Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Yellow Sprinkler

Sorry, it's been a while since I was last in touch. It's not you it's me, I just needed some space. Just kidding! I was on holidays for a few weeks on and off and now I'm back.  I was out on the piss the other day during that lovely weekly holiday known as the weekend (something near and dear to my heart).  And while I was knocking back a few cocktails I was greeted with the urgent need to visit the ladies to return some of the liquid that I had been consuming. I have the bladder of a small gerbil and tend to drink a lot so I have to wee about 8 million times a night. On this particular evening I walked into the bathroom and encountered the usual situation that us ladies face on a fairly regular basis... a queue. So while I was fiercely clenching my kegels I began to wonder what the hell it is that chicks do in there? I mean it's pretty straight forward for me personally, you get in, lock the door, dress up, knickers down, wee, wipe and get out.  I usually do this fairly quickly for a couple reasons number 1. It's not super fun hanging out in the bathroom and 2. My drink is usually outside with my friends and I would like to get back to both of them in equal measure. But really what goes on in there? Are the model types returning their dinners? Druggies finding a vein? Because I really don't think there are that many models and junkies hanging out in bar/club bathrooms in Perth but that is really all that I can come up with.  Surely adjusting your chicken fillets can not be that freaking time consuming and I'm pretty certain that most girls aren't pinching a loaf in the public toilet when they're having a night out on the town.  Maybe it takes a while to double check that your labia are tucked into your G banger so they aren't hanging out of your crotch length dress. Who knows?! It's one of the mysteries of the world that will never be solved. After delving into the mystique of the female species I am finally granted with one of life's great joys... a cubical opens up and I am next in line Yeeeeeoooooowwwww!!! So I rush in and lock the door and try to throw my purse onto that little metal hook-y thing that may or may not actually be there (I haven't looked because I'm trying to get my freaking clothes off) in which case my purse either swings around banging into the door or it lands on the floor in a puddle of god knows what.  By this time I have to wee so bad I'm doing the potty dance while trying to simultaneously shimmy my dress up and undies down which is no small feat while doing a jig in high heels in a two foot by two foot cubicle. Don't act like every single one of you has not done the potty dance multiple times throughout your lifespan. At this point I've manged to get the undergarments down and bottom on the seat, oooooohhhhh the sweet sweet release ahhhhhhh. Hallelujah! I didn't have to pee my pants. Yesssss!!!  Now at this stage you might not even realize what is about to take place, you can't feel anything out of the ordinary. Your thighs have made a vacuum seal with the toilet seat and you are locked in. It's not until you get up that you feel it. And you instantly know what it is. Your thighs are wet. Not from you. Oh no, not from you. You have sat in someone else's wee. EEEWWWWWW GROSS. So gross. You are now the princess of grossness. Part of you wants to throw up a little bit but then it will just smell like vomit in there which will just make everything grosser which you didn't even think was possible. So you grab giant wad's of toilet paper and try your best to scrub someone else's urine off the back of your legs.

While you are attempting to remove all traces of pee and maybe a few layers of skin so you can feel somewhat clean again you start thinkin... god damn mo fo's!!! Who doesn't wipe their pee off the seat?! I mean OK some people don't want to sit down, fair enough, but if you are going to pull the hover craft move feel free to lift up the seat and pee all over the rim.  Guys manage to do it all the freaking time so us women folk should be able to master the skill. I mean seriously!!! If you piss on the seat wipe it up! I am lazy, I have been wearing heels all night long and I'd like to take that 30 seconds to sit down, relieve myself and take a load off for half a bloody minute.  Meanwhile you've got some women that seem to think of themselves as their own little personal yellow sprinkler system for the toilet cubicle. I mean it's a pretty big hole to aim into, I'm not quite sure how these chicks are missing the bowl!!! It's like they are trying to cover the toilet seat in a ring of wee.  And then they think...I should leave this for some nice lady who is dying for a wee, so she busts in a pops a squat and ends up with wet thighs. Yeah that would be nice. That would be a really super nice thing to do. Sounds freaking absurd doesn't it!!! That is why I cannot figure out what the hell these girls are thinking! What are you thinking you crazy pee bandits? Huh?! What the bloody hell is wrong with you, you bunch of god damn weirdos!!! I mean you must be at least 18 to get into these places because they serve alcohol so you have have roughly 15 or 16 years of practice peeing, taking into account the first few years of diapers, and I am almost 100% positive that you do not piss all over your own toilet at home. So what exactly happens when you come into a public restroom after having a few drinks that makes you completely lose control of your vagina? It's like it becomes detachable and starts dancing around on the toilet seat like a showgirl from Vegas all the while spraying like the fountains at the Bellagio. WTF?!

I'm asking you ladies, pleading with you, please figure out how to sit down and wee like a normal person or lift up the lid like a dude and pee all over the rim if you must but if you could kindly refraining from spraying on and around the toilet like your own personal fire prevention system that would be great. 

Sunday, August 12, 2012

Umm Give Me A Hint? Starts With a ....

I am horrible at remembering peoples names. There I said it out loud in a public forum so everyone knows. I would also like to take this time to apologise to all the people who's names I have forgotten, sometimes multiple times. I'm sorry. I am a tosser. It's not you, it's me.  No really, it really is me. If you are a friend or acquaintance of mine it's quite possible that the first 2 to 8 to 12 times I met you I probably didn't actually know what your name was. I can usually get by because I often refer to people as mamacita, honey, babe or hey you. I know that this affliction is something that many people suffer from. It does make me feel a little bit better knowing that I am not the only clueless asshole out there. But only a little. I am not sure what it is exactly, that makes remembering names so hard.  People tell you to try mnemonic devices to remember peoples names but I find that difficult to do when I'm first meeting someone. I'm spending the bulk of my time trying to be bloody charming and witty and then I am supposed to come up with a clever little rhyme or song to remember their name? Where do people find the time?! I would most likely have some idiotic look on my face whilst thinking hard, attempting to come up with some catchy memory trick and they would probably think I'm either constipated or in pain. I don't see that one working out for me. Then the other trick is to say the persons name aloud once and then ask them what their last name is then saying both names aloud again. For some reason I struggle with this one and repeat the name one too many times and end up sounding like rain man.  They walk away asking the host if I'm mentally challenged. Another big fail for me in the name game! So usually what inevitably ends up happening is that I meet these people time and time again  and I continue to not recall what the hell they are called. I ask friends at the party what so and so's name is and I might remember it for one whole party, but then it magically walks out of my vacuous brain and disappears like a thief in the night. Sometimes I don't even remember it for the whole party and by the end of the night I'm asking my partner... What was the name of that blond girl? Ya know, the pretty one? She's somebodies cousin? Or sister? Somebodies wife? Or um somebodies something? She works at that place? Ummm? Nope, nothing. I've got no freaking idea.

The worst part about this non memorable condition is that not only do you look like a jackass for not remembering it can also make the people who shall unintentionally remain nameless feel like tiny unimportant little people. Lets face it some of them really are little unimportant people but nobody likes that thrown in their faces now do they! It's like a big old slap upside the head to them saying... oops sorry you really weren't special enough for my Swiss cheese like brain to have filed away your name in where ever the hell it stores the things I actually remember. Which is not even the case most of the time! Well at least half of the time. Err some of the time. Some of the people whose names carelessly wander into one ear and out of the other are often very lovely, entertaining, interesting people whose company I thoroughly enjoyed. I just have some kind of idiot mental health problem that doesn't allow me to remember who they are!

I even forgot my own family members name once. An exceptionally brilliant moment on my part!  I was talking to my cousin, who is a wonderful man and a loving husband & father.  I was saying goodbye on Skype and told him to tell his wife I said hello and I went to say "please give _____  (insert his daughters name here) kisses from me" and I completely forgot her name. JACKASS!! Who forgets a family members name!! Well I will tell you who... this asshole, me. Total blank!! I just sat there on the video link going um, ah, mmm, uhhhh until my mom threw me a freaking bone and said her name for me. Way to go me! Jerk face! Probably wont be getting a Christmas card from them this year huh.  Now I know what you are thinking... were you kicked in the head as a child? Or perhaps had some kind drowning accident that limited blood flow to the brain? And the sad part is that, no I didn't.  I have no reason that the intelligence sack rolling around inside my cranium doesn't seem to function in a normal way.  Apparently my skull has some very very tiny holes where my brain juice seeps out, along with all the names I've ever heard. Maybe it's crowded in there. Maybe my other spazzy brain cells are having a dance party in there and the names, well they want to get out in the world and be amongst it. And it's not even just the names that I struggle with, it's also the faces. There has been many an occasion where I swear to god I have never met these people before but low and behold... apparently I have! Maybe it's because I'm often drinking at parties when one is introduced to people and maybe it's my body's way of saying I should lay off the booze! On the other hand I have also recognised people that I have never ever met before which can be equally awkward. Especially when you hug those people. 

Sunday, July 29, 2012

Get off of me!!

You know when you are in a queue, it could be at the grocery store, the ATM, the bathroom, the bar or waiting to get on the train, any type of situation where your personal space is getting raped by people you don't know. What is it about queueing up that is a general invitation for strangers to get so close to you that you feel like you should be asking for their medical history or at least personal references.  I mean if you were not in a queue it would be totally creepy and gross for anyone that you are not intimate with to be anywhere near that close to you. Is it just me? Is it because I'm highly irritable and not keen on people in general? Or am I a weirdo magnet? I was standing up on the train one day with my back up against the wall of the train car and a couple were standing so close to me that I could smell what they had for lunch. If they were any closer to me they would have been in my womb and I would have had to have them kick me so I would know when to give birth to them so they could get off at their stop.  I understand that people need to be relatively close to you at times but there is no need for that level of closeness! Part of me thinks that perhaps it would be a good idea to wear one of the those blow up inner tube floaties so then at least I would have a physical barrier that might make a person pause and think... mmm curious, maybe I should just take a moment and back the fuck up in case I bump into that ladies inner tube because that would be weird and uncomfortable, for both of us. There we go, one solution right off the bat! Although that would probably make a bit of scene and it would probably be difficult getting through doorways, hallways, small spaces etc. And what about when you are at the grocery store in the express line and everyone kind of queues up behind the sign saying 15 items or less. Once you get to an actual register I really feel like nobody should be crawling up your backside, they should be waiting by the sign like everybody else. But yet they still do it! I turn around several times to try and attempt to show the person that it makes me uncomfortable but they don't seem to pick my subtle I hate you glare, so I ask them if they want to punch in my pin number on the key pad since they seem to want to be involved in my transaction. Sometimes when a random person I don't know is attempting to jump on my back and ride me like a horse, I feel like bending over from the waist, sticking my bum out and singing "I like big butts and I can not lie! You other brothers can't deny, when a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist and that round thing in your face you get sprung! Wanna pull up tough, cuz you noticed that butt was stuffed!" really really loudly while shaking my ass around.  I bet they would back the hell up straight away! I probably couldn't go back to that grocery store though so it might be a problematic solution. 

The worst queue is probably the one at the ATM. I mean I am a chick and I am getting out money so maybe you don't want to stand so close to me that I can feel you breathing on the back of my neck and I'm pretty sure that you just memorised my pin number as I entered it. In my head I am thinking shit, you are a crazy robbing psycho killer and now you are going to try and jump me on my way to the train station and clean me out for all I'm all worth and then tie me to the train tracks. In this instance it would be a bad decision on your part mister robber as I have approximately $12 dollars left in my account and you can't even get that outta the machine because its less than $20 bucks so the joke is on you buddy!! But this whole scenario going on in my head has stemmed from you being all up in my business at the ATM. Just back up people!! I've included a handy diagram to give you a basic understanding of personal space.

OK so the red space is listed as Intimate Space.  Now for me personally I would take that as... "unless we are sharing a bed each night you need to get the hell away from me" space.  Moving on to the orange space which is listed as Personal Space.  This would mean friends and family, people that I willingly hug and kiss, not crazy ass mo fo's who are in training to be my shadow.  Now there is the green space listed as Social Space, as in people I know not creepy strangers that I think just smelled my hair ewwwww! And finally dun dun na naaaa we have Public Space in greeny blue. This area should be where all you freaking weirdos should be standing!! Wayyyyyyyy far away from me, not creeping me out!! So let this be a lesson to all you close talkers and personal space invaders.  The next time your in a queue and your attempting to be the hunch on someones back, just take a deep breath and a few steps back before they turn around and spray you in the face with mace.

Monday, July 23, 2012

I did not pay $18 for this shit!!

I like going to the movies. I like the whole thing of having a night out and getting choc bombs and popcorn, I like the previews, I enjoy the whole process. Well maybe not the part when you are running to the bathroom in the middle of the movie because you have eaten half a bucket of salty movie popcorn (they only come in large, mega huge and ginormous feed a small village size) which leads to drinking an entire litre of water. The thing that drives me absolutely bonkers is when people are talking during the movie, or even the previews because hey they are kind of like little mini movies, and really I didn't pay almost twenty bucks to hear some assholes converse about how their bloody day was.  If you desperately need to chat with your partner or your mate maybe you should meet before hand so you can get it all out of your system. Or if you don't have time to meet up beforehand you can always save up your thrilling news until after the movie.  Just think of the shivers of anticipation you will feel knowing how exciting it's going to be to discuss your mundane life after the movie! I mean what, have these people not seen each other for 5 years and they are choosing to meet at the movies to reminisce? I was at the movies the other day and these two women come in late. The movie has already started and they proceed to sit down and shoot the shit. Now by this stage I'm turning around and giving them the stink eye but that doesn't seem to deter them in the least. So I'm thinking that maybe its too dark for them to see the fierce hatred shooting out of my eyes and they can't tell that I want to stab them in the mouth with a javelin.

I wait for another minute and the blabbering continues and continues until I decide that the time has come. I have to tell them to shut the hell up before I spontaneously combust with rage. But I think... OK deep breaths! No stabbing. You can do this and not be violent. Try to be nice! Think nice, polite thoughts. You can do it! So I turned around, for the tenth time in 5 minutes, and tried to decrease the DEF CON level 5 death ray shooting out of my eyeballs and said "Could you please be quiet?" and they said "yes, sorry" and no stabbing had to take place! It was amazing! They were even quiet for the rest of the movie which was a freaking miracle and a half.  Now I feel like I will be able to take on any and all movie talkers. I might become a movie talker vigilante taking justice into my own hands and silencing talkers everywhere, well at least in Fremantle where I go to the movies. I will take on the blatant loud talkers, that have entire conversations that have absolutely nothing to do with the movie. I will also strike down people that are attempting to whisper but that don't actually know the key steps to whispering. I will go through a step by step process for whispering just to lay it all out on the table for those who can't seem to get the hang of it. I know what you are thinkin... who the hell can't whisper? We are not talking complex problem solving thought processes here! Yet through my movie going experiences I have found that there are many people who suffer from unable to whisper-itis. You may recognise them from these telling symptoms, 1. Using either loud or normal volume voices while attempting to whisper. 2. Trying to whisper without actually leaning in toward the whisperee. 3. The whisperer may seem unaware they are in a movie theatre. 4.They might wonder why it's so dark and why the TV is so big.  If you or someone you know have been experiencing these symptoms I can confirm that you suffer from unable to whisper-itis.  Now what you need to do is A. Be aware that when you buy your ticket to get into the movie you are no longer in your house, there are lots of other people in the theatre with you and they don't wanna hear you! B. When attempting to whisper you need to actually lower for your voice in order for this technique to be effective.

C. Lean in toward the person you are whispering to and point your quiet little mouth in the direction of their ear.  D. Keep it short and sweet and to the point. This is not the time to discuss your dissertation on skinny jeans and why they make grown men turn into pre-pubescent boys, save those burning questions for after the movie. If you can stick with this easy program you too will be able to master whispering.  If you can't master whispering please just shut the hell up for the entire movie so I don't have to come over and stab you in the eye with the pointy end of my ice cream cone.

Monday, July 09, 2012

Pro Ninja Yoga

I went to Yoga the other day.  It was first time in a long time. I googled beginner Yoga classes in Freo and checked out times, locations and prices. I picked a beginner class only 5 minutes from home at a somewhat reasonable time. By reasonable I mean not in the morning. It's hard enough getting up early as it is and the thought of waking up an hour and a half earlier to go get bendy with a bunch of people I don't know doesn't sound super awesome to me.  I still have to haul ass from the train station after work, strip down, put on yoga friendly clothes and get something food like down my neck so that I didn't try to either A. Eat the teacher or B. Yell at her due to my "hanger" issues.  Just for anyone that doesn't know "hanger" (it's pronounced like Anger with an H at the front) is when you get angry because you are hungry. It can affect any number of people at any time, your wife, your brother, your mom or dad. No one is safe from the affects of hanger as it can cause you to lash out at anyone within eyesight or earshot. I often suffer from hanger so I find that eating at regular intervals helps stop the insanity.  Anyway I digress! So I've come home, gotten some food in my belly and I've yoga-fied my clothes and I head to my first beginner class. I suppose I should have noticed straight away when I came in that these people were a different kind of beginner. Everyone had already begun stretching and bending and there was one guy that was in a sort of split and I thought that maybe he had been castrated because I had no idea where his junk was, it didn't seem physically possible for it to fit in the non existent space between him and the yoga mat. This was all before the class had even started!

So I did the few normal person style stretches I know to prepare myself to become limber. That is when class began and it began with chanting. I'm gonna be honest chanting freaks me out a little bit but I was trying to keep an open mind so I stood there while the weirdos chanted. Then the vigorous stretching began in the form of this praying hands to jump up, squat thrust, upward dog, downward dog fast paced sequence all called out in a language that I am not familiar with. Now the teacher is walking around the room and helping the "beginners" and I'm using this term loosely, with their posture. There was no one for me to follow except the other people in the class who all seemed to be going at their own super fast pace, so I'm staring at my neighbours like I'm cheating on a test. I'm trying to follow these pro ninja yoga "beginners" and let's just say I'm not having the best luck and I feel like a bit of a tool and I am pretty sure that I look like a bit of a tool as well! Now I'm not going to India to enrol in Yoga teacher school any time soon but I could always follow along in other classes that I've taken before. The main down side to this class is that there is no freaking teacher to follow which is why I'm finding it slightly problematic!

This class was like a super advanced, everyone has memorised an entire hour and a half long sequence and apparently speaks some Hindu class (which is the norm for Pro Ninjas, but I find quite amazing and rather scary). Had they advertised the class as Pro Ninja Beginner Yoga I probably would have started in another class with other non super human beginners that are also not currently able to bend over and touch their toes. Let alone turn themselves into a pretzel where their head is almost touching their bum and they are holding their body in the air in this pretzel form with only their hands touching the ground.  I am pretty sure that only Jesus should be able to do that because it's almost like levitating which is pretty much magic.  Seriously, who are these people and in what universe are they considered beginners? I'm obviously in the Navy Seals / SAS beginner class. I'm starting to wonder if perhaps they have all grown up in India with master yogi's as parents and that is why they are able to levitate at such a relatively young age?  I cheat my way through class by copying my neighbours when I can keep up with them. I probably should have found an injured person who was going at a slower rehabilitative pace but I didn't realise that I would need to do that until after the chanting. We arrive at my favourite part of the class which is called "mediation" but loosely translates into lie down, sleepy, relaxy time. Now, I am totally awesome at this part. I'm so relaxed that I have fallen asleep and woken myself up with my own snoring. Sweet. At the end of class I stay late to ask the teacher if this is really the right class for me, seeing as how these people may have all previously worked for the circus as contortionists, and she said "oh don't worry about the chanting". Now, I'm not at all concerned about the chanting. It freaks me out a little bit and I do not plan on participating anytime soon other than the odd Ohm Shanti every now and again but I'm really more concerned with making my head touch my knees while my entire body weight is resting only on the palms of my hands but um yeah thanks lady I won't worry about the chanting!!!

Monday, July 02, 2012

Sunday Drivers

I usually ride my bike and take the train, those are my two main modes of transportation. My third mode of transportation is driving and while I do like driving, I only really enjoy it when I am not stuck behind idiots! I have come to find that Driving Idiot Free or D.I.F. times are few and far between in Perth. There are a few basic rules of the road that people either seem to A. Not know or B. Not care. Silly little things like merging or driving the speed limit. Now these would be basic issues that most license holding people would know about but in Perth I'm not exactly sure what the process is to obtain a license. I think that maybe you just queue up and pay the department of transportation. Then they just hand them out all willy nilly. I'm pretty sure that there isn't even a test and you probably don't even actually have to get into a car. The thing that makes me the most irate and that happens every single freaking time I get into the car is people who can not seem to manage to go the speed limit. I am regularly amazed that people travel at 5, 10 or 15 K's under the speed limit. The only other place I've seen this crazy phenomenon is back in America in Pennsylvannia but they were Amish people and driving a horse and buggy. Even if I am not in a hurry I want to get where I am going!! Do these people really not have anything better to do than cruise around doing 50 K's in a 60 zone? Who the hell really wants to spend more time than needed in the car? I mean maybe hoons and petrol heads but they have unnatural love affairs with their cars in a similar way that normal people have love affairs with other people. But I want to know why!! I need to know why!! Why can you not just drive the god damn speed limit? Is it asking too much?! Are you really not looking at the speedometer for the entire journey? Is it a pro active safety thing? Or are you really just mentally retarded and not quite sure what all those signs with the numbers mean on the side of the roads? I've included a photo of the speed limit sign just so we can all familiarize ourselves with what they look like. Now when you see a sign like this what you should be doing is making sure the little numbers on your speedometer are, at the very least, the same as the numbers on the sign. I personally like to go 5 K's over the speed limit but that is just me. So what have we learned? The number in the red circle needs to match the number on your speedo. Well done! Now lets try to remember this little lesson forever until you die or can no longer drive a car, what ever comes first.I would be happy with either.  

When I'm driving behind someone who is going under the speed limit I find that screaming curse words at the top of my lungs helps me deal with the rage that wells up inside me. I also find that that holding my fingers up repeatedly showing the numbers 6 then 0 (if I'm in a 60 zone) helps by making the driver ahead of me realize that the speed limit is actually 60 just in case they are unaware. In the end none of this actually seems to make them go any faster but all of the screaming helps ease my pain a little bit. One of the other little "traffic violations" that sends my blood pressure into the stratosphere is driving on the freeway. The reason this act makes me certifiable is because people in Perth do not seem to realize that the three different lanes have three different purposes.

The left lane is the slow lane which means all the people who love to drive under the speed limit should always be in the left lane. ALWAYS!!! END OF STORY!!! GET IN THE LEFT LANE BEFORE I HAVE TO FOLLOW YOU TO YOUR HOUSE AND STAB YOU IN THE EYEBALLS  AND BREAK YOUR FEET SO YOU CAN NO LONGER DRIVE!!! The middle lane is for people who like to do the speed limit (we like them!). The right lane is for people who like to go faster than the speed limit (we love them!). If you are in America please reverse the above order and all you slow bitches should be in the right lane. Now this system is tried and tested around the world and is very effective! But Perth-ites have not seemed to grasp this magical system. So when I'm driving I usually get stuck behind people who are all doing 90 in a 100 zone spread across all three lanes so that I am essentially blocked in and not able to pass on any side. When this happens I revert to my tried and tested stress relief technique of screaming swear words as loudly as possible.  Now where I come from if you are driving down the freeway and someone comes up behind you travelling at a faster speed than you, you move over into the other lane and let them go by. This is a another proven method that is incredibly effective because then everyone can go how ever fast or slow they like and it all flows nicely, unlike the Perth system where everyone in the three lanes are all going ten K's under the speed limit which makes going the speed limit or passing a distant dream. For the love of Christ people follow the god damn system!!! You obviously don't need to be in the fast lane when you are not even able to go the speed limit!! You all make me want to stab myself in the face over and over again so that I don't have to witness this level of stupidity. This is not some kind of complicated technical procedure just move your car into the bloody left lane you bunch of fucking idiots!!!! What is wrong with you? Were dropped on your head as a child or did your sibling try to drown you as a toddler and the lack of oxygen to your brain caused permanent damage which makes it difficult to do little things like drive in the freaking slow land if you are not physically able to drive the speed limit? The other thing that can be very tricky here in WA is mergeing. I know what your thinking... Well yes mergeing is extremely difficult!! Who am I kidding you are not thinking that because you are not a moron!!! Mergeing is easy! One car goes then another car goes. Simple yes? Think of it like a zipper and the cars are the teeth they start out as two separate lanes and the fit together one after another to make one lane. I hope this verbal illustration has helped enlighten the people who suffer from unable to merge-itis. Maybe they should make a video of a zipper and show it to the people queuing up for licenses. Also when you are mergeing and you feel the need to speed up to get in front of someone make sure you can at least do the speed limit after getting in front of them. Because when you speed up to be in front and then proceed to do ten K's under the speed limit you make me want to rear end you repeatedly. The final item on my D.I.F shitlist is the stop and turn. This manuver is when you are turning a corner and feel the need to put your foot on the break just about bringing the car to a stand still in order to turn the corner. This is not necessary and also makes me want to stab you and/or possibly rear end you. Millions of people manage to figure out how to turn corners ever day without actually having to stop the bloody car in order to do so. One day I have dreams of driving without screaming or getting stabby.  Maybe I should just start taking Valium instead.

Monday, June 25, 2012

Ferme La Bouche

I like taking the train. It's a nice cruisey way to get where you're going. You get on, sit down, take it easy, read a book, check your email, facebook or you can even take a nap if you want. You can drink and not have to worry about driving it's great!! There are very few things in life that are as easy as sitting on the train. Though there is one cardinal rule that should never be broken... you do not talk on your mobile phone whilst on the train. Or if you absolutely have to take the phone call, because you are going to die if you don't answer, the first words out of your mouth should be "Hi, I'm on the train". You should say this in such a way so that way the person the other end of the phone can feel your uncomfortable shame as everyone stares at you. Alternately if you choose to not answer the call please feel free to take the one nano second it takes to mute the ringer. Not that it's not super fun listening to your stupid bloody ring tone as it continues to ring over and over again as you stare at your phone.  Are you trying to decided whether you want to answer or do you really like looking at the name of the person as it pops up repeatedly? Is their photo a naked one and it's too tantalizing to reject the call? WHAT IS IT?? TELL ME!!!! WHY WON'T YOU MUTE THE PHONE IF YOUR NOT GOING TO PICK UP???!!! WHY???  This will have to go down as one of lifes eternal mysteries because I do not know the answer the this one.

Now on to the people who do take the call or better yet lets discuss the people who make calls from the train. While the train is a public space, you are not actually outside and even though you are sitting down and the train has wheels and moves in a forward motion you are not sitting by your self in your car. It's kind of like you are sharing a really big car with a whole bunch of people you don't know. And we don't want to hear about your day, week, month or year. We especially don't want to hear about this guy you met last night as you drank cheap champagne and although he is kind of cute you're not really into him because you don't really want a boyfriend right now. We also don't want to hear about your test results from god knows what or that you thought you might be pregnant from that hipster bartender you slept with that one time a month or so ago. We don't want to know about your cat or your car or your leaky sink or how bad your cramps are OK?!!! Basically we don't want to know anything about you. We just want you to shut the hell up because you are making our ears bleed and we all want to punch you in the face. Or is that just me? Ok it could just be me. To be honest I can't believe you are still on the phone because we left the station almost twenty minutes ago and I have been staring you down with my "I want to rip your hair out" laser look for the entire ride and really I'm surprised you have not melted into a puddle on the floor from the shear heat of my hatred.

I can not even begin to fathom who would use their daily commute as a time to call their Mum or their best mate to catch up for a half an hour. You can not tell me that you have so much going on in your super interesting mega busy life that you would not be able to find 20-30 minutes where, say... you would be in your own home and could call someone at your leisure.  The more you talk the more I just want to kick you in the mouth. I have my headphones turned up and I can still hear your shrill tone bleeding in through my lovely music. Who can even talk that much so early in the morning? It pains me just to wake up and keep my eyes open let alone speak to anyone for any type of extended period. I know what you are thinking... "why don't you just say something and ask her to get off the phone?" It's a good question and basically the answer is that I pride myself in being a non violent person and despite the fact that I regularly want to stab people in the face, I have some level of self control and manage to refrain from said stabbing. Plus I am afraid that if I ask her to get off the phone and she doesn't that I might have to kill her and that is just not how I want to start my day. They have horrible outfits in prison, I think you have to get up early every day and I'm pretty sure vodka is not allowed, all of which are a deal breaker for me!