[I like to think of myself as a pretty easy going gal and try not to sweat the small stuff. But sometimes (ok, maybe slightly more often) the general cluelessness, carelessness and overall stupidity of some things and or/people really gets to me. I find that venting is the most efficient way to rid myself of the stress that idiots, wrong meal orders, lack of cell phone etiquette and cheese flavored products (that don’t even contain any freaking cheese!) induce.

So, in an attempt to avoid an ulcer or an unfortunate road rage incident, I vent to you, dear reader. Please feel free to join in and comment about anything–really, anything–that pissed. you. off. this week. Let it all hang out. I feel you.]

Landscapers: Ok guys, I understand that you’ve got a lot of ground to cover (no pun intended) and that requires you to start the day extra early to please all of your clients, one of whom happens to be the landlord of my apartment. I have no problem with you guys manicuring the lawn (because the thought of operating any type of lawnmower scares the living crap out of me–wierd childhood fear), but I do have trouble justifying the fact that you come at 7 am every. single. Monday. Coincidentally, 7 is four hours earlier than I ever plan on waking up on a Monday. I’m sure you can understand why it could be difficult to sleep through someone weedwhacking right under my window. On the bright side, you do wake me up early enough to possibly be a productive citizen, so I actually didn’t mind my chainsaw alarm last Monday when it got me to go to the library earlier–until I walked outside and got dirt in my eyes from the huge clouds you stirred up with the leafblowers. Will you never let me have my peace!? Read More »

[I like to think of myself as a pretty easy going gal, and try not to sweat the small stuff. But sometimes (ok, maybe slightly more often) the general cluelessness, carelessness and overall stupididty of some things and or/people really gets to me. I find that venting is the most efficient way to rid myself of the stress that idiots, wrong meal orders, lack of cell phone ettiquette and cheese flavored products (that don’t even contain any freaking cheese!) induce.

So, in an attempt to avoid an ulcer or an unfortuante road rage incident, I vent to you, dear reader. Please feel free to join in and comment about anything–really, anything–that pissed. you. off. this week. Let it all hang out. I feel you.]

D&G Advertisements: More specifically, the one featured in January’s Vanity Fair (page 9). I just don’t understand; why is Claudia Schiffer orgasming on a very sandy and very hard looking dock? I can think of more comfortable places. Furthermore, if I were wearing an expensive D&G silk…romper(?) and kickass stilettos, I would not want to get them dirty on some grimy beach dock (not that I wear stilettos to the beach). Add to this the two models in tweed suits apparently mentally controlling aforementioned orgasm-girl, the uber-tanned, super muscled old women and body builder in the background, and Dolce and Gabanna have convinced me that strange things will ensue if I ever can afford to buy anything from their 2009 cruise collection. Read More »

[I like to think of myself as a pretty easy going gal, and try not to sweat the small stuff. But sometimes (ok, maybe slightly more often) the general cluelessness, carelessness and overall stupididty of some things and or/people really gets to me. I find that venting is the most efficient way to rid myself of the stress that idiots, wrong meal orders, lack of cell phone ettiquette and cheese flavored products (that don’t even contain any freaking cheese!) induce.

So, in an attempt to avoid an ulcer or an unfortuante road rage incident, I vent to you, dear reader. Please feel free to join in and comment about anything–really, anything–that pissed. you. off. this week. Let it all hang out. I feel you.]

People who talk in the library:

Within the stacks, there is always a pretty clear-cut volume hierarchy. You know the second floor computer lounge is bound to be buzzing with group discussions and Facebook revelers taking a break from the books. You also are well aware that the most hidden recesses with “QUIET ZONE” flyers plastered everywhere are meant to be serenely silent. This means that you— Pencil Tap to the Baseline of “Heartless” Guy —are not welcome. You, Girl Who Answers Her Super Effing Loud Ring Tone and Proceeds to Discuss Last Night’s Exploits Loudly, should excuse yourself (and forget your student ID so you can’t get back into the library). “I will listen to my iPod at ear shattering treble and, yes I know you can hear it across the room” Man, I will gladly drop your Nano in my Starbucks if you don’t crank it down. And especially you two, Pretentious Indie D-Bags Discussing Kafka Loudly Enough So We All Know How Devastatingly Brilliant You Are—I might be impressed if I were not attempting to study for my OWN final, not yours.

Chicken Littles.

Everyone has encountered at least one individual with the gift to spread anxiety like a pandemic. It’s hard to tell if their jittery twitching is nerve, coffee, or crack induced as they rattle off dates mentioned in your European History class. Your study group becomes hazardous to your health with this study buddy around—their catastrophic what-if scenarios about the final are ulcer inducing, and your confidence level will plummet as they convince themselves (and you) that achieving anything above a 69 % in this course is utterly ridiculous and completely impossible. If they can’t convince you that the sky is falling, they’ll get you to believe your GPA is. Read More »