Joelle said in the early afternoon on September 7, 2008
I’m still not entirely sure how I am now the loving owner of a mini Netherland Dwarf bunny when I wanted a dog. But, when your landlord won’t let you have a dog and you’re allergic to cats, this is what happens. I went with mikey to the swap meet, of all places, and fell in love with this weensy little runt of a bunny. She loves to sleep against my chest and make little bunny sighs and kick her feet as she dreams. She’s got the fluffiest little bunny tail and overall, while I’m still in a bit of shock that I own a rabbit (a rabbit, people! I own a rabbit! I told Ross just yesterday that I didn’t see myself ever owning a rabbit. Who knew?), I’m really happy that she’s here.
And despite how cute Lulu is and how sweet she is and her little bunny feets, the best part thus far has been Kathy’s response via text when I told her that I just bought a rabbit.
Joelle said at some point on September 4, 2008
Last night, my friend mikey came over to watch Project Runway with me and we ran out to grab some takeout before it started. We stopped at Rite Aid to pick up some beverages and Rocky Road before heading back to watch Heidi Klum walk around being gorgeous.
The line at this Rite Aid is always slow and for some reason, people always form one big line instead of lining up at each register (there are eight registers), then the next checker that is available takes the next customer. Well, last night, there was an Asian dude in front of us holding two bottles of wine, a crotchety guy in a yellow shirt holding a box of Tucks or something, this Isaac Hayes (R.I.P.)-type guy (who we saw tip his hat at someone earlier — I love that), and then 3 registers with customers already being helped.
One cashier finished and called out, “I’ll take the next person!” and Crotchety Yellow Shirt and his hemorrhoid pads tried to dash out behind Isaac Hayes Guy, but Isaac Hayes Guy was no fool and he cut Crotchety off, taking his rightful place at the counter. Crotchety grumbled and griped, but shuffled back into line, ahead of the Asian Wine Drinker. While this was going on, a strapping middle-aged, tank-top wearing homosexual (not that his sexuality is relevant, but it paints a picture and I happened to be in the gayborhood) with a cart full of ammonia bottles and paper towels pulls up in line behind us.
Asian Wine Drinker keeps looking around the store, turning around and looking past us, past Ammonia Mo, all over the place. But before I could ponder what he was looking for, Isaac Hayes Guy was finishing his transaction.
This is where I kind of lost my cool.
One of my biggest pet peeves in this world is people who “cut”. I hate when I’m stuck behind someone in traffic with my signal blinking, desperate to find an opening in the next lane so I can dash out and pass the slowpoke in front of me. That’s bad enough, but what really chafes is the jerk immediately behind you that takes your window of opportunity, leaving you in the dust. The same principle applies to queuing at the store.
As soon as the cashier called the next person, Ammonia Mo without any regard for common decency, maneuvered his cart out of the line and darted over to the open cashier while the rest of us stood there with untreated butt issues, unopened wine, and melting ice cream.
My mouth fell open. I loudly said to mikey and Asian Wine Guy, “Oh, I’m sorry! Were you first? I didn’t notice you...” I continued to bitch loud enough for the guy to hear me. But he didn’t care. That’s the part that just blows me away. Yes, it’s rude to cut in line, but at least act like you feel bad about it. At least Crotchety Yellow Shirt grudgingly went back into line. I mean, you don’t even care that people in line think you’re a complete and utter douchebag? He just kept loading his bottles of ammonia up on the counter, looking stoically straight ahead. He knew he was a jerk, but he. didn’t. care. I realize that I, like many humans, care too much what people think on occasion, but this is ridiculous. This is an affront on common courtesy, on societal decency… and frankly, it’s just plain dick.
Once a few years ago, I scolded at a guy in a home improvement store because we’d all been waiting an aeon in a line and a guy walked up to the line just as a new register was being opened. And then there was the time I shamed Diaper Debbie in front a whole Sprint store. I am beyond over this kind of rudeness and I’m not afraid to call someone out on their assholery.
I was about to do just that (much to mike’s chagrin, I’m sure), but before I could, Ammonia Mo started loading his stuff back in his cart. I thought that for once the establishment was going to act on behalf of it’s customers and tell the guy to wait his turn, but no… he’d forgotten his wallet. Just desserts, I guess.
My parents, even in the short time I had with them, instilled me with manners, respect for others, understanding that the whole world doesn’t revolve around me (despite what I thought when I was 15) and the knowledge that there are just some things that you don’t do. It’s just a given. I can’t believe I saw this kind of rudeness twice in one night, in one line within a matter of minutes! What the hell is wrong with people?
Joelle said around lunch time on September 2, 2008
I realize the only people that will get this are those that use Yahoo Messenger and know what that Audible sounds like. I tried to find a recording of it to no avail. Still, I must save it for posterity.
Joelle said around mid-morning on August 31, 2008
Yesterday the Wiener Nationals Wiener Dog Races were being held at Qualcomm Stadium and of course, I had to go. Last year, I had the Nikon D80 that was on loan to me, so I spent a lot of time taking photos and not actually petting dogs. Since this year I no longer had a fancy camera, I vowed, “I intend to focus more of an effort on touching wieners this year.” Strangely enough, I had to same goal at the start of my Senior year.
And touch wieners I did! There were so many this time, big, small, wee, long, dappled, chubby, crooked, one-eyed… and I loved them all (dogs, people… I’m talking about dogs). But what really caught my eye was the Chihuahua Rescue booth. I’ve never been a huge chihuahua fan, but I’ve realized that it’s the owners that make them so yippy and annoying, not necessarily the dog itself. There were some of the sweetest little dogs in there and one, a pale blonde and white male currently named Bixby totally melted my heart.
He was leaping in the air in his little playpen really high, like “Look at me! Look at me!”. When I approached, he stopped and sat calmly, sticking his wee nose through the gate to sniff me. When a little girl picked him up (one of the foster family members), he squirmed and carried on, but as soon as she handed him to me, he nestled against my chest and closed his eyes — except for the moment he looked up at me and licked my nose. *swoon*
The foster mom was into me; she said we seemed to mesh and I’d have to agree. Though, he could be a big pee-factory that never shuts up and she’s trying to unload him on me, so I’m wary. But, she seemed very genuine and I was happy she got a chance to see me with the dog to know I’m not some psychopath running an illegal chihuahua fighting ring in my parking space.
I never thought I’d want a male dog, first off… and secondly, I never thought I’d want a chihuahua. I’ve had my heart set on a doxie, or maybe a corgi, for a while now. But he just melted me, that dog, and now I’m seriously considering adopting him if he’s not gone. mikey says I should stop torturing myself and wait for the dog I *really* want, but now I don’t know what I really want.
*sigh* Damn that cuteness!
Joelle said around lunch time on August 29, 2008
I need to find a new place to work. It’s very difficult for me to get anything done here lately with all the noise. If it’s not the freaking parrots, it’s the owner of the parrots who likes to blare his bass in the parking lot despite my repeated requests not to (the same parking lot Tire Guy bangs his tube in). Every single time he says, “Oh, I forgot. Sorry, I thought no one was home.” And every time, I respond, “I’m always home.” I mean, crimony, dude! The bass rattles my wall and gives me a headache. Do I have to hang a sign outside alerting people that I’m home now?
I don’t want to be a jerk, you know? I realize people have a right to live and play their music and whatever. I also realize it’s during a work week when he thinks people are away from their homes. But some of us aren’t and I pay my rent and deserve peace like anyone else.
He uncovers his damn parrots at 6am in the morning and with it being Summer, everyone in the neighborhood has their windows open. So they squawk and carry on, especially on the weekends because he sings to them. He SINGS! You can hear him up there singing to the birds while his wife or girlfriend clanks the dishes around and cooks breakfast. One morning I yelled out the window “For god’s sake, shut up! This isn’t freaking Costa Rica!” but that didn’t seem to sway him. I can’t imagine why.
The other day, he was using a chainsaw to cut logs about 3 feet from my open bedroom window. He’s up a bit higher on the hill, so looking out my window, I was eye-level with the saw. Dust, wood chips, all this crap was flying in the air and into my windows. What the hell!!? Are you planning on busting a crackling fire any time soon? I’m not. Save it for Winter, dude!
Every time I go ask him to turn down his radio, he’s nice about it and he always says good morning, so I don’t want to be a complete bitch, but this is getting ridiculous. I’ve got to get some work done! I’ve got to! And all that’s happening is he’s making me underline things a lot.
*bangs head*
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