If I believed in curses, I would say my car is cursed.
My car was in great condition. Yes, there were a few minor issues with it, but overall the maintenence expenses for it were minimal. Then, in December, I purchased the car from my parents and the following things happened:
1) Chip in my windshield - $40
2) Computer diagnostic and "Check Engine" light repair - $60
3) New tires & alignment - $357
4) Water pump, timing belt, gaskets, temperature gauge & labor to fix oil leak & install parts - $652
5) Consultation & oil change to combat leakage - $38
Now you will probably notice that this adds up to more than $1000. Keep that in mind while I list the other things that I have not yet paid for, or committed to paying for:
6) New headlight bulb
7) Tune-up
8) Bulb replacement in console
9) Repair of weird interior light problem
10) Fuel gauge repair
I'll be getting the headlight bulb, but the others will have to wait until a few more paychecks roll in. In fact, some of them might not get fixed at all because they aren't worth the expense. But why the hell is my car suddenly falling apart right after I buy it? I keep a log of maintenence, I take it in when it is required, and I don't crash it into stuff. And yet it seems to be slowly falling apart.
This is so not fair.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Sunday, June 25, 2006
friends don't aggravate friend's allergies on purpose
ok. once upon a time when i was 18, my allergies finally showed up, thanks to the hayman fire out here in colorado. since then, i have been having progressively worse problems with smoke. and not just cigarette smoke, but all kinds. grill fires (which my dad frequently has), woodburning fires, even burning oil in smoke machines and the little aromatherapy thingies. whatever. i started on a regimen of two allergy medications, so that when i had to put out a grill fire, i could without coughing up a lung and my sinuses sealing themselves tighter than gladware. no problem.
well, my last month abroad, after moderate suffering with every european out there smoking, my "friend" came out to visit me. needles to say, we were sleeping in the same room the whole time, mostly my dorm room. said friend has a nicotine addiction, which i made absolutely clear COULD NOT, under any circumstance, be indulged anywhere near me, or my room, and she was not allowed to smell like it, because the smell makes me want to hurl.
unfortunately, smoking also seems to be closely linked to lying. oh no, she said, i only smoke one every other day or so.
THEN HOW DO YOU EXPLAIN THE FOUR CIGARETTES YOU HAD EVERY FUCKING DAY WE WERE IN PARIS??? every day period, the stupid cow. she made the rest of that trip miserable, but unfortunately, that's going to be a chapter or six in my memoir. she also reasoned that since i take medication, i shouldn't havea problem with her smoking. she has also told me taht i don't actually have this allergy, and that i just don't like the smell.
anywho, i came back home and went to the doctor, because i had been sick the last week with a nasty cough, and it was still around. my doctor, who has been listening rather closely to my lungs for the past year or so, expressed that something had happened. she knew that europeans smoked, but asked if there had been anything in particular that could have caused a problem. 'why yes!' said i.
well. long story short. now it seems that instead of smoke-induced allergies, there's a strong probability that i have smoked-induced asthma, which she has been worried about for the past year, and that one month of stress and smoke finally pushed me over the edge. she's giving me 6 months, but if i still have a wheeze (which i do), i get to have an asthma test of some kind to just solidify what the doctor feels she knows.
excuse me for being pissed, but i was born healthy and with good, strong lungs, and now, thanks to careless "friend," i don't anymore. i know, i can't blame just her, but let's face it. no european spent a month solid blowing smoke in my face.
so if you smoke, and one of your friends says they're allergic, learn from this. we don't make it up for shits and giggles. thank god coloradois going smoke-free in public places july 1. at least some people in the government realize that killing oneself with cancer shouldn't mean killing others with it too.
well, my last month abroad, after moderate suffering with every european out there smoking, my "friend" came out to visit me. needles to say, we were sleeping in the same room the whole time, mostly my dorm room. said friend has a nicotine addiction, which i made absolutely clear COULD NOT, under any circumstance, be indulged anywhere near me, or my room, and she was not allowed to smell like it, because the smell makes me want to hurl.
unfortunately, smoking also seems to be closely linked to lying. oh no, she said, i only smoke one every other day or so.
THEN HOW DO YOU EXPLAIN THE FOUR CIGARETTES YOU HAD EVERY FUCKING DAY WE WERE IN PARIS??? every day period, the stupid cow. she made the rest of that trip miserable, but unfortunately, that's going to be a chapter or six in my memoir. she also reasoned that since i take medication, i shouldn't havea problem with her smoking. she has also told me taht i don't actually have this allergy, and that i just don't like the smell.
anywho, i came back home and went to the doctor, because i had been sick the last week with a nasty cough, and it was still around. my doctor, who has been listening rather closely to my lungs for the past year or so, expressed that something had happened. she knew that europeans smoked, but asked if there had been anything in particular that could have caused a problem. 'why yes!' said i.
well. long story short. now it seems that instead of smoke-induced allergies, there's a strong probability that i have smoked-induced asthma, which she has been worried about for the past year, and that one month of stress and smoke finally pushed me over the edge. she's giving me 6 months, but if i still have a wheeze (which i do), i get to have an asthma test of some kind to just solidify what the doctor feels she knows.
excuse me for being pissed, but i was born healthy and with good, strong lungs, and now, thanks to careless "friend," i don't anymore. i know, i can't blame just her, but let's face it. no european spent a month solid blowing smoke in my face.
so if you smoke, and one of your friends says they're allergic, learn from this. we don't make it up for shits and giggles. thank god coloradois going smoke-free in public places july 1. at least some people in the government realize that killing oneself with cancer shouldn't mean killing others with it too.
Saturday, June 24, 2006
Waste Your Time at PepsiSmash.com!!
1 in 3 wins, my ass. I just entered 14 illegible codes from Mountain Dew caps, and sacrificed my personal information to corporate America, and I didn't even get a single fucking ringtone.
I better win a fucking RAZR, PEBL, BLWJB, or whatever the fuck else they are giving away.
I better win a fucking RAZR, PEBL, BLWJB, or whatever the fuck else they are giving away.
Some Parents Suck At Life (Part 1)
I am a day camp counselor. For the past three weeks I have spent a considerable amount of time studying my campers and the people who raised them. Here are just a few of the things I have noticed about some of the parents that really piss me off.
The Schedule:
At the beginning of every session, we pass out a schedule that lists the activities we have planned for each day of the week, along with a rough estimate of what time each activity will occur. Most days we manage to stick pretty close to the schedule, but sometimes things happen that cause us to deviate slightly. Sometimes the weather is a factor, sometimes there are problems with the bus, or sometimes we were unable to obtain the materials needed for a given activity. Whenever this occurs, we always make do by substituting a different activity. The kids never seem to really notice when this happens, because most of them don't care what they do, as long as it isn't school.
The parents, on the other hand, have heart attacks when little Billy comes home and says that he ate popsicles that day instead of watermelon. Or that he played whiffle ball instead of Red Rover. Seriously, who gives a shit? Is little Billy's life forever altered because he didn't ingest those few chunks of watermelon? No. Now, I would understand if on the schedule it said "Nature Hike," but we ended up taking them to the adult bookstore instead, but there is no need to nitpick about stupid shit like whether Susie came home with a popsicle stick picture frame or a macaroni necklace. I honestly think that if Susie came home and said that at 11:00 a.m. the counselors took turns beating her with a stick, her parents would yell at us, because the schedule clearly states that the beating should have been at 10:30 a.m., and with tire irons.
Drop-Off & Pick-Up
These same parents who bitch about the schedule seem to have a major problem sticking to it. It clearly states that drop-off is at 8:00 a.m. The kids usually get to play in the park for a while before we board the bus for camp, so it isn't a big deal if the parents come around 8:05 a.m. or so instead. The counselors are supposed to arrive at the Rec Center at 7:30 a.m., which gives us time to discuss the day's activities and make sure we have everything we need. We aren't expected to head over to the park until about 7:50 a.m. or so. And yet, every day when I pull into the Rec, there are already parents waiting at the park. One kid even got there as early as 7:15 a.m. once. Then when we get over to the park, the parents bitch about us being late. WE are not late. YOU are way too fucking early. I'm sorry if you are that eager to unload your brat on us, but we aren't quite as excited about it as you are.
As if the early drop-off isn't bad enough, these same parents who force their children on us 30 minutes before they are supposed to can't seem to work that same magic in the afternoon. Pick-up is supposed to be no later than 3:00 p.m. And yet every day at 3:08 p.m., there is always at least one kid sitting there waiting. How great is that for a child's self-esteem?
"I love you, but not enough to pick you up on time so you don't feel like a loser."
Also, some kids start worrying that something terrible has happened to their mom or dad. Then the parent shows up and says something like "Sorry, I was too busy scratching my ass to look at the clock."
There are also the ones that are just too damn lazy to even get out of the car. Some probably wouldn't even stop the car if they didn't have to sign the sign-out sheet.
"Okay Billy, Mommy has to get to Yoga class! Come jump in the window! No...run faster...no, I can't slow down...that's it...okay jump...ouch, that looks like it hurt...oh well I can't turn around. Just spend the night here. That way I don't have to drop you back off in the morning."
Idiots.
Stay tuned for my next post: "Lunches: And you wonder why your kid is fat."
The Schedule:
At the beginning of every session, we pass out a schedule that lists the activities we have planned for each day of the week, along with a rough estimate of what time each activity will occur. Most days we manage to stick pretty close to the schedule, but sometimes things happen that cause us to deviate slightly. Sometimes the weather is a factor, sometimes there are problems with the bus, or sometimes we were unable to obtain the materials needed for a given activity. Whenever this occurs, we always make do by substituting a different activity. The kids never seem to really notice when this happens, because most of them don't care what they do, as long as it isn't school.
The parents, on the other hand, have heart attacks when little Billy comes home and says that he ate popsicles that day instead of watermelon. Or that he played whiffle ball instead of Red Rover. Seriously, who gives a shit? Is little Billy's life forever altered because he didn't ingest those few chunks of watermelon? No. Now, I would understand if on the schedule it said "Nature Hike," but we ended up taking them to the adult bookstore instead, but there is no need to nitpick about stupid shit like whether Susie came home with a popsicle stick picture frame or a macaroni necklace. I honestly think that if Susie came home and said that at 11:00 a.m. the counselors took turns beating her with a stick, her parents would yell at us, because the schedule clearly states that the beating should have been at 10:30 a.m., and with tire irons.
Drop-Off & Pick-Up
These same parents who bitch about the schedule seem to have a major problem sticking to it. It clearly states that drop-off is at 8:00 a.m. The kids usually get to play in the park for a while before we board the bus for camp, so it isn't a big deal if the parents come around 8:05 a.m. or so instead. The counselors are supposed to arrive at the Rec Center at 7:30 a.m., which gives us time to discuss the day's activities and make sure we have everything we need. We aren't expected to head over to the park until about 7:50 a.m. or so. And yet, every day when I pull into the Rec, there are already parents waiting at the park. One kid even got there as early as 7:15 a.m. once. Then when we get over to the park, the parents bitch about us being late. WE are not late. YOU are way too fucking early. I'm sorry if you are that eager to unload your brat on us, but we aren't quite as excited about it as you are.
As if the early drop-off isn't bad enough, these same parents who force their children on us 30 minutes before they are supposed to can't seem to work that same magic in the afternoon. Pick-up is supposed to be no later than 3:00 p.m. And yet every day at 3:08 p.m., there is always at least one kid sitting there waiting. How great is that for a child's self-esteem?
"I love you, but not enough to pick you up on time so you don't feel like a loser."
Also, some kids start worrying that something terrible has happened to their mom or dad. Then the parent shows up and says something like "Sorry, I was too busy scratching my ass to look at the clock."
There are also the ones that are just too damn lazy to even get out of the car. Some probably wouldn't even stop the car if they didn't have to sign the sign-out sheet.
"Okay Billy, Mommy has to get to Yoga class! Come jump in the window! No...run faster...no, I can't slow down...that's it...okay jump...ouch, that looks like it hurt...oh well I can't turn around. Just spend the night here. That way I don't have to drop you back off in the morning."
Idiots.
Stay tuned for my next post: "Lunches: And you wonder why your kid is fat."
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