The other day I was dicking around on facebook and I wanted to see if my little sister had posted any new pictures of her and her new boyfriend (whom my brother has affectionately named Nick Dick due to the unfortunate fact that his parents named him Nicholas Richard). When I typed her name in, it brought up some grizzled old folk singer. So I got on my page and clicked on her name under siblings. It brought up a page telling me the page I was attempting to load no longer exists. The following transpired via text:
Me:Did you delete your facebook?
Her: No why?
Me: Well then did you block me? I can;t see your page. It says you do not exist. When I look at my friends in common with Peter, you aren't there anymore.
Me (after she hasn't answered): You're not listed as a friend I have in common with Hannah or Bo either.
Her: I didn't block you... I don't know why?
Me: That's so weird. It says your page doesn't exist! Haha I was going to write miss you and see you on Wed but nope!
Her: Sorry...idk what to tell you.
The following day I was working from my parents house because I had to drive Mom to the airport. My brother finally drags his ass out of bed at around 10:30 am and I ask him if he can see my sister's page. He looks at me strangely and says "Yeah" (but means duh). My mom asks me why I am asking him that so I show them what happens when I log in and try to look her up. Then I say I think she lied to me.
My mom proceeds to tell me that while we were texting my sister started cracking up and when my mom asked her what was so funny she told her I asked if she had blocked me. My mom asked her if she did and my sister just laughed.
Folks, my dipshit 15 year old sister, tried to block me thinking I wouldn't figure it out. I am the google and internet queen. If I don't know something, I'll find it out and she thinks that she could LIE to me and me not figure out?!?!?! What. The. Fuck.
You're probably wondering why she blocked me.
Her status one day: Nick :] :]
My comment on said status: Vomit.
# of likes to my comment: 4
# of responses to my comment on her status: 3
According to her, her friends are sick of me showing up in their newsfeed so she blocked me so it can't happen anymore. Homegirl, I comment on your page maybe 3 times a month. Vs. you and your silly crew liking every fucking thing (ie. so and so likes other people liking things, the color pink, when a guy winks at you and 75 other pages). I highly doubt my comment "vomit" appeared on any of their newsfeeds with shit like that plus picnik and random scams they click on because they aren't smart enough to notice they shouldn't be clicking on pages that take you outside of facebook and ask for a password despite being told that repeatedly.
So, your life is in shambles if your little sister blocks you because you embarrass her.
Showing posts with label Pet Peeves. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pet Peeves. Show all posts
Monday, August 30, 2010
Thursday, July 15, 2010
What The Fuck?
I’ve already told you about Naked Chic and discussed who works out at 5 am at Gold’s Gym Lawrenceville. Today, I bring you WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON IN THAT SHOWER STALL.
So, here’s the deal, I probably need to update the Who Works Out At Gold’s Gym so that I can include Locker Room Bitch but that will have to happen another day. Just know that She. Is. A. Bitch. End of discussion.
So we usually end up in the locker room around the same time and hit the showers at the same time. The set up at Gold’s Gym is individual shower stalls with floor to ceiling walls and a door leading out into the hall. So basically, if a door is open, no one is in it. If it’s closed…well, good luck figuring that out. I have actually stood outside a door with my ear pressed to it trying to determine if someone was in that shower or the one next to it. And yes, it got me weird looks.
Anyway, today I’m in the shower (pause while you pervs imagine it and the rest of you go ew get to the point). I’m just washing my hair, relaxing after a tough workout when suddenly I hear a noise coming from the stall next to me. Locker Room Bitch and I are the only ones in the locker room at this point so I know it’s her. It’s not really a bang but not really a tap either and it happens three to five consecutive times and then stops. Washing the suds out of my hair and it comes again. Using my favorite body scrub on my legs and I hear it again. By now, I’m kind of annoyed.
Look, I know a locker room isn’t exactly quiet. You got the TV blaring and some shit music that Gold’s Gym thinks makes people work out harder playing over the speakers. Add in someone blow drying their hair or a group class chattering away and it gets pretty loud in there. But the showers are off to the side and the individual rooms afford you some sense of privacy. You can hear the showers running but other than that you usually don’t hear the person in the stall next to you.
It’s one of my favorite things about the gym. I love to just stand there in the shower a few minutes in the morning and just stretch and relax and let the water work the tension out of my muscles. It’s pretty peaceful…until you hear the THUD THUD THUD THUD from the next stall. Not once, not twice but a total of 15 times while I was in the shower (for a total of 7 minutes tops). At one point I slammed my face wash down because I was annoyed my relaxation had been interrupted. I highly doubt that if she heard it, she gave a shit. I know it’s stupid but I just feel like you should have respect for others in the locker room- clean up after yourself, don’t hog the counterspace and keep your fucking noise to a reasonable level. I really don’t understand how anything you do in the shower* could make that kind of noise level at all. Was she shaving and trying to get the stubble off her razor? That’s what water is for people. Rinsing. Was she running low on shampoo and trying to get the last drops out? Time to invest in a new bottle. I know you make more money than I do so I know you can afford some new shit.
My question for you is WHAT THE FUCK WAS SHE DOING IN THERE?
*scratch that, sex in the shower (when done right) gets pretty damn noisy.
So, here’s the deal, I probably need to update the Who Works Out At Gold’s Gym so that I can include Locker Room Bitch but that will have to happen another day. Just know that She. Is. A. Bitch. End of discussion.
So we usually end up in the locker room around the same time and hit the showers at the same time. The set up at Gold’s Gym is individual shower stalls with floor to ceiling walls and a door leading out into the hall. So basically, if a door is open, no one is in it. If it’s closed…well, good luck figuring that out. I have actually stood outside a door with my ear pressed to it trying to determine if someone was in that shower or the one next to it. And yes, it got me weird looks.
Anyway, today I’m in the shower (pause while you pervs imagine it and the rest of you go ew get to the point). I’m just washing my hair, relaxing after a tough workout when suddenly I hear a noise coming from the stall next to me. Locker Room Bitch and I are the only ones in the locker room at this point so I know it’s her. It’s not really a bang but not really a tap either and it happens three to five consecutive times and then stops. Washing the suds out of my hair and it comes again. Using my favorite body scrub on my legs and I hear it again. By now, I’m kind of annoyed.
Look, I know a locker room isn’t exactly quiet. You got the TV blaring and some shit music that Gold’s Gym thinks makes people work out harder playing over the speakers. Add in someone blow drying their hair or a group class chattering away and it gets pretty loud in there. But the showers are off to the side and the individual rooms afford you some sense of privacy. You can hear the showers running but other than that you usually don’t hear the person in the stall next to you.
It’s one of my favorite things about the gym. I love to just stand there in the shower a few minutes in the morning and just stretch and relax and let the water work the tension out of my muscles. It’s pretty peaceful…until you hear the THUD THUD THUD THUD from the next stall. Not once, not twice but a total of 15 times while I was in the shower (for a total of 7 minutes tops). At one point I slammed my face wash down because I was annoyed my relaxation had been interrupted. I highly doubt that if she heard it, she gave a shit. I know it’s stupid but I just feel like you should have respect for others in the locker room- clean up after yourself, don’t hog the counterspace and keep your fucking noise to a reasonable level. I really don’t understand how anything you do in the shower* could make that kind of noise level at all. Was she shaving and trying to get the stubble off her razor? That’s what water is for people. Rinsing. Was she running low on shampoo and trying to get the last drops out? Time to invest in a new bottle. I know you make more money than I do so I know you can afford some new shit.
My question for you is WHAT THE FUCK WAS SHE DOING IN THERE?
*scratch that, sex in the shower (when done right) gets pretty damn noisy.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Wig Out Wednesday
What is so fucking difficult about getting to the point of a conversation? Why do people struggle to say exactly what they mean? And pardon me South, bless your hearts, but you seem to be the absolute worst about spitting it the fuck out. In the wise, snarky advice of Barbie:
It's not like most of you have valid excuses. For example, being autistic would grant you leniency because, hello?!?!?! They have problems communicating what is in their head to the world around them. Or being a fucking vegetable because you absolutely cannot talk.
Here is an actual conversation I had with my step father this past weekend. As if I don't want to bash his brains in enough as it is, he made me want to throw my phone out of the fucking plane.
Step Father: Hello.
Me: Hey, it's Berryfine. I wanted to let you guys know the plane just landed and I made it home.
Step Father: How was the flight?
Me: Faster than I expected. I'm here an hour early. Is Mom around?
Step Father: No, she's in bed.
Me: Is she feeling okay?
Step Father: Just wiped out with everything going on.
Me: What is going on?
Step Father: You know, just everything that's happening right now.
Me: Apparently, I'm not following you. What is going on?
Step Father: With your grandmother and then your grandfather.
Me: Oh, I thought maybe something else had happened.
The rest of the conversation is just irrelevant (as is most interaction with him) but it drives home my point. Clearly, I didn't know what the fuck he was talking about.
Background: my grandmother has lung cancer and her prognosis is very bad. Add dementia to that and she's really not doing well. The day I flew home, my aunt informed me that the night before my grandfather had a seizure. Since I had been out of contact with my mother for over 24 hours and had left my grandparents 5 hours prior, I was unsure if there had been a new development. Would it have been so fucking difficult to say, "You mother is tired after spending the day worrying about your grandparents. Especially following your grandfather's seizure." Concise, clear and doesn't waste my fucking time.
I guess I am just struggling to understand why when you have a question or comment to share with someone, people seem to have so much trouble doing it. It's like I need to send them to journalism school or something. Tell me pertinent facts- who, what, when, where, how- when valid. Don't add stupid shit I don't care about. Don't leave out the most important things and then sound put out because I don't understand. The best part is, my little sister does the same damn thing but she is the one who gets most annoyed with my step father when he does it. This isn't a one time thing either, he talks in CIRCLES 90% of the time. He very rarely answers the actual question you asked. Then gets pissed when you decide you are done with the conversation because it's going nowhere.
* Lest you think this is a family issue, I can state with certainty that one of my coworkers is a fucking idiot do to her inability to answer a direct question. What makes that worse? She went to Cornell.
**President Obama does this a lot too. Supposedly he's a great speaker (maybe it's his conviction in his tone) but half the time I stop listening to him because he didn't answer the actual question.
*** This is especially annoying in phone messages. If you don't tell me in the first 10 seconds, I delete it and don't call you back. That should answer a lot of my friends questions on why I never get back to them.
USE YOUR WORDS.
It's not like most of you have valid excuses. For example, being autistic would grant you leniency because, hello?!?!?! They have problems communicating what is in their head to the world around them. Or being a fucking vegetable because you absolutely cannot talk.
Here is an actual conversation I had with my step father this past weekend. As if I don't want to bash his brains in enough as it is, he made me want to throw my phone out of the fucking plane.
Step Father: Hello.
Me: Hey, it's Berryfine. I wanted to let you guys know the plane just landed and I made it home.
Step Father: How was the flight?
Me: Faster than I expected. I'm here an hour early. Is Mom around?
Step Father: No, she's in bed.
Me: Is she feeling okay?
Step Father: Just wiped out with everything going on.
Me: What is going on?
Step Father: You know, just everything that's happening right now.
Me: Apparently, I'm not following you. What is going on?
Step Father: With your grandmother and then your grandfather.
Me: Oh, I thought maybe something else had happened.
The rest of the conversation is just irrelevant (as is most interaction with him) but it drives home my point. Clearly, I didn't know what the fuck he was talking about.
- Why did I have to ask more than once?
- And why did he think his answer cleared anything up?
Background: my grandmother has lung cancer and her prognosis is very bad. Add dementia to that and she's really not doing well. The day I flew home, my aunt informed me that the night before my grandfather had a seizure. Since I had been out of contact with my mother for over 24 hours and had left my grandparents 5 hours prior, I was unsure if there had been a new development. Would it have been so fucking difficult to say, "You mother is tired after spending the day worrying about your grandparents. Especially following your grandfather's seizure." Concise, clear and doesn't waste my fucking time.
I guess I am just struggling to understand why when you have a question or comment to share with someone, people seem to have so much trouble doing it. It's like I need to send them to journalism school or something. Tell me pertinent facts- who, what, when, where, how- when valid. Don't add stupid shit I don't care about. Don't leave out the most important things and then sound put out because I don't understand. The best part is, my little sister does the same damn thing but she is the one who gets most annoyed with my step father when he does it. This isn't a one time thing either, he talks in CIRCLES 90% of the time. He very rarely answers the actual question you asked. Then gets pissed when you decide you are done with the conversation because it's going nowhere.
What do you think? Do you interact with people who can't just get their point across? Or are you the one people have trouble following? I'd love to hear some justifications for belaboring a point or failing to address an actual question.
* Lest you think this is a family issue, I can state with certainty that one of my coworkers is a fucking idiot do to her inability to answer a direct question. What makes that worse? She went to Cornell.
**President Obama does this a lot too. Supposedly he's a great speaker (maybe it's his conviction in his tone) but half the time I stop listening to him because he didn't answer the actual question.
*** This is especially annoying in phone messages. If you don't tell me in the first 10 seconds, I delete it and don't call you back. That should answer a lot of my friends questions on why I never get back to them.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Versatility. I've got that in spades. In fact, I have so much versatility, I can't even figure out who I am. Which supposedly is a common afflicition in my generation and at 26 years old but I'm not going to lie, I feel like a loner in that respect. Anyway, Barbie of Barbie Runs graced me with this sweet Versatile Blogger Award that I've been watching the rest of you get. Finally, my turn! Whoo! Unfortunately, that means you've all gotten it by now so I am not sure who I can give it to. Way to make me feel like the last kid picked for the kickball team guys.
Apparently, you are supposed to learn seven random facts about me:
1. Pet Peeve #1: Abbrevs. Stupid. I absolutely hate people who totes speak in abbrevs. Especially people I know for a fact went to college. It's like basically you are just too lazy to speak in a grammatically correct and socially acceptable fashion. Abbrevs have lit become their own lang. So much so, that sometimes my friends use them and I haven't a clue what they are talking about. And seeing them spelled is hysterical. Ush does not equal usually people. Whatevs.
2. I'm from the Jersey Shore. I am not anything like those assholes you people watch on your reality television shows. Or the ones that appeared in The Sopranos. Or any other crap movie. I am from the same area as Bruce and Bon Jovi and I'm proud of it. But if I get asked some stupid question about where I am from or you make a smart ass comment to me I will get riled up. In fact, let me take care of it for you: I'm from Exit 98 Shore Points and yes I know the difference between a jersey girl and trash is that trash gets picked up. Yes, I have the Jersey Shore attitude. Do not mess with me.
3. I'm the oldest of three children. I'm the most competitive of the three in EVERYTHING I do. My brother(23) is the smartest of the three of us (though he's taking his time getting through undergrad). And my sister (14) has the beauty and talent. She's a competitive swimmer for Summit Swimming. Several colleges track her times and chat her up at meets. And she is the nicest, sweetest one of the three of us. I couldn't be prouder of her if she were my own kid. I really adore both of them and call them constantly to harrass them and hang out with them as much as I can. When I decided to move back to the ATL, they were my main reason.
4. Speaking of family, I have a large one. I wish I saw them more. Both sides of my family are devout Irish Carholics (my great uncle was a monsignor in the church). My mom has 10 brothers and sisters (who are all named Mary) and my dad has 6. I have like 30 cousins or something like that. My oldest cousin is 5 years older than me and my youngest cousin is 25 years younger than me. Which I think is pretty cool. Especially since the oldest cousin is expecting his first child! Most of them live in NJ but some of them live in California, Virginia, Pennsylvania, New Mexico and North Carolina. And don't even get me started on second and third cousins- cause I know most of them, too.
5. I went to college at UGA and love Athens (I'm pretty sure I've mentioned this before). If I won the lottery, I would buy a house there. It's such a great town with a lot going for it. I graduated with a degree in Journalism and a second degree in Literature. I almost didn't get the second degree because I wrote a paper detailing why I shouldn't get the degree. I waited over a month for my degree to arrive in the mail and scared the crap out of my mom when I breathed a sigh of relief. I also am the only one who got an A in my capstone class entirely due to said paper. And yes, Soulja Boy's Crank That still gets me fired up- I know the dance and do it EVERYTIME it comes on. No shame.
6. I really want a job that requires travel because then maybe I could figure out where I want to live. I am getting the two year itch and contemplating trying out North Carolina next. Barbie is trying to get me to move to DC.
7. In high school, I played softball, ran track and managed the football team (aka water girl). I tried out for cheerleading but didn't make it. During this time, I weighed in at 95 lbs. By the time I graduated I was up to 105 and thought I was fat. Good Lord, high school girls really have a skewed vision of the world. I'm just starting to get back to my athletic roots and loving it. I really feel so much better about myself after a kickball or softball game!
And since I'm so generous, if you havent gotten this award yet (please let there be one of you), tell me so I can give it to you below :)
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Wednesday Wig Out
Why are some people so unable to read blatant social cues? There are just certain facial expressions and tones of voices that scream:
LEAVE.
ME.
THE.
FUCK.
ALONE.
If I'm giving you one word answers, stop asking questions. More than likely, your questions are stupid and there is no need to be asking them in the first place. When you ask an open-ended question and I give you a yes or no answer...there's your sign asshole.
When the words please advise appear in an email or written memo, that generally means I don't know what the fuck I am doing and my innate professionalism has driven me to come to you for guidance. Therefore, you respond with a how-to guide or a quick explanation. You don't ignore me and just complete the task yourself. You don't say "I got it" because then when it comes up again we will just repeat the cycle. And I hate repeating ridiculous cycles (unless it involves booze).
If I am looking just over your shoulder or barely laughing then I don't want to be talking to you. I know, it's crazy to imagine someone doesn't want to speak to you or even listen to the oh so fascinating words coming out of your mouth but it does, in fact, happen once in a blue moon. So end the damn conversation and walk away. This way I don't have to offend you.
I know there are other ones out there (like when I ignore your texts asking me out, I don't want to go out dude. Not difficult) but these three occurred today so I felt a need to vent about them. Tell me about missed social cues that drive you crazy!
LEAVE.
ME.
THE.
FUCK.
ALONE.
If I'm giving you one word answers, stop asking questions. More than likely, your questions are stupid and there is no need to be asking them in the first place. When you ask an open-ended question and I give you a yes or no answer...there's your sign asshole.
When the words please advise appear in an email or written memo, that generally means I don't know what the fuck I am doing and my innate professionalism has driven me to come to you for guidance. Therefore, you respond with a how-to guide or a quick explanation. You don't ignore me and just complete the task yourself. You don't say "I got it" because then when it comes up again we will just repeat the cycle. And I hate repeating ridiculous cycles (unless it involves booze).
If I am looking just over your shoulder or barely laughing then I don't want to be talking to you. I know, it's crazy to imagine someone doesn't want to speak to you or even listen to the oh so fascinating words coming out of your mouth but it does, in fact, happen once in a blue moon. So end the damn conversation and walk away. This way I don't have to offend you.
I know there are other ones out there (like when I ignore your texts asking me out, I don't want to go out dude. Not difficult) but these three occurred today so I felt a need to vent about them. Tell me about missed social cues that drive you crazy!
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