on privacy

Pronounced privacy with a short i. Like shiv.

Two incidents occurred the other day in/around the student health center.

Incident #1: A guy crosses the study area, heading to the student health center. He's wearing aviators, jean shorts, a black dress shirt and a silver tie. You're with me, right? So a girl shouts across the room: "Where are you headed?" He replies, "Health center." Girl - "Cool, see you later". Tie guy: "Yeah, keep your fingers crossed I don't have syphilis". Really? Did he really just yell that across the room? My land. Some people have no shame. Joke didn't quite come across, especially because he was dressed as he was. Icky. He probably had gristedes, too.

Incident #2: Walking into the health center, a woman asked me* to fill out a survey. Sure, why not. It's a survey on depression. After I fill it out, I return it to the woman and she reviewed quickly and declared "Well, looks like you're not depressed!" Cool, sounds good. Wait. What if I had answered questions and it turned out that I was depressed? I mean, would she have just dropped the bomb on me? "Well, sorry to tell you but you are clinically depressed and should probably be on medication and dear heavens how are you even making it through life right now you poor child without your life taking an abysmal turn into tattered ruins oh dear lord save us all." Is this really something you should be telling to a student who IS DEPRESSED TO BEGIN WITH ANYWAY. It just doesn't add up.

*This did not actually happen to me, but a classmate. But it was LIKE I was there.

Another new years thing

I wonder how many other people made the resolution to start flossing? We are an unclean nation.

So far the count is up to 5...

Iz not reddy for winterz

I have been trying to buy some boots for awhile. I just want a pair of cute, professional, somewhat sassy black boots. I've looked high and low, but cannot afford most of the boots I like (upwards of $250). So last night I was out doing all the shopping and discovered the Nine West Boot Sale!!

Fortuitous happenstance!

So I tore through the store, picking out boot after boot to try on. Just me and my iPod. Me and Band Of Horses just picking out the boot of my dreams. After about 20 minutes of pacing around the store in each possible new boot and becoming increasingly frustrated with my inability to find a good pair, I had to ask someone else.
See, usually when girls go shopping, they go in groups or with another girl so they can get The Opinion. Without this Opinion, they are in danger of making a grave mistake. I can attest to this mistake. Right now, if you look in my closet you will find the following:
1. oversized sweater vest
2. grey jeans that don't fit properly
3. pants that can only be described as culottes
4. black shoes that my mom might wear
5. black shirt with fluttery wing-like long sleeves

I have bought all these items in the past 4 months. I need The Opinion when I shop or I make regrettable purchases. Very. Regrettable.

Anyway I had no shopping partner last night, so I approached 2 lovely looking young ladies. I asked them which boot they preferred. We deliberated and they decided that the boot on the left foot looked much better. (really? but the right boot is so cute! i love the details!) But...they gave me The Opinion I was seeking out. It was settled. And against my better judgement, I trusted that Opinion more than my own instinct.

I returned home with my spoils and put the boots on to take a look in the personal comforts of my home. I put them on and gasped. GASPED. I bought whore boots. How did I not see this in the store?? The pointy toes...the knee length...the stiletto heel...the silver detail on the back...SH*T. I started thinking back on what me "friends" in the store told me. "I like the way that boot makes your foot look arched" or "Those are sexy boots!"

So after some deep thinking, I realized that these girls were not any normal girls. They were probably ladies of the night. And I trusted their opinion because...well...they looked pretty damn hot. But I am not a "hot girl". I am a "cute girl". I buy cute girl boots, not whorrish sexy boots.

I'm taking back those boots tonight. And next time I solicit somebody's Opinion, I will first ask them what their occupation is and whether or not they like cheap sex. Hopefully, this will allow for a more fulfilling shopping experience that will result in my continued cuteness and my decreasing whore-ishness, an image I've been trying to shed since my cheerleading days. Damn the cheerleaders.

Walking Follies

Someone just walked by my little cube.

They didn't just walk, however. They ran. Why would a person run in the office, you might be wondering? I'll tell you. I heard this person trip on something before they came into view, and they just pretended they were running instead of following through with the trip! It really made me laugh, because I do things like that all the time.
"Oh no, I totally wanted to start running after that large crack in the sidewalk. Yes, I've been planning on it since I saw the crack."

Right. We all know that running after a trip is a total waste of pride, because we KNOW what you're doing.

The Run After Tripping incident reminded me of something else I see. Walking to work in the morning, I walk beside a large glass-windowed building. I like to play a game with those walking in front of me. I like to count the number of times the person watches themselves walk. You would be amazed how many people are narcissistic around here. I mean, even as VAIN as I am - I only take a glance every once in a while. Certainly not every day and CERTAINLY not 10 times within one block! Good Grief.

Can you think of any other walking follies? I love a good tripping/falling story, as you might have heard.

More customer service issues

So I figured this year I would start early with Christmas presents. I've been doing some online shopping and found this great website that sells awesome writing supplies. I ordered something for one of my babbies, and I've been so excited to see what they look like when they arrive.

Until...I got an email today asking me to clarify the address. Here's how our email conversation went:

Gnomie,
Your order is printed but FedEx will not accept the ship to address that you provided Awesome Writing Supplies. What is going on?

-- Gail

No problem, I thought.

Gail,
Please ship to my billing address,
1234 ABC St
Washington, DC 20000

I'm not sure why the other address wouldn't work. It is a business address, the company's name is Gnomes R Us.
If it doesn't work, please use the billing address.

Thanks,

Gnomie
And here is her audacious reply.

Gnomie, I spoke to the receptionist and got the floor/suite #. I thought I was shipping to a residence which is more costly. It would have saved you money had you input the business name in the shipping address so FedEx could have provided a commercial rate. Since I've had to spend time on figuring it out, there is no savings now, only in the future.

Bitchpants!

Is it just me? Am I too sensitive? Does anyone else think that email exchange seemed fairly rude? She was giving me the old 1,2 step and a slap in the face. Well...you could've saved money if you weren't so stupid. My time is soooo important because millions of people are just lining up to buy supplies online and I can't spare a moments time for anything else other than order processing.

Lloyd Dobbler was right.
"I don't want to buy or sell anything processed. I don't want to sell anything processed or bought. I don't want to process anything bought or sold."


He just wanted to hang out with Diane Cort and teach her how to drive stick. What's so wrong with that??

UPDATE: I got a follow up email from the BP:

Gnomie,
It works now that there is a room # and a company name. Had I shipped with the information provided there would have been a $25 surcharge passed along to you because of the inaccuracies & omissions of critical delivery information and there is a bold red statement requiring ALL necessary shipping information on the order page where the ship to address is input.

So you know in the future, FedEx and UPS are now surcharging all shippers when critical delivery information is needlessly withheld from them, and the floor, suite, apartment, company # are all critical pieces of information for locating a recipient who is located in a multi-family or multi unit office building. It just took me 1/2 hour to figure this out and the shippers are apparently frustrated with so many people wasting their time when the information is known to the customers.

So SORRY. I'll go stand in the corner. How many sentences would you like me to write, BP??

Parking=Tears and the Pulling out of Hairs

When I went to school in the lovely valley of Cache, there loomed one ever-present problem on campus. There was never ANY parking. And the school knew it. The parking police racked up enough money from unknowing students and visitors to build a pool on the 4th floor, and there's not even a fourth floor. They racked up so much money that they changed Cache Valley to Cash Valley. They racked up so much money that they were able to build ANOTHER wal-mart.

Anyway. I digress.

They recently built a huge parking structure to suit the growing needs of students and visitors who weren't, in fact, trying to screw the system and just park wherever they wanted - we actually couldn't find spaces and were forced to either stay in our place past the metered time or park in an illegal spot. Which I did ALL the time. I racked up my share of tickets, and I was glad to leave that town when I graduated.

That being said - last week I requested my transcripts be sent to another college for grad school. My Alma-mater sent me an email stating that my transcripts were on hold because of a parking violation. What?

Wait, wait, wait. So...you're telling me I graduated with no problem, no holds or anything...and now I have a parking hold? That seems strange.

So I called up the parking office and the sweet old parking office lady told me I had a ticket from MAY 2005. Two-thousand-freaking-five? How is that even possible? I graduated in December 2005 without any holds. And, by the way, it's nearly 2008. Can't we just let bygones be bygones?? It blows my mind that a ticket can stay on your record for 2 1/2 years without anyone batting an eye. Then just when you think you can call someone up and order transcripts, you have to pay a $25 fine. I couldn't even dispute it because I was in some sort of Parking Shock.

It was awful. It was degrading. As much as I miss Ruby, I'm so so glad I don't have a car anymore. So much hassle. Oh, and thanks be to all those who give me rides, without whom I couldn't take trips to Manassas.

Falling

One of my favorite memories while living in Logan was all the icy sidewalks and the falls that took place as a result of these icy pitfalls. In the morning, people are always walking briskly in an effort to make it to class in time. Sometimes, that briskness turns on them.

One minute you are cruising without thought, clutching your backpack straps, looking at your watch to make sure you are making good time, and trying not to focus on the cold air that is cutting your throat with every inhaled breath. Next thing you know, you hit a patch of ice, hands fly in the air, books fly out your hands, hair is tossed around and there is not enough time to grab onto anything. There you are on the ground, embarrassed and just trying to laugh it off. Now try getting up. You can't. You slip. Everyone around you is snickering. You see one girl with medium length brown hair wearing a Virginia is for Lovers letter mans jacket. She is laughing her ass off. Yep, that's me. I have no heart. I am a cruel mistress of the icy tundra. I laugh at icy follies. It's what I do.

If you don't know what I'm talking about, or if you think I'm a jerk, I propose you watch the following video.
A different kind of fall, though equal in humor, is a 4th of July parade fall on stilts. Stilts falls are in their own category of funny.
Just watch the first 10-15 seconds.

If you think that is funny, watch this:
Not the best clarity, but you get the idea. When people fall, it is hilarious.

Face it, you suck.

Have you ever been making out and are having a super great time until you realize OH SCHNIT, I TOTALLY HAVE A HICKEY!!!

Well, I haven't either.

I don't really understand the nature of a hickey or how it comes to pass. I mean, I understand how its given and received. However, I have a hard time believing that after experiencing it once or twice, that it continues to be a constant presence in ones life. In high school, there was this couple that used to be covered in hickeys. And I mean covered. The girl would always wear low-cut clothing and lots of necklaces to maybe distract from the hickeys? It was seriously gross.

Cut to 5 years later.

While I have never received a hickey, I have been the fortunate bestower of the hickey ***THIS WAS 2 YEARS AGO***(much to the chagrin of other party). Before you go pointing fingers and forcing me to wear a large red A on my chest, I want you to understand something. It was really, really, really funny. Call me a whoremonger, but giving a hickey was one of the funniest things I've ever done to anyone. After an innocent sleepover, I woke up the next morning to the violent swearing of Other Party.

Me: {bleary eyed and in a panic}Oh my gosh, what's wrong?
Other Party: My f***ing neck! My neck! {points to red bruises on neck}
Me: What the hell is that? Are you allergic to something?
OP: You! I'm allergic to you! This is from you!
Me: {Still confused as to what it is, having never actually given or received hickey before} What?
OP: {points to neck}Hickeys!
Me: Oh. {sheepishly throws covers over head and begins to laugh as OP runs around looking for a shirt to cover up "bruises"}

We go to the kitchen to have breakfast and his roommates enter. They immediately ask him what happened to his neck and OP just points at me. Bam. Doesn't even try to make excuses. So for the remainder of that day, I was known as Hoover.

The moral of this story is that I learned what to do to avoid giving hickeys. So, gross people of the world, why can't you do the same? And if you can't, invest in some freaking turtlenecks, for goodness sake. Have some dignity!