It's The Little Things That Make Me Hate Everything

I don't really want to use this blog to bitch about acquaintances of mine that annoy me but I'm going to anyway.

 I don't like anyone I work with. That doesn't mean that I hate them, it simply means that I don't want to have to interact with them. I don't want to talk to them, or be friends with them, or get to know them, or have to give a shit about anything going on in their personal lives. I think I get along with everybody well enough, I mean nobody wishes death upon me, as far I know anyway. I try my best to be friendly and shit, and I certainly don't wish them any harm, but deep down I just don't care.

I'd call myself mostly indifferent with the exception of one particular woman. Said woman is carving a gaping hole in my my sanity and soul with every unbearable word that falls out of her god forsaken mouth. Now you might think that sounds a little harsh and I guarantee you it is. I meant it to be. That's what I was going for when I wrote it. You must understand that there is no big obvious feature of her's that stands out that I can directly and aggressively hate. No, instead this woman is the embodiment of everything that irritates me. She is the most annoying, exhausting human being I have ever met. Now, I'm not going to go too far into the reasons because it's all little things and there are about 4 billion of them. Simply thinking about her wears me out. But I will tell you this. She doesn't know how to shut the fuck up. She is constantly talking. I don't know how she manages to breath with the way that those useless words tumble out of her horrible mouth. The best part of this being that about 70% of this nonstop chatter is made up of complaints. Complaints about everything. Everything is the hardest thing in the world for her to endure.  She makes me want to throw up all over the place. Not because she makes me sick but because I want to force her to clean it up. Which would make her sick and really I just want to cause her pain because she's never really experienced it. Oh, she'd tell you ALL about how she has, but no, no she hasn't. Although cleaning up puke is more icky than painful to your average person she's such a whiny little drama queen that it would be excruciating for her. It would be like someone digging out her insides with a rusty spoon.

What am I getting at? Oh yeah.

This post is actually not about all that. I just needed to get that out of my system. (Thank you for letting me share.) What I would like to tell you about is actually one of the smallest, most insignificant things that this woman does that, at most, simply causes me a few seconds of slight confusion.

I work in custom framing which, at times, has the potential to be a pretty okay job. Unfortunately this woman, whose mere existence completely and utterly offends mine, also works in custom framing. Worse yet, at the same place, and sometimes, with total disregard for my mental health, at the same time. The thing she does that I originally intended to write a few simple sentences about (I was even contemplating just updating it on twitter) is.... Whenever she writes a customer's name and/or order number she writes the letters S and M in front.

S/M Johnson, Bill 22786

Be it on the orders that are waiting to be completed, the frames she checks in, the hundreds of notes she leaves that are as pointless and rambling as herself...everything. This doesn't really bother me. It sometimes makes me think for a few second that the customer's name starts with an "S" but that's it. It doesn't make my job any harder and it doesn't cause any problems so the only reason I care is "Why?" I asked her about it once and she said it stands for "BLAH BLAH who fucking cares!?" I'm paraphrasing here because I don't remember what she said because she is painful to listen to. What I managed to retain was that it is apparently something they did at one of her old jobs when they checked in whatever the hell it was that they were checking in.

"Well it's not something that we do here. We have our own system. So, you don't need to do it because it doesn't mean anything to anybody else."

She still does it. Every time she write a customer's name. S/M without fail. I find this rather bizarre. Why does she so adamantly continue to do something so pointless? It's not really because it's a habit that she can't break as she claims. She does it with obvious intent. The best I can figure is that she does it because she thinks it makes her interesting. It's something quirky to set herself apart. This thought makes me sad.

An Epic Laundry Tale

My apartment complex is huge. It takes up an entire street. Fortunately for me it has 3 laundry rooms spaced appropriately. Each apartment has washer/dryer hook ups but I posses neither, so these laundry rooms are very important in helping me not have dirty, smelly clothes. But they recently replaced all the super convenient, perfectly functional coin operated machines with ones that you need a preloaded card to use. Then just to upset me they put the magical-laundry-card-money-loading-machine in the laundry room at the other end of the complex/street. I have to use a debt or credit card to put money onto my new shiny laundry card and I can only do it in $10 increments. So fuck that! The apartment gods however, graciously left two washer and two dryers of the coin operated sort for us rebels who refuse to conform to their new evil ways. I found out there are quite a few people who have joined me in the laundry resistance. So those two washer/dryers are always in use. Last week one of the washers broke and has yet to be fixed, I found out today, leaving only one. Whenever I do my laundry I try to be gracious and take out my clothes as soon as they're done so that one of my comrades my then take part.

"Where is this going?" You ask.
"Why are you writing about laundry?" You ask.
Well you're the one reading it, so who's stupid now? If you had exercised a little patience we would be there already.

Ahem. Today I went to go wash my white work shirts only to find both machines ocupado. So I returned to my apartment in defeat but determind to return. I let a couple hours pass before my return. Upon said return what should I encounter? The same motherfucking clothes in the machines! That cunt faced cunt! So I humbly retreated once again, let a couple more hours pass before my next attempt. This time I had made preperations. So with a look of determination in my eye, armed with a bag of dirty clothes, dergant, some quarters and a note I made my way to the lauindry room. To my pleasnat surprise I found one of the machines to be vacant. I put in my 4 quarters and selected the "whites" cycle.

FUCK! this is the broken machine. I swear I saw clothes in here earlier. Twice! It was whites along with one yellow shirt and they were wet. Why did the laundry gods favor them and not me?
I proceeded to hit the coin return button repeatedly with no results. This is where my before mentioned note comes into play. It simply explained that I needed to use the machine because I didn't have any money on my card and that her neglected clothes were in the dryer. I'm paraphrasing, I probably didn't call her clothes "neglected" even though they really and truly are. I opened the sole remaining brother of the poor fallen coin operated washing machine, same clothes still inside, most of which was women's underwear and proceeded to fearlessly transfer the wretched clothes to the nearest dryer. Triumphant, I put my white shirts in and reached for my quarters.

FFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKK!!!!!

Only 3? THREE!?!?!
I raced back home and scrounged up the needed quarter. Finally! I put my detergent in and closed the lid. Now all I need to do is  retrieve my shirts. I will hang dry them and all will be right with the world

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Quick follow up: The dryer that I transferred the hated clothes to was running. Maybe lot's-of-underwear-owning-bitch will realize that there are other people in the world. People who need to wash outerwear.

Why Not?

I'm having a really hard time understanding the reasons behind the anti-gay marriage agenda. Honestly, I don't get what the message is, or the point of the message, or the goal they're hoping to attain. It's making me feel kind of dumb, or maybe dumbfounded, because I'm really at a loss here. I always try to get a good understanding of the other sides beliefs & arguments because 1: I want to be sure I'm on the right side (I don't want to blindly oppose or believe in anything) & 2: I want to be able to properly refute them. Ignorance is not our friend. I can usually piece together some sort of argument from the right wing's crazy, selfish rants, but this time...

It's like that whole "Tea Party" thing. What the fuck was that all about?

There is obviously a big piece of something that I'm missing here. I get the whole religious thing, kinda. I mean it's fucking retarded, but at least I know where their fucking retarded belief is coming from. But, I have really hard time believing that all the people that oppose gay marriage and voted in favor of Prop 8 are hard core fundamentalist Christians. Are there any arguments against gay marriage that don't have a religious agenda? I mean what the fuck does "Protect Marriage" really mean? If that's the case shouldn't we ban divorce? I know all these arguments have already been made & all the hypocrisies have been pointed out so I don't feel like I need to go there. I'm just trying to wrap my brain around this. Why do they care what people do with their personal lives? How does it affect them? What is the driving force behind all this impassioned hate? I think most of these people just think gay sex is icky. It makes them uncomfortable therefore it should disappear.

I don't' see how this is even an issue that can be voted on, it's basic civil rights. It seems highly unconstitutional to be able to amend the constitution to discriminate against & restrict the rights of a specific group of people. I think that's why I'm having a really hard time with this. I don't like to think that people are this horrible. I'm disgusted & appalled and very confused at how people can hate each other & want to hurt one another over something as trivial as sexual orientation. Maybe my brain is missing a piece because....

I'm sorry I know I'm kind of rambling & just repeating myself but I just don't get it. Everyone has made the comparisons to racial discrimination which is a good example because it's exactly the same, everyone would be horrified if the government stopped an interracial couple from marrying (hopefully). I think in about 50 years, when homosexuality is considered perfectly normal and fully accepted & embraced by society (hopefully), we'll all look back on this as an embarrassing and prejudice time period in American history. I'm having difficulty articulating myself, because it's shocking to me that people would oppose other's happiness and freedom. I'm on the verge of tears right now. This is a hard one to swallow.

It's not like I'm some big romantic who thinks everyone should fall in love and get married and have a white picket fence and live happily ever after or some shit like that. I personally don't really believe in marriage in general. I don't want to get married. I see marriage as archaic and unnecessary at best, & at worst I see it as sexist, religious propaganda where women are no more then sex/domestic slaves in a legal binding contract.(I'll marry your daughter & take her off your hands if you throw in that mule. But if she doesn't produce me a son I'll kill the bitch.) It's not romantic to me. To me it seems to be all about appeasing your god, your parents, & your government. I'm not saying I'll never get married, maybe my mind will change, maybe 10 years from now I'll desperately want it. But for now that's just how I feel. I'm way too young, I haven't even established myself & my own life yet. It's my choice to not get married just like if I change my mind it'll be my choice to file a joint tax return. & if I meet a pretty girl who steals my heart away from Tim it should be my choice to marry her.

In summary - You and your prejudices can go fuck each other in the ass

I Want My Apocalyse God Damnit

I have this fascinated obsession with the end of the world. I just think it'll be so much fun. I like to toy with apocalyptic scenarios, some plausible some not. Of course zombie outbreak being at the forefront. (wait..Is that a grammatically correct sentence? It really doesn't seem like one. Oh well)
I like the idea of world wide social destruction. Civilization wiped out. No more cities, no communication network, very limited technology. Don't get me wrong, I love technology but wiping it out is part of the apocalyptic package. I mean it wouldn't feel like the end of the world if you could still tweet about it. For my scenarios to work, about 90% of mankind needs to die in a very short amount of time. It could be anything really...nuclear war, alien invasion, virus pandemic, natural disaster, mass suicide. I think I would prefer something dramatic like a deadly meteor shower, or the second coming of Christ. Whichever way it happens I just hope it happens in my lifetime. Not right now, maybe in like 20 years. I'll have lived a considerable full life by then, but I'll still be young enough to appreciate it and enjoy the end times. So Jesus if you're reading this (& I know you are) pencil in your second coming for my 40th birthday. It would make a nice present.

Who Decided That People Have To Like Each Other?

It's not like I haven't tried. I just haven't found anybody I can relate to. I want to be able to hold a real conversation. I want someone I can talk with, not to. I just can't seem to find common ground with anybody. I don't think I'm that different. I'm not that much of an obscure misanthrope. I like normal mainstream stuff...I'm watching the new season of American Idol for Christ's sake. Everybody thinks I'm too quiet. I've been told I'm quiet by every single fucking person I've ever fucking encountered in my entire fucking life. Doesn't exactly make me want to talk (scream maybe). I think I put too much thought into it, and definitely expect too much in return. I try not to talk about things that I know the person I'm with doesn't know/care about and there is nothing I despise more that empty small talk. So I usually end up saying nothing. I wish more people would extend the courtesy. But I realize that most people don't care if you're actually listening or understanding. They just want to hear themselves talk. It's more dreadful when they realize that you're faining interest and they assume it's simply because you're a moron whose never heard of Easter before and think that they need to explain it to you, as if then the shit that's coming out their mouth will turn into delicious chocolate eggs of information. (This happened!...not the egg part) People hate that I'm quiet, not just in amount of words but also in lack of volume, because, and I'm almost certain of this, in modern society the louder you are, the more valid your points. They get angry and resentful because I don't scream "good morning" in their face and ask how their cat is. Of course I am mostly referring to coworkers and it's not fair to hold them to the standards of human kind. They are an entirely different string of DNA. But I'm not solely talking about coworkers cause it's been this way with everybody I've ever been forced to spend my precious, what could be alone time with, ever since I was a little antisocial child. I love when they think it's because I'm shy and when I do talk it must mean that I really like them and they've gained my trust. I'm opening up to them. They're bringing me out of my shell.
They hate me all the more when they see me reading or writing. It becomes their civic duty to interrupt me and save me from the mind numbing activity I'm engaged in to ask me what it's about or for. And when they find out it's not for school or work or anything mandatory, that it's purely for pleasure, I think they honestly get offended. I'm deriving enjoyment and experiencing emotions in a form that they will never understand without anybody else's help. I think, that they think, that I think, that I'm better than them. Which I do, because I am. Even worse than the hate is the competition. Either the "I hate reading. I've never read a whole book, not even for school," as if they're too good to read. They're above reading, and it's said with such pride. The condescending idiot never ceases to amaze and infuriate. Or the always dreadful, groan inducing "Oh I love reading," as if they can be credited with it's discovery. "Right now I'm reading Fight Club. It's sooooo good. it's like social commentary dude" the words saturated with pretension. They might as well start masturbating and yelling words with more than 4 syllables. I'd be far more impressed.

Here have shitty poem I wrote... non existent people who aren't reading this:

Keep repeating old cliches,
to hear the sound of yourself.
Never adding a new idea.
Just making noise to fill the void.
Talking in scribbles.
Finding comfort in your own voice.
Trying to remind yourself you're still alive.
You'll waste your life lost in small talk.
Hold on to your connections.
Wrap yourself in bubble wrap.
and warm yourself by the TV.