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:: The Rants ::

What's in this section?
Ever just wanted to vent? Well here's were *I* get to do it.

You people post too much

Monday, October 11, 2004

You people make me look bad. You know who you are.

Yeah, YOU! The one who posts something on your blog EVERY DAY!! Can’t you take people like me into consideration? I’m busy! Got lots of stuff to do! And here you are posting away like you haven’t a care in the world!

So why am i going off on this? It’s because i just downloaded this program called PulpFiction Light - it basically reads the RSS feeds from peoples sites and automatically updates me so that i can see what the most recent news is. And that was when i discovered how freakin’ consistent you guys are! Stop making me look bad!

Ok. i’m done now.

On a completely random note, I saw a taping of Conan O’Brien of Friday with p.Diddy and Dave Navarro. Sweeeeeet! Here’s a link to a graduation speech Conan did at Harvard. Enjoy!

Suckered

Thursday, September 16, 2004

I’m not even sure that “suckered” is really a word, but that’s what happened to me by an uber friendly flaming gay (he was so sweet!) hairstylist named Joe. 

So one day, innocent little me is walking to the bursars office to get me some $$$ when all of sudden i’m accosted by this tall, incredibly well-groomed man inquiring about the health of my hair. He quickly suckered me into getting this “deal” where I could get a number of services for the wonderfully low price of $30. The services included: Image consultation, shampoo massage, conditioning treatment, precision haircut, skin analysis, mini European facial, lip wax, eyebrow wax, manicure or pedicure and mini neck and shoulder massage. Woot! I thought to myself before realizing that my doom would soon be upon me.

SO today i went to get my hair cut, shampoo thingy, consultation and conditioning treatment. You can only do up to 4 things at one time. The place is called La Dolce Vita, just in case you might want to know. It’s on 117 E. 60th St. In any case, Able, my hair stylist, suggested that i dye all of my hair back to black again and add a few subtle highlights. By now i’m wondering how much this is going to cost, but considering that i’ve NEVER had chemical treatments done in a salon, i figured it couldn’t be *that* expensive. T__T

Two hours and a full head dye, highlighting, a glaze and then conditioning treatment later, I was ready to have my hair cut. He did a simple job of just cutting off the ends and giving me blunt chin-length bangs. The whole time i’m trying to figure out how to tip him. Usually when the service is cheap you tip high, right? So i figured i’d give him $25 and hope that would be enough. I then went to the counter for my final bill and there, sitting so innocently on the counter, was the biggest bill i’ve ever seen. The receptionist began with, “So the color was $220...” and at this point i’m thinking, “i really hope she means two dollars and twenty cents, but i’m beginning to doubt that...” They gave me the glaze for free. Still, as Kevie would say, I almost soiled myself. The total bill: $400.

The question is, was it worth it? My answer is a giant resounding NO. Perhaps i’m just cheap. Perhaps i’m just poor. Maybe both. But how different cani possibly look? What would $400 worth of worthwhile change look like? I should look like Demi Moore or something at the end of this!! I had no choice. I had agreed to the treatments. I paid, smiled at my stylist, and left muttering under my breath for about 2 hours.

So to make myself feel better, I must think of this in the great scheme of things. I haven’t really paid for a haircut (except once last year for a perm) since 1998. So i guess $400 spread of 6 years isn’t so bad. I just wish it didn’t happen NOW that i made up for all those years of getting away without paying. So i pampered myself (unknowingly) today, BUT may it never happen again EVER. Amen.

If anyone want to use the card i got for the facial, waxing, etc., let me know cuz i’m NOT stepping foot in that place again.

Here are some before and after pics. At least it looks good. And my hair was pretty fried…

Tech Support should NOT be in India!

Friday, September 10, 2004

I have nothing against India; I just have issues with their tech support.

Actually, i don’t even think it’s tech support in India alone. Tech support in general is just plain sucky. You spend HOURS on the phone just waiting for someone to pick up. And then, when someone *does* actually pick up, you notice right away that they are either 1) incompetent or 2) snide about your ignorance. Either way is annoying - i mean, it’s just like Computer Guy on Saturday Night Live. Yeek!

Anyway, i tried to hook up my linksys wireless adapter WUSB11 v2.5. All my old roommates know the frustration that those little devices can stir up. By the end of the TWO HOUR long conversation with this one Indian woman, i was about ready to scream in frustration, and it wasn’t because of the device. It was purely her demeanor. She would repeat the same instruction twice, despite the fact that i had either confirmed that I had done the task or asked a question regarding it. I thought i was listening to a recording at first! Then she would make a request such as, “Open your browser window” and then leave me in silence for a minute and a half! I would say, “hello? Are you still there?” No response. I was about to kick puppies, i was so pissed.

THEN she transferred me after two hours and realizing that she didn’t know anything. I had to explain the whole thing again. AND he did the same annoying “I’m ignoring you” thing! So at the end of that, the man said, “try this” and then put me on hold. And then there was this odd clicking sound that could only mean one thing: he hung up on me. If my roommate hadn’t been asleep (it was about 1am or so), I would have seriously gone nuts.

I tried to call down. Couldn’t. I decided to call up Slim. He calmed me down and offered to try to help. Seriously, he got it working in 5 minutes. Slim = amazing.

So pooh on tech support! 

Feral Children...like pink?

Wednesday, August 11, 2004

Did you know that children, despite the fact that they have been raised by wolves, still enjoy pastels?

It came as quite a shock. The oldest girl out of 7 cousins DEMANDED that I placate her pastel fetish by giving her my pink belts. The exchange went something like this:

feral child: “Hey, you, gimme your pink belts. I love pink.”

me: “Um, no, I’m actually gonna take those with me...”

feral child: “You’re mean! I’m gonna look through all of your stuff and take what i want!”

me: “Isn’t it time for you to go home?”

Who teaches their fourteen-year old kid to do that? Wolves. Or maybe coyotes. It’s hard to say these days. Needless to say, she did not get the belts. In fact, even though i’m *not* taking them with me, i’m still *not* giving them to her. Rudeness will get you nowhere child…

Needless to say, this scares me spitless when it comes to having children of my own. I’ve never been too keen on the whole idea of kids to begin with. The one glimmer of hope is the youngest of the brood from across the street. Carrie is the sweetest kid ever - i don’t mean that she doesn’t act up. She’s still a kid, but she is just the right amount of adventurous, bold, shy, polite, and childish all at once.

Isn’t she cute?

So what is up with the Auto Zone?

Thursday, July 01, 2004

Auto Zone’s motto should be: “Women, don’t bother coming in here because we *know* you haven’t got a clue about cars!” Grrrrrrrrr.

Apparently, if you’re a woman and don’t know exactly EVERYTHING about the piece of equipment you are purchasing, the guy that works there will assume that you are a brain dead jelly fish when it comes to anything mechanical and proceed to patronize you with his uber simplified explanations. “This is a car. You put new things on it when they break.”

I mean, i know that i’m not the most knowledgeable person alive when it comes to cars, but come on! I can tell when i have the wrong size windshield wiper WHEN THEY OVERLAP EACH OTHER AND CAN’T MOVE! The guy, after giving me this scathing look of skepticism, actually had to come out and examine the car after i told him that he gave me the wrong size of wiper.

“See look,” i said. “They overlap.”

“Who told you that?”

“Um, i can just tell by looking at it. They won’t move like this.” I begin to flush.

Finally he gets me the right size, still treating my like i’m mentally handicapped.

Can’t stand patronizing car guys.