There comes a point in one's life where the necessity for differentiation of furkids by urine scent alone is not required.
When I reach it, I'll let you know.
*trudges off to wash her jacket*
Whinge Cry Complain
Sometimes life sucks. Or blows. Or bites.
A Finger of Scotch
It is in me bloody index finger, it is. Right on the centre of the pad. A teeny tiny flesh-coloured flexible glass-like sliver of scotch thistle prickle has found it's way into my flesh and is actively seeking out nearby nerves and giving them little nerve wedgies.
*shudder*
I just tried to peg out a load of socks and undies. Opening each and every peg sent shivers down my spine. Writing tomorrow's shopping list was waaaay more exhilarating than it should have been, and typing is making me sweat just that little bit. Don't even get me started on clicking my mouse, ouch!!
*shiver*
I've prodded and gouged and soaked and salved but the sodding thing is nowhere to be found. At this point I'm considering a stiff drink and a set of bolt cutters.
*sweat*
No matter how good of an idea it seems at the time, bare-handed weeding of prickly dead things is not to be attempted. Ever ever. The worst bit is that, because of the lovely pricklies, I didn't put it in the garbage bag. Oh no, I'm too sensible for that. I turfed it over the side fence so I can pick it up out the front tomorrow and put it directly into the bin. Agghh!
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll give this one last shot before calling it quits for the night.
*faint*
Come on, Eileen!
Or in this case, Eileenette.
I have a space invader. Here I was, minding my own business, getting ready to upload my assignment to the college server, when all of a sudden I spotted a rogue link on my homepage!
My mind immediately went to visions of little 1337 haX0rz in darkened bedrooms, laughing their collective arses off at the success of their devious plan to thwart my assignment submission. After some thought, and reading the link text of "Eileenette - Work", this seemed a little unlikely.
So I took a deep breath and clicked.
My new houseguest had practically wiped her feet at the door and brought a pot of my favourite homemade casserole. Not only was the link I clicked carefully placed in my existing menu, but the brand new page I'd ended up on was themed. I kid you not, good old Eileenette had looked at my index page and made hers fit my theme!
Want to know the best bit? She did it from scratch. There was no snaffling of source code for my intruder. That'll earn an A+ for politeness right there.
Polite as she is, she has got to go.
My house.
My site.
Out. Out. OUT!
I've sent off a rather wordy email to the campus server gods via my perpetually frazzled teachers. Methinks someone in that department has sniffed one too many too many laser printers.
In the meantime, my new intruder-cum-friend is camped out on my virtual sofa bed surrounded by her improvements and assignments, whilst my assignments are safely stored away on my flash drive awaiting her eviction.
Of course, we are waiting on possibly ozone-affected tech monkeys who apparently wouldn't know how to run a chook raffle, let alone sort out permissions on a student server, so she could be here a while...
Fed up
I suspect that to some people I am seen as a bit of a soft touch who always likes to see the good in others and will look for any and every possible reason to explain even the most apalling of actions. It is a nicer way to live than looking for the bad and much kinder than writing people off for understandable, if unacceptable, actions. I am one of those people who could, given the right situation, happily explain away a homicide.
There comes a point though, when you realise that it is all bloody pointless.
Where is the gain in providing yourself with reasons and explanations for behaviour when, irregardless of the motivations, it shits you up the wall? I tell myself that I'm only being the type of person that I'd like as a friend but when it gets right down to it, there is a limit to the number of times that you can turn the other cheek or take the higher ground before you are overwhelmed by the desire to tell people where they can shove it.
I have hit my limit.
I cannot deal with any more of this juvenile high school bullshit.
Tell Me You're Joking...
*RING RING*
"Hello, am I speaking to the person who applied for X course last October?"
[Oh dear, this woman sounds quite stressed, what have I done?]
"Yeeees?"
[OK, I'm listening, but lady, I've just rolled out of bed...]
"Ahh. Right. Well I'm just calling because we've had a few problems with applicants getting letters informing them that they haven't gotten in to the course when they actually have."
[You are joking...]
"Hm?"
[You are not bloody joking, are you?]
"Did you, er, get a letter?"
[Oh my god! I'm not stupid! I got in!!]
"Yes I did. It said standby."
[Go on, dig your way out of this. I've spent months fretting and all because you buggered up a letter?]
"Ahhh. Well. That was wrong. It should have said you got in."
[Keep going princess...]
"Riiight"
[Dammit, what should I do?]
"Um, do you have your work organised? I just need proof of that and I ca..."
[Oh dear god, I'm going to regret this....]
"Actually I've just signed up to an IT course because I thought I was not going to get into this one, so can you please take my name off the list?"
[Hey, that actually felt kind of good!]
"Oh. Yeah, sure. I'll do that now."
[Aaand it is too late to change my mind now. I seem OK with it still. Am I ok with it?]
"Thanks"
[OMG OMG OMG I got in! I'm not stupid! Er, yes. I'm still OK with it.]
"OK, all done. Sorry about all this, and good luck with your IT course"
[Yipee, I'm doing IT! I... yep, I'm better than OK with it.]
"Not a problem, and thanks!"
[I got in and I said no. I am smart, I can fill in forms, I got in and I said NO! How come they can't fill in forms? Bah, screw this, I'm going back to bed.]
*CLICK*
No, wait. It gets better.
*RING RING*
"Hi, I'm calling from college, did you apply for X course?"
[This is confusing, what is wrong now?]
"yes?"
[No, I'm positive I didn't dream the first phonecall...]
"Are you planning on attending the full time course this year?"
[Huh?]
"Um, no. I've signed up to an IT course. I was supposed to have been taken off the list?"
[Do they even talk to each other? Surely people refusing placements isn't that uncommon and difficult to handle...]
"Right, well thankyou for calling to inform us, goodbye."
*CLICK*
[Shit. I should ha... Hold up a second, did that rude cow just dump the blame on me? Did she just hang up!? No. That can't be right. How was I supposed to say I wasn't accepting if I was unaware I was accepted? Should I call and tell her about the letters and the mix up and th... Bah, sod it. Not worth the energy.]
And so there you go.
[Yes, I'm still happy with my decision.]
Those bloody whales
If I see one more link to that "Save the Whales" petition, I'm going to lose it.
If I get one more invite to "Go Away Japan, Leave our whales alone" I shall spit the dummy.
If just one more bozo says "...and they are killing whales in Australian waters!" they are going to be subject to much ranting and raving.
I've had it up to here with people getting all high and mighty over something that they seem to think is so completely simple. This is anything but simple. This is an incredibly complicated and serious matter, made even more complicated by the overwhelming public outcry and their painfully underwhelming understanding. I'm not saying I'm an expert on the matter by any means, no doubt I'm well off the mark on some points, but I'm getting so fed up with being fed garbage and being shouted at to 'save the whales' and abused when I don't fall all over myself to support the cause as they see it that I thought I'd get on my own little soap box and do some yelling of my own.
