Friday, August 13, 2010

Our carpet is still wet.

We are moving on the 16th... but we have to be out of here on the 15th. We only officially started moving things into our new house yesterday.

This was a mistake.

Last night, AK-47 got assistance from a friend's dad and we started moving things. That was fun. I actually haven't seen the bulk of the new house; I've seen the living room and front lanai.

Today, we had an appointment to have our carpets cleaned, so everything in the rooms had to be gone. That... sucked. There is a lot of crap in this apartment. There is 4½ peoples' worth of stuff in here. Even with a lot of it gone yesterday, we... have things.

The carpet cleaner was scheduled to arrive at 2. Hamburglar, AK-47 and I started clearing at 10. At noon, the guy called and said “Hey, can I come sooner? Like, now?”

“Um, no. We're not ready for you.”

“Okay, I'll come at two.”

Hamburglar and I were done by one. AK-47 was still working, but she was also done by 2. The guy, however, called at 1:45 to say he would be here at 2:30.

Uhmmm?

Alright. We took this time to clean a little bit more, goof off and all around become quite bored. When the guy came, we had to CLEAN OUT THE BATHROOM so his dumbass could use our tub for his water crap.

Me: “.....What.” There was nothing about that mentioned in my phone call to the operators.

After this, AK-47, Hamburglar and I went downstairs to sit around, be cold (“You can close the door,” AK-47 boldly states) and wonder at the workings of the universe.

The guy is done in a record 40 minutes. The carpet actually looks a lot better; like, there is more color than there are stains now, oh my god. He claims it will be done in 4 to 6 hours.

We had planned for this. We were aware that we would not be able to move anything this day. We didn't really have anything planned for the day. First order of business was to pick up ZombieSlayer and Katana. We then went to Curry House.

We also had to get some keys made. So we went to WalMart. They could not do this one key that we had. So we went to Sears (Katana had a moment of self-affirmation. She hates the jewelry section of Sears but she went through it. Yay.) They were able to make some of our keys, but not the main one. Damn.

We still have four hours to kill, so we hang around the patio section, sitting and talking and being tired of being out of the house. We make plans for tomorrow. AK-47 and I are going to commandeer LionDancer's van and make several high-priority trips to and from the new house. Yay, oh my god.

We drop ZombieSlayer off at the house she is sitting, and go home.

WHAT THE FUCK.

WHAT THE FUCKING HELL.

WHAT. THE. FUCK.

The carpet is still wet.

It has been 7 hours. SEVEN. HOURS.

We are sleeping on PLASTIC BAGS because all of our bedding stuff is on the lanai where we cannot reach it.

I am, as I type this, planning out my strongly worded message for the carpet cleaner's company. This is some major bullshit.

Pictures to follow.

P.S. AK-47 doesn't name her cold-blooded pets, which is bloodist. I named as many as I could. I named one of her bettas Tumor for... an unfortunately obvious reason.

P.P.S. Hamburglar was color-guard captain, and the high school across the lanai has nothing on them. They are not original at all.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

A Venture Into the Happily Unknown

In my experience, the things that I like are not the things that are popular. I never make any concrete decision to dislike anything mainstream or well-known, or to go against the flow. It just happens. I do what I want, which can turn into some interesting situations. With the exception of some childhood necessities, like Sesame Street, army men and googles, I didn't really do the same thing as other people.

My fashion choices do not fall into any known category. Black t-shirts, black boots and blue jeans does not a goth make. Some magazines are trying to call the look “vamped up” (I've come to realize that “vamped up” means that a prep is wearing all black. It's annoying beyond words.) but I call it comfortable. I like black, but I'm not goth. I don't like wearing bright colors anymore. My closet is full of greys and blacks and blues and the very occasional white shirt. I like (read: love) shoes, but I pull on my combat boots before anything else. Which puts my 20-something pairs of shoes to complete and utter waste.

I like Lord Of The Rings, and Harry Potter, but I like serial killers better. I love Dexter. I will read, watch or learn anything about serial killers. I also like forensics. I will watch Bones any day of the week. Put a serial killer in Bones and I am so there. I like the creepy things in life, and I have a soft spot for vampires, but I don't go Abby Scuito on the things; I just like them.

So I'm trying to figure out why popular things are popular. I absolutely do not understand Twilight mania, as aforestated. I can go on and on about that. My recent study is Sex and the City. Seriously, what is it? Why are people so attracted to a show based around four women who choke out their lines, wear bad clothes, are utterly selfish with men and have poor lighting?

Let me break those four points down.

A) The Lines. I have never in my entire life seen anyone struggle so hard to show emotion. Repeating the same thing over and over does not an emote make. (Example: “You have to forgive me. You have to forgive me. Aiden, you have to forgive me. You have to forgive me.” Never once is there a change in tone. She doesn't even cry.) Along with the lines goes the never-moving expressions. Sarah Jessica Parker has two facial expressions: “I'm having sex but not really because I'm walking fabulously through New York” and “I'm a horse.”

B) The Clothes. If you want to watch something about really awesome clothes, watch The Devil Wears Prada. That has some damn fine threads. Sex and the City, not so much. Their clothes are ugly, plain and poorly suited, with the exception of one or two of Samantha's woman-suits... and their nudity. If I see one more obnoxiously huge flower, one more terrifying combination of tweed and rayon, I will shoot myself in the head. I will give them credit for the shoes; those are some nice shoes. But they are not well-matched to the outfits. And if they are such able fashionistas, why are they wearing socks with pumps? Why?!

C) Selfish with Men. I am hardly capable of giving out relationship advice, but I know that if you cheat on someone, you don't go back expecting to be forgiven just because the guy looks good. He probably looks good now so he can find a hotter chick, who doesn't look like a horse. And then when he tells you what a bitch you are, take it like the bitch you are. Don't run away crying like you never expected to be turned down. Honestly.

D) Poor Lighting. The whole thing looks like bad reality TV. (Which may or may not be the original intention. I'm not sure yet.) The outdoor city scenes, sure. Make it as grimy as you please. But indoors, please for the love of god brighten the thing up. Because when it's not bright (For reference purposes, please see any decent show, like The Big Bang Theory, Two and a Half Men, or freaking Top Chef), the rare bright colors they wear show up like neon green “MY BLIND LIBRARIAN DRESSED ME” signs. If you want the lighting to be dreary, the clothes have to be dreary. Otherwise, it's just bad.

So my question to the universe regarding Sex and the City's popularity is this: What up with that?”

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Shark week! Oo ha ha!

The more responsibilities you get, the less shenanigans you can get yourself into. Granted, I don't have a whole crapload of responsibilities; I work three days a week, and watch TV in between. When I get off of work, I don't really have the energy for shenanigans. I used to have shenanigans every other day. I would start the day with “What can I do today that would be worth blogging about?” Now, my mentality is “Screw it, I was on my feet all day, give me a couch and a chilled water and I'm happy.”

For lack of better options, I guess I'll talk a little bit about work. I'm a sales associate, but I'm still in training so I haven't actually done any sales. My first day, I was doing scavenger hunts all over the store, trying to find cards to satisfy my “school work”. (They are actually referred to as SATs. True story.) The next day, I was wrapping present boxes and designing gift bags. (Very, very fun. Most of my bags are on sale now.) Today, I was rearranging the display cases that I was responsible for, so I could be proud of them. (Can I get an “AWESOME?!”?!) It's pretty fun.

In between, I'm watching TV. I really like The Real Housewives of New Jersey. I really LOVE Caroline. Top Chef is also pretty fantastical (PEA PUREE!! ARRRRGGHHH!!), and so is Bethenny Getting Married? Shark Week is currently taking over my work, though, and I'm sad that there are only two days left.

I do have some controversy in regards to Shark Week, however. I hate it when they contradict themselves between programs. One program shows how you don't have to fish for sharks to examine them, you can put them in a state of tonic immobility (wherein they obviously can't move, as long as you are touching their noses, and you can examine them, tag them and even teach with them without any worries... and they are generally in a very good mood when you release them, too) but then the next show focuses on fishing them to examine them. Sharks should not be fished for. They may be tough in skin, but the hooks can still hurt them, and who's to say what kind of adverse affect the experience will have on their personalities? Sharks are smart, they have memories, and if they remember being hurt by fishers, they could just attack innocent fishing boats. And that doesn't make them overly aggressive animals; all animals could be aggressive. A freaking goldfish could be aggressive if it was mistreated (I think? I wonder if the goldfish would remember?). So, for god's sake, stop showing things about fishing for sharks, while promoting their positive image.

In other news, Flaming Hot Cheetos coupled with spicy ramen is a head bomb waiting to happen. NO ONE TOUCH ME, I AM SWEATING CHILI SPICE.