. I want to vomit.
My building manager goes to the upstairs apartment and the neighbors apartment to see if they are also having an issue and none of them are. This supposedly means it originated from my apartment which I tell him is completely impossible. IMPOSSIBLE. There is no possible way that this happened here. I'd be happy to admit it if it was.
Now the water is still gushing out because my building manager can't get it to stop. It has now spread to the carpet in our bedroom. Equally awesome.
I have to wait until a plumber can get here to fix this which could take up to two hours. I'm so furious and disgusted that this is how I get to spend my first day of the new year.
They say that whatever you do on the first day of the year is the theme for what you'll be doing all year long. My plan was to relax and start writing and have the tone for 2011 be stress free and creative.
Guess 2011 is going to be full of shit.
Here I am, sitting on my couch talking on the phone with my mother and getting ready to start writing a blog about the new year, when all of a sudden I hear what sounds like rushing water. It sounded like someone was dumping buckets of water out the window upstairs. I get up and walk into the bathroom to look out the window and I see my toilet overflowing water all over my floor. It takes me a second to realize this is happening because this makes no sense to me since I've done absolutely nothing to necessitate a clogged toilet. NOTHING.
I run down to my building managers apartment to tell her and ask her to call a plumber asap. I go back to my apartment and the water is still gushing everywhere. Not only is it water, but its shit water. There is shit water and chunks of black hair (I am a redhead and my girlfriend is a blond) all over my floor and coming out of my toilet. I want to vomit.
My building manager goes to the upstairs apartment and the neighbors apartment to see if they are also having an issue and none of them are. This supposedly means it originated from my apartment which I tell him is completely impossible. IMPOSSIBLE. There is no possible way that this happened here. I'd be happy to admit it if it was.
Now the water is still gushing out because my building manager can't get it to stop. It has now spread to the carpet in our bedroom. Equally awesome.
I have to wait until a plumber can get here to fix this which could take up to two hours. I'm so furious and disgusted that this is how I get to spend my first day of the new year.
They say that whatever you do on the first day of the year is the theme for what you'll be doing all year long. My plan was to relax and start writing and have the tone for 2011 be stress free and creative.
Guess 2011 is going to be full of shit.
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