Tag Archives: rant

Easy as 1, 2, 3

When given a set of instructions, my OCD kicks into overdrive and I find myself reading them over and over until I have them basically memorized and then refer back every five seconds to check what I’ve read and what I should do.

This does not mean I am good with them, as you know, but it’s not for lack of preparation. I maintain that I simply lack the gene that allows for implementation.

However, it’s become apparent that many adults these days lack the preparation, the implementation and the desire to actually read the instructions that are given to them.

Some examples, you say?

I have at least three.

Four-Way Stops

This is not nuclear physics. Basically the first vehicle to arrive at a complete stop is the first vehicle allowed to leave the stop sign. 

But yet people either speed right through or sit there and appear to contemplate the angle of the sun in proportion to the trajectory of the moon before concluding they should go — a decision often influenced by the fact everyone is waving them on with one select finger or honking their horns.

I know the rules and will stand my ground with one exception: If your car is held together with bungee cords and duct tape, I will always yield to you. You clearly have nothing to lose.

Email

Hypothetically speaking, let’s say I send out an email that ends with, “I have attached the form with the deadline included. Thanks, Abby.” Please note that my name is also included in the signature at the bottom of the email and in the return email address.

I can’t tell you the number of times I get a reply along the lines of, “Hi Anny/Amy/Bob! Can you please send me the form and let me know when the deadline is?”

And…headdesk.

This shows a blatant lack of effort and respect for my time, and also that of Anny/Amy/Bob, wherever and whoever they may be. And for the love of avocados, if it instructs, “Reply back directly and do not ‘reply all.’” Do not “reply all.” In fact, do not ever “reply all.”

Ever.

Self Checkouts

Despite the fact that the machine tells you what to do step-by-step both visually and out loud, it seems “scan item,” “place item in the bag” and “insert money” is interpreted as “poke at the screen for 5 minutes,” “yell about how you can’t find the picture of the bright yellow fruit on the screen” and “try to cram wrinkled dollar bills into the slot while swearing.”

And yet these people keep returning to the self checkout lanes as if actual interaction with the cashier is too much of an inconvenience.

I suppose if nothing else, watching these people justifies the necessity of the “do not eat” warning labels on silica gel packs.

Let’s hope that they follow directions.

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Female Problems

I’ve always been a little confused by women.

They’ve never screwed me over or anything, but I don’t really understand them and always preferred to hang with the guys. And seeing as I generally try and avoid makeup, drama, dieting, photographs, baby things and shopping, stereotypically speaking, that excludes me from many female social circles.

And Pinterest.

socialawkward

So I do what I usually do when I don’t understand something—I avoid it.

I realize this is bad because the friends that I do have who don’t have a penis are actually really freaking cool—not to mention really freaking tolerant, seeing as they understand that my idea of excitement is sitting on the opposite end of my couch than I usually do to watch the game on a Friday night. But sometimes it’s hard not to lump the rest of the estrogen all together.

Why?

Because in between all the cool women are those annoying ones who do things like gossip about other women as a result of their own insecurity—and post 3,502 self-portraits a day, but that’s neither here nor there.

So in an effort to improve our society as a whole, I thought I would offer up some suggestions to “those” women so we can all like them more.

How to Be More Awesome

Be Decisive

Speaking in an ambiguous code and expecting others to understand and make decisions for you invalidates the power of your own intellect.  If you feel like you need to consult 40 people before making a decision or voicing an opinion, something is wrong.  Say what you mean and mean what you say and make no apologies for feeling that way.

And please, use real words.

Eat Real Food and Move On

I talk about food all the time and know that a lot of people find recipe inspiration or support for their health efforts by talking about it with others. I’m not addressing this.

I’m addressing people who constantly talk about the latest dietary restriction or crazy plan they’ve imposed upon themselves (and everyone else through pictures and constant updates) in an effort to find the “perfect” way to eat.

Here’s a tip: Don’t buy crap. Don’t eat crap. Repeat. No need to broadcast this. Also, if you use lettuce instead of bread, it’s not a sandwich. It’s basically a sleeping bag for salad.

Don’t Act Needy

Constantly seeking outside validation is the quickest way to annoy people. There’s nothing wrong with feeling insecure—heck, I’m the queen of it—but purposely acting helpless is not only annoying, it also makes the rest of us look bad.

You are stronger than you think. Embrace your strength. Don’t diminish it.

Take a Compliment

Even if you don’t agree that your haircut looks good, just zip it and say “thank you.” Someone took the time to notice and say something nice about you or what you did. Don’t act like an ass and argue with them about how you think it actually sucks.


So if you find yourself surrounded by these annoying women, remember that you have free will, ladies! Wasting energy by a) trying to shape them into more tolerable people or b) gossiping about them to make yourself feel better just pushes you into the annoying category.

Ignore, ignore, ignore.

I realize this post could make me sound like I’m hating on women, but I don’t mean that this is all women—only the ones that cause all the other awesome ones to feel stabby.

We all need to stick together, so just view this as a public service on behalf of all the cool women out there who don’t want to hear a grown-ass woman say “cray-cray” or complain that you can’t read her mind.

You. Are. Welcome.

Carry on.

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Did I miss anything? Let’s share.

Who Cares?

When I wrote the “I Don’t Get It” post,  I kept coming back to one thing. Since I’m feeling cranky, I decided to give it a separate post.

No, this won’t be about helpful baking hintsthis time—but rather that I don’t understand why some people get so worked up about certain things other people do, simply because they’re don’t like or understand the same things.

funny-celebrity-pictures-seriously-who-the-fk-cares

I joke and gripe about people who watch “The Bachelor” or that feel the need to share their obsession with self-portraits or the reproductive habits of sea mammals 25 times a day via every social media site created, but in all honesty, I really couldn’t care less.

My sarcasm is like a high colonic for creative constipation, so I vent my issues.

But if a responsible adult* wants to spend their time on the Internet “pinning” things or reading blogs, watching sports or trashy TV or scouring store windows for shoes or shingles, who cares?

If a responsible adult wants to marry someone of the same sex, do something horribly misguided with their hair or occasionally spend the money they earned on something slightly impractical, how does that really affect everyone else in the “big picture”?

Most of the time, it doesn’t.

But yet people will make a point to express their displeasure and confusion over the fact that someone made a choice they didn’t personally agree with or understand.

*Of course the key word is “responsible” adult, meaning other necessities such as family, friends, cleaning, bills and employment are not neglected as a result.

For example, you probably knew I’m a vegetarian.  If you don’t, you do now.

I choose not to eat meat or fish, and unless someone has expressed an interest in my lifestyle, I will never preach about my or their diet. Ethical/ecological issues aside, their diet doesn’t affect me, just like me not eating meat doesn’t affect them.  All it basically means is more greens for me and more meat for you.

But for once my point isn’t really about food.

It was just one example because there’s often a lot of judgment surrounding the topic. I could have just as easily used anything as it relates to lifestyle, recreational or professional choices — they’re all under the microscope of cynicism from time to time.

Don’t get me wrong in that I snark and watch “Fashion Police” on my couch in sweatpants and my ESPN T-shirt. However joking about it or being annoyed is one thing—come to think of it, it’s kind of my thing—but there’s a line between general griping and judgmental interference.

I’m not sure if it’s part insecurity, part boredom or just “I want this person to be this way but because they’re not I’m pissed.” Whatever it is, I have to ask, who cares? 

Well, sometimes I do.

But then I remind myself that wasting my energy on worrying about the things other people do leaves less energy for me to worry about the person who searched for my blog with, “Are women wearing banana clips and fuzzy thongs again?”

Now if you don’t mind, I have some research to do.

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You Make Me Less Grinchy

Disclaimer: A long post, but it’s worth it for Round One of donation drop-off!

Let’s get one thing straight—I’m not a Grinch, but I’m already over the holidays.

Grinch

It’s not because of stress or travel or even the fact that Mariah Carey has been telling me that “all she wants for Christmas is me” for the past month — sorry Mimi, you’re SOL—but because I hate when schedules get all messed up.

While I get a three-day weekend following the holiday, a whole bunch of people get weeks off at a time, meaning that a) it makes it near impossible for me to get any work done with no one else actually working b) I have to hear people talk about how they get weeks off at a time and c) the normal “schedule” of blogging for most is messed up,  as is that of TV shows.

I feel like anything I put up here probably won’t be read, as everyone else is blotto on their couch watching Kathie Lee and Hoda drink mimosas. Plus, everyone’s in “peace on Earth” mode, so anything snarky is dismissed as Grinchy and unseasonal.

In other words, it’s all about me.

But aside from craving attention, hating traffic and the fact I have to wait 30 minutes in line at the store to buy bananas, the reason I look forward to the New Year coming and going basically boils down to Top 10 lists and resolutions.

I do not participate in either.

But the next week will be filled with compilations of the “Top Celebrity Breakups,” “Top Recipes of 2011” and “Top Top 10 Lists of 2011” in addition to countless status updates, tweets and conversations revolving around how someone is going to change their life this year if only because they publically declare that they are.

Again.

Spoiler alert: Top 10 lists are simply a springboard for debate because no one really remembers what happened the first three months of the year. Why? Because they were too busy beating themselves up over the fact that their New Year’s resolution only lasted two weeks.

While I agree that a new year is a great time to make new goals, for me, resolutions are things that can and should be made on a daily basis, not in grandiose fashion one time a year. As cheesy as it sounds, my resolution every day is to be a better person and take the next healthy step forward—physically and emotionally—to reach that goal.

Plus, as I’ve mentioned before, I will continue to work towards my ultimate goal of becoming independently wealthy so I can live on an island where I work on my exotic container gardens while tirelessly devoting myself to perfecting the slow motion “Baywatch” jog.

Again.

So I guess I just want things to get back to a level of relative normalcy, but in the meantime, I do resolve to enjoy the season for what it’s worth.

The Non-Grinchy Stuff

And one way I am enjoying the season is by distributing Round One of the gifts for the Humane Society of West Michigan with the profits from books sales thus far. When I donate somewhere, I like to know exactly where my money is going. It’s not that I don’t trust people, but I feel more productive if I can see what it’s spent on.

The past few years our donations have included a memorial tribute tree, 50 scratching posts, an elevated Kuranda dog bed for the kennels, an engraved tribute tag, etc. and a big plastic pool filled with a bunch of items from their wish list.

This year I decided to go that route once again so you could see what some of the money was directly spent on—the animals, and nothing but the animals.

hstreats1

Behold Round One of the gifts!

Along with this truck full of goodness, the purchase of my book also helped pay for another Kuranda dog bed for the kennels. If you could see how they love these things, your heart would melt.

So despite this long ramble, I really am speechless at your support and generosity so far. This is in no way the end of my efforts, and I know it’s annoying when I bug you and tell you to tell a friend or help spread the word, but it’s so greatly appreciated.

Although I’m not sure how yet, I will continue to try and find other ways to market this thing and keep it going as long as I can.  But for now—with Round One purchased and delivered—I thank you from the bottom of my little Grinchy heart.

Stink. Stank. Stonk.

A Thanksgiving PSA

Now that we’re into November, there are a few things you can expect.

Funny-Thanksgivingsomeecard

The first is a rant from me about what you can expect: 

Thankful Lists

You will be inundated with blog posts, stories and articles about what people are thankful for. Those are fine and dandy, but this will not be one of those posts. If it were, I would say I’m thankful for most of my family, friends, baseball and pesto. Unless you’re a real ass, I will assume you are also thankful for the good things in your life.

I say practice an “attitude of gratitude” on a daily basis, not just when people gather around a bird carcass stuffed with stale bread.

Stuffing

People will make a big deal out of “Surviving the Holidays” in reference to meals like it’s the apocalypse. Apparently the appearance of extra food is something that requires careful planning and strategies to navigate, as eating reasonably sized portions of traditional foods is a foreign concept to people once the leaves start to fall.

The last time I checked, turkeys were not an endangered species as of yet and green bean casserole and pie can actually be recreated in months that don’t end in “er.” In addition, there is nothing more annoying than listening to people complain about all the food they ate.

Remember the attitude of gratitude? Be glad you have the option and scoop a little perspective and moderation on top of those taters.

Family (Dys)function

People will also make a big deal out of “Surviving the Holidays” like it’s the apocalypse when it comes to family, and on this note, I can’t deny the fact that stuffing the bird with Prozac shouldn’t be discounted.

As Johnny Carson famously said, “Thanksgiving is an emotional holiday. People travel thousands of miles to be with people they only see once a year. And then discover once a year is way too often.”

While my situation no longer includes large family gatherings—something I kind of miss—forcing a bunch of people to “be merry and bright” on a specific day at a specific time without any dysfunction is asking a lot.

There will be one or two people doing most of the work while the others linger around and ask when the food will be done. Kids will be screaming, but that will be marginally less annoying than the cousin telling you what you’re doing wrong with the yams and with your life.

The highlight will be when your crazy uncle inserts one too many jokes about “being a breast/leg man” or “tying the legs together to keep things moist”and eventually lands on the the magic phrase that sends your aunt storming out of the dining room to sit in her car.

Decorations

While I would like to keep this centered on Thanksgiving—Christmas/consumerism rants to follow—I have to add in decorations, as this is about that time of year when a) people start complaining about the early appearance of Christmas items in stores and b) others are busy hanging old socks from the fireplace mantle and sprigs of dead plants from doorways in hopes of a kiss.

Soon displaying bright blinking lights and inflatable characters in your front yard will not warrant a neighbor watch meeting you are conveniently not invited to to discuss the “trashing down” of the neighborhood. And while I agree that it’s best to get those outdoor decorations up before the snow flies, when it comes to the inside décor, let’s keep the reindeer hidden until the turkey trots away.

PSA Conclusion

I suppose my unsolicited advice is to not freak out about “surviving the season,” as that places unnecessary stress on a situation that usually brings enough stress of its own. Plus, it’s annoying. Be thankful for what you have and remember that once Thanksgiving is over, you get to do it all again with the same group of crazy bastards a month later for Christmas.

For that, I am most thankful for Vodka.

Oh! And for Studio 30 Plus, as this post is in response to this week’s prompt:

Being Thankful

You can blame them.

Forecast: Sunny with a chance of jazz hands

There’s no polite way to say this, so I’ll just come out with it. I’ve developed unnatural annoyance towards the local weatherman. Let me explain the rationale I use to help me make this seem okay:

Forecast: Obnoxiously Sunny Disposition

While I’m all for enthusiasm, he is entirely too excited about his job —and natural disasters — and wants everyone else to be too. Whether he’s stuck outside in a blizzard with icicles forming from his snotty nose or simply flashing his jazz hands in front of a green screen, he’s entirely too spastic. A raindrop falls, graphs are drawn and excited overanalysis begins. 

Forecast: Flood of Hyperbole

He completely abuses his “Severe Weather” and “Breaking News” privileges.

party-cloudy-day-weather-disaster-seasonal-ecards-someecards

Yes, we get severe weather, but not every day. His hyperbole and penchant for overexcitement and exaggeration—actually using the phrase “Snowpacolypse” on multiple occasions —have left me indifferent to possible natural disasters. Until I hear sirens and a cow flies by my window, I will assume he’s simply meteorologically manic. Again.

Forecast: Cloudy Credibility

I understand he’s trying to predict the future, but he’s wrong quite often. In an effort to gain credibility, he will tell you to take an umbrella if it’s raining and wear a warm coat when it snows. We will then be inundated with station promos about how they “brought us the most accurate forecast” in the area.  My suggestion would be to focus on the forecast for 10 minutes from now, not 10 days, and stay humble. You don’t get bonus points for doing your job.

Forecast: Slightly Corny

I often feel like I’m watching bad stand-up and the annoying “filler” banter back and forth with the anchor borders on adolescent awkwardness.  Weather puns will be made. He will call her by some abbreviated form of her name and “Suze” will politely laugh while looking directly into the camera instead of at him. If it’s nice out, she’ll thank him for the nice day, to which he will reply, "You’re welcome", as if he had control of it.  They will laugh and laugh and laugh…

Forecast:  Condescension, not to be confused with condensation

Finally—and most importantly—he makes me feel like a social reject with absolutely no life (on this he’s only halfway right—as usual.) Every forecast is prefaced with something along the lines of, “If you’re getting ready to go out to dinner tonight” or “If you’re planning a picnic followed by a long walk on the beach tomorrow” etc. Never does he say, “If you’re planning on sitting on your couch in your yoga pants watching the ball game and writing a blog post while trying to find that piece of food you just dropped down your shirt,” plan on partly sunny skies.

Extended Forecast

Even with all that said, I still watch the weather, mostly because the weatherman has convinced me that I need to find out how the weather won’t be when I’m sitting on my couch in yoga pants watching the ball game and writing a blog post while trying to find that piece of food I just dropped down my shirt.

But I have started to switch to the Weather Channel and their “Local on the 8’s” instead. I usually don’t remember the forecast five minutes after I’ve watched it, but I know it will run again in 10 minutes and the music is catchy.

And catchy music means there’s a strong chance of an impromptu dance party in my living room—with jazz hands, of course.