Entries in Sarcasm (8)
I feel like a bag full of assholes1 today and wasn’t planning on writing anything. The Cedar tree pollen is raping my face. The Candyman is suffering as well. New state, new spring allergies to fuck with us both. FAN-tastic! So I’m already a might bit surly, with nastiness running down the back of my throat, occasionally pit-stopping in my mouth. Nice, right? Y’all are lucky I’m not feeling more descriptive today.
I was tooling around the interwebs and happened across a planner’s blog. I’m not going to link the tool because I certainly don’t want to encourage traffic there. The mystery blog’s post was in regards to tiaras, Princess Kate’s borrowed Cartier (can you imagine that conversation? “Yo, HRH! Can I borrow some bling?” OK, maybe not…) and a description of “What’s Hot and What’s Not.” From the post…
…eschewing my earlier warning. Now that we’ll see trends pouring out of the UK and into mass retail for brides to consume with utter abandon, take heed and avoid the tiara . . . we advise against the fake-it-till-you-make-it adage here, girls. Your $32 Moissanite version ain’t. cutting. it.
OK, so in the less than 10 minutes I spent on this blog, I saw the word “eschew” no less than 3 times. OK, Mr. Fancy Pants. We get it. There were some pictures of tiaras that the author posted as lame. Were they lame? Yeah, kinda. But they also looked like they were circa 1998.
I definitely left a “shame on you” comment because what I think is LAME is the attitude. There ain’t a damn thing wrong with a fake-it-till-you-make-it approach to weddings. I mean, holychristonabike, that’s what my wedding was ALL ABOUT! My favorite blogs are the ones that gave me inspiration that wasn’t Cartier or Stuart Weitzman or letterpress invitations or Lily of the Valley bouquets or Vera Wang. And to this very day, I look back at my wedding and think I did a damn fine job of faking it, thank you very much.
So in a retaliation post of sorts (here I go, starting a ruckus again), I’m going to feature TIARAS, mothereffers. Pretty ones. Ones that don’t suck. Ones that aren’t Cartier. That WIC planner can suck it.
Jenny Packman via Studded Hearts
My advice to this planner (now that I’ve calmed down a bit) is this: how about constructive criticism versus leading brides away from a trend they really might want. How about, “avoiding dated ribbon curls or pointy buns or tiaras that don’t seem to fit?” How about helping the bride with her wedding day hair and talking about options? Ask how she really wants to look and feel on her wedding day. How about researching the look for affordable unique designs that don’t have to smack of tacky? Sheesh.
So there. Go ahead and get your princess on.
1Feeling coined by Marie, the day after my wedding.
OK, I'm gonna take back my snarky comments about the planner. He wrote me an email regarding my comment on his blog and explained his "slightly acerbic and tongue-in-cheek" approach to "Hot or Not."
Having been misunderstood a-plenty on my own blog, I gotta give the guy props for writing me and explaining himself.
I'm going to blame tree pollen and sore throat for my tiara-tirade. To the planner? Props, dude. My bad.
Never has a black cloud followed me so persistently! I'm trying to think back over the long list of my dastardly deeds to see what has generated such a string of bad gu-gu. Generally fate and I go tit-for-tat and I'm cool with that. However, recently the scale has been weighted heavily on the negative karma side and I'm totally not down with that. At all.
Over the last 2 months I've had the following episodes occur:
- Massive sinus infection that left me incapacitated for a week followed immediately by...
- My first encounter with Preparation H. Yes, that. Several doctor's appointments and lots of uncomfortable situations and 2 weeks later I was finally H-free. Yes, it's gross. Yes, it made me feel like a freakin' decrepit old codger. No, I'm not pregnant.
- Car vandalism.
- Roof leak.
- Insurance bullshit.
- Internet access denial.
This last one is the latest. See, I just wanted to get a new cell phone. We have been encouraged to use our work cell phones as our personal cell phones. I have been okay with that scenario for a while, but really haven't been happy with it recently. I mean, my company has access to all the personal calls I make. Not so sure I like that. The Big Brother aspect just started to smell stinky. I decided that I'd add a line to The Candyman's Verizon plan since AT&T cell service pretty much sucks at our house. You have to go upstairs to the back bedroom just to keep the call from dropping. Lame, right? So I call up Verizon, we figure out the best plan and I'm good to go, right? Well, I happened to mention canceling my home land line to the Verizon lady and she's all, "Well, we can port over your land line to your new cell line and you can keep your home number as your cell number." I'm all, "Hey! That rocks! Yeah, let's do that! What do I need to do?" And she tells me that I don't have to do anything and that it will just take a few days for the number to port over.
Yeah. She fails to mention (or ask me) if I have a DSL line that also goes through the same land line number. And guess what "port over" means? It means "cancel your entire phone service with your current carrier." So, buh-bye to my DSL on Friday night. So after three straight weeks of calling the insurance company to get shit figured out, I now have to call Verizon and figure out the fuck up. And they can't do anything because they don't do DSL. So now I have to call AT&T and to get it worked out. And let me tell you how HARD it is to get the right phone number to get that set up when you don't have the internet. I actually had to call Verizon back to get them to look it up. How freakin' lame is that? So, now we have to set up a whole new account for our DSL, which we won't get until Wednesday.Such a silly, stupid little mistake that just makes life so crazy and inconvenient.
And let me tell you how TIRED I am of pressing this number or that number and entering my account number fifty-seven million times in order to get a live, living person to speak to. And no, hitting zero doesn't always accomplish that. Companies have gotten wise to that move and now don't allow you to do that. Asses.
AND WHAT? ALL WEEKEND WITH NO INTERNET? You try it. Suckage. Although, I have to say that I have gotten a ton of stuff accomplished in the last three days. No blogs to distract me. No Netflix to suck my time. I have felt totally cut off though. To add fuel to my blazing fire, my office had a "catastrophic failure" and we have been without internet access there as well. I asked The Candyman if he would do a guest post today for me and I think that request may have come a little too early in the morning as I got a big fat negative on that one. I won't even tell you what I've done to gain access. It's kind of sad, really.
But by Saturday morning I'd had it. So had The Candyman. We were cleaning up the house for a viewing (oh, did I mention we're selling our casa?) and the poop hit the fan, so to speak. I was banging around upstairs, The Candyman was banging around downstairs and I heard him leave. Generally, we don't part ways unless it's a super-gruesome brawl and generally, we communicate the need to retreat to our respective corners. So I'm thinking, "What's he so pissed about? I'M the one who should be mad!" About the time I'm thinking this, I hear him come home. He walks into the bathroom I'm scrubbing and holds out a fist full of money. He says, "Here. I got this [meaning the cleaning of the house]. You need to chill. Go shopping. Go get a pedicure. Go buy some fabric. Take this money and go."
So I did.
Retail therapy is just the best. I went and got a mani-pedi and I didn't even have to wait for my favorite mani-pedi chick. She was free and ready to go. I went to Kristin Steele's open house to celebrate her full-time launch into full-time photography where I met up with Sharon of Jonathon Campbell Photography. I ran into Jessica (aka The Budget Savvy Bride) and just hung out at Wedding 101 for awhile. I twisted Sharon's arm and made her go have a cocktail with me afterwards!
I got home late, swung by Blue Coast Burrito first and pigged out on cheesy taco goodness. Then I ate left over cupcakes that Kristin had sent home with us.
I think Karma and I are about even. Um, so Karma? You can stop fucking with me now. Thanks, I appreciate it.
[Before I start my rant, I'd just like to say that The Candyman is currently singing "I'm a Wolverine! I'm a Wolverine!" downstairs in the kitchen and I'm not really understanding that at all.]
I am so irritated. So irritated. I get these email listing updates from a guy who is probably going to be our realtor only because he is the least annoying out of all the other realtors who have crossed our path in the last few weeks. I mean, holy shit. We looked at some open houses last weekend and it was all we could do not to smack the shit out of each realtor we met. And why is it that most realtors are 50+ women with helmet-hair, too much make-up, acrylic nails and the inability to shut the fuck up? Why is that? Just curious, that's all.
So anyway, this dude emails me a listing at 8:30pm on Sunday. It was listed yesterday. The house just happens to be in the fancy-pants area of our neighborhood. I show The Candyman the listing and he's really interested, as am I. We throw on our shoes and actually walk over to take a look at the house last night. I call Mr. Realtor and make an appointment to see it at 7pm tonight.
He calls us at 6:20pm and tells us it's sold. SOLD. TODAY! WHAT is going on? I thought this was a down economy. I thought no one was buying houses. What is going on, I ask you? This is not a "first-time buyers" kinda house, so I don't think it was a tax-credit sale. This thought pisses me off even more.
We are just so upset. We didn't even get to see the inside and me and The Candyman are just so sad. Have I mentioned that this doesn't make any sense? How can we mourn this house when we didn't even really get to see it? But here, just look at how cute it freakin' is.
I am so pissed.
Mr. Realtor sent me some other listings tonight. I think it was an effort to ease the pain, but it only made things worse. It's like being forced out on a blind date after a nasty break-up. It's just too soon. This house broke up with us. Bitch.
Maybe the loan won't go through. Maybe the people who made the offer will get fired and not be able to buy it. Maybe they'll take a cruise and be lost at sea. Or maybe they'll feel daring and eat that Japanese blowfish dish and keel over, chopsticks in hand.
The Candyman has suggested going over and egging the house, just to make ourselves feel better. I contemplated it, but that's kinda like calling and hanging up (pre-caller ID days)and I'm just not that kind of girl. Maybe when the new owners move in, I'll take them a lemon bundt cake with a pretty, white drizzle icing made with arsenic and powdered sugar. That'll teach those sons of bitches for buying my house.
Nooooooo, I am not vindictive at all.
In the meantime, go below and enter the wedding sign contest. Yes, the pictures are effed up and I've got some complaining to do with my web host. GOD DAMMIT!
And let me tell you why....
I lived in California for five and half years. I lived in San Diego for about a year and then I lived in Los Angeles for the remaining years. I lived six miles from the epicenter of the Northridge earthquake and endured all that went with that nightmare. I have been evacuated for fires. My car died in the left-hand lane of the Sepulveda Pass during rush hour (you LA folks will understand that particular hell) during pre-cell phone days. I worked in the heart of South Central during the OJ Simpson verdict. My neighbor wanted me to take a gun to work with me on that day, in case there were riots. I feel having served my time in the state, I am at liberty to bitch about it.
Has anyone heard of Title 20? No? Let me tell you about it. It's this new, totally bullshit Energy Efficiency law that requires everyone to "do their part" when it comes to energy conservation. That sounds like a mighty fine thing on the surface, right? Right. Californians voted on this bad-boy, that means it's something that the folks in that state should have to deal with, right? Wrong.
This title, all 532 pages of it, is a nightmare for thousands (yes, thousands) of people OUTSIDE the state of California. Why? Because it requires that any form of lighting that is shipped into the state be compliant with their energy efficiency laws. The lighting requirements are only part of the title, but is the part that most affects why I'm pissed, so I'm only going to focus on that. How it affects a bazillion other appliances is beyond my scope of comprehension.
As a supplier of portable lighting to the state of California, my company (as well as hundreds of other companies) is now required to include a CFL bulb (those new twisty bulbs that cost a fortune but last forever)with the lamp. Some people might think,"Well, what's the big deal? Just add a bulb!" Yeah.....not as easy as it sounds when:
1. Your picking and shipping out of your warehouse is completely automated. How do you suddenly stop that whole process and pull out all the boxes of lamps that need to go only to California?
2. How much will it cost to reprogram that entire automated system to account for this, assuming you can figure out how to program it?
3. As a home decor company, we now have to invest in light bulbs? Really expensive light bulbs?Really?
4. Let's talk for a minute about how expensive the manual labor is in the warehouse to pull these boxes, open them, stuff a bulb in, repack and put back into the once-automated shipping process. It ain't cheap folks. These warehouse workers are UNION. Do not fuck with the Union.
Some other thoughts:
1. How is it now the manufacturer's responsibility to make sure the people of California use a CFL bulb?
2. Who is to say that the retailers won't just take the bulb for personal use?
3. Who is to say that the consumer will use that bulb in the that particular lamp anyway?
4. As far as we can tell, there is no law that says the retailer must provide the bulb to the consumer, yet people from outside the state of California must incur the cost on all levels to provide the retailer with that bulb.
I just don't get it. I mean, Prop 65 was bad enough. That's the law that basically says that anything that includes chemicals known to the state to cause cancer or reproductive toxicity (at a level of 0.100 parts per MILLION) must be identified and labeled as such to the consumer. So, let's say that I have a RED candleholder that has about as much lead in the paint as a red M-n-M (that you eat). OK, it's maybe a little more than that, but let's just say that it has as much lead as the old M-N-M's that they stopped making for a while. Companies now have to label that candleholder with a warning that it's possibly toxic. Sure, it's toxic - maybe if you lick that candleholder every day for the next 20 years. Then you might get tongue cancer. But dude, if you are licking red candle-holders every day for the next 20 years, you've got much bigger issues than cancer. Seriously.
While these laws are based with the best intentions, the realty is that they just don't work. Should plates and forks and drink ware have to be tested for toxicity? Absolutely. Should we all be more energy efficient and use CFL bulbs? Sure. In fact, by 2012, incandescent bulbs will be a thing of the past. The US Government has seen to that. Just wait for it, it's coming. And guess what? There are people out there with illnesses that don't allow them to be under fluorescent lighting. Guess those folks are going to have to suck it up, right?
Considering that the state of California is just about bankrupt, you'd think that they would not want to piss off their suppliers of goods, right? Apparently not, as they do a really good job of doing so. There are companies out there that will not ship product to the state of California because of their laws. If they insist on compliance, they just might get it in the form of a California boycott. Let them be self-sufficient then if they are so holier-than-thou. Let's see how that goes. Didn't North Korea give that a go?
California is just so stupid.
*Californians - feel free to retaliate if you feel the need to, but keep in mind that I have the right to delete snarky comments, even though this blog is snarky. It's my blog. I'm in charge. :)