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 shout the name of movies as the previews roll: Obviously, people who talk during movies are a**holes. That’s why the cute food from the concession stand urges you not to! And previously to my last cinematic experience, I could care less about the people who talked during previews (I mean, most of the time I’m not even there yet so I can’t hate.) Then I sat behind a guy who was of the mindset that I had entered his private theater, and was in for a treat as he displayed his psychic/ trivia powers. As soon as the trailer had been running for 5 seconds, he would confidently (and really effing loudly) shout the title of the movie being advertised. Seriously?! The only thing worse than this habit was the beaming look he kept giving his wife, who reluctantly high fived him when he got one right. This is why I have Netflix…

Lack of the Yuletide spirit. Maybe it’s just because I live in Florida and the closest thing we’ve got to snow is the shaved ice on the rims of tropical drinks, but I still don’t feel like Christmas is in less than 4 days (despite department stores putting up their decor the day after Halloween). I mean, there’s a lack of lights on houses, the malls are still empty, even my Christmas tree doesn’t have that magical scent. I guess the economic blues have replaced the seasonal mirth this year. I’m not demanding carolers or anything (although a good rendition of “O Holy Night” hits the spot every time), but please, if there really is a Santa Clause (or a Hannukah Harry) send me a little seasonal joy.

The Houdini Friend. We’ve all got that one friend. She’s awesome, sweet, hilarious– and one of your favorite drinking buddies. What’s not to love? And then you are reminded with her next whirlwind crush. She’s got a pretty reliable two week relationship lifespan… with every new guy she meets. She becomes so enamored for the first 5 or 6 days that you don’t see her at all, and her disappearing act could earn her a spot in Vegas (hence the title). The next thing you know, she’s calling you to constantly to bitch about Prince Charming’s flaws (who knew you could find so much to complain about in one week?). Finally, you end up consoling her as she breezes through boxes of Kleenex (she really thought this was finally the one) before insisting that you go out for a girls’ night. Requisite dancing around to Spice Girls, getting ready and pre-gaming ensues, then BAM! Homegirl has slinked off into a secluded corner to be wooed by the newest Flavor of the Week…

Stupid co-workers: Namely, that girl you’ve been training for the last… 2 months. Whether she’s f**king up the official phone greeting, he’s the guy who just can’t seem to grasp the concept of his minimum wage schtick, or she’s the hostess constantly overloading you with (or worse, neglecting to give you any) tables. You dread working with them, just because you know that your day or shift will be inundated with absolutely idiotic questions. You’ve subtly hinted to your boss just how incompetent they really are, but just don’t have the heart to come out and scream : “FIRE THAT DUMBA**!” It’s ok. You can post it on the comments—we understand here.