fuzzybluemonkeys: Meg living in captivity. (one girl revolution)
Because the rights of hypothetical children that don't actually exist supersede those of living breathing human women.



This post is brought to you by NPR being on in the bookbinding studio, and the fact that I had to put headphones on because it is too early in the morning for me to experience this much rage.
fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (breakfast)
So previously, I've talked about de-religionifying the "Good King Wenceslas" carol, but this year, I've decided it should stay religious. Particularly the bit that's all:

Therefore Christian men be sure,
Wealth or rank possessing,
Ye, who will now bless the poor,
Shall yourselves find blessing.


And then we staple it to the foreheads of all the supposed Christians in congress.
fuzzybluemonkeys: Rufus/Bucket of Sunshine (oh the humanity)
So previously, I've talked about de-religionifying the "Good King Wenceslas" carol, but this year, I've decided it should stay religious. Particularly the bit that's all:

Therefore Christian men be sure,
Wealth or rank possessing,
Ye, who will now bless the poor,
Shall yourselves find blessing.


And then we staple it to the foreheads of all the supposed Christians in congress.
fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (Default)
I am pro-Union all the way. Like, I will be joining the Graduate Assistantship Union-y doodles even though because of some funked-up Iowa law, you can still benefit from the Union without actually joining it and paying dues and such. Which strikes me as a rather douchey thing to do, but I know some Princeton Support Staffers would jump right on that gravy train (and still somehow find ways to complain that the Union isn't doing enough) because, well, people suck, and they are ignorant to just how epically screwed they would be if there were no unions.
But the really sad part of the Union presentation was that in addition to the Yay! Affordable Health Care! bits, their main selling point* seemed to be the 'social opportunity' of going to the (Union-funded) Happy Hour once a month. Meaning that my dues are going to [in part] be funding somebody's intoxication. Not cool.
I realize that I have a minority view in this regard, and "suck it up and move on" is really my only option given my stance on Unions and desire not to be a hypocrite, and I already filled out the Union membership card and turned it in and such, but it irks me, okay? I mean, if you want to waste your money on alcohol, you don't really need my approval anyway, so it doesn't matter that I think purposely impairing your own judgment is stupid or that I have zero sympathy for anyone with a hangover (because seriously, you did that to yourself there, sunshine), but when it's technically my money, that I would prefer to have spent doing labor-related Union-y things... it's just. There was a fleeting moment when I considered not joining because of that, and that irks me, too. And. Yeah. I realize it's probably not much in the grand scheme of my Union dues, but it bugs me, so I shall rant about it and maybe feel better afterwards.


*It's possible I'm overreacting due to my distaste, but it's my journal and I'll hyperbole if I want to. Also, to put this in perspective, it bugged me enough that I raised my hand and specifically confirmed that dues were in fact going to the aforementioned Happy Hour in a crowded auditorium full of people (and of course they answered 'yes' like that was a positive, though the one woman seemed to catch the snap and clarify that there were other beverages available which doesn't really help me since I barely tolerate sober people, so I sure as hell ain't hanging out in a bar with drunk ones.)


Aaaand now I have to decide whether or not I'm going to the Center for the Book welcome party thingummer for everybody in the program when I hate shit like that, and there will inevitably be alcohol there, too (though at least that won't be the sole purpose of the gathering-- of course the other purposes are food and social interaction which aren't exactly my strong suits either), but, like, I know I ought to go for the sake of social convention politening/pretend to be normal, but I don't wanna.
fuzzybluemonkeys: Meg living in captivity. (one girl revolution)
Are you volunteering?

I said, are you volunteering?

Are you volunteering to take care of these children? To house and cloth and feed them? To pay for their education and health care for the next 18 years or so?

Are you volunteering to comfort them when they're hurting? Are you going to wipe their nose and hold their hand and teach them how to tie their shoes?

Are you volunteering to take them to doctor's appointments and play-dates and dance lessons and band practice? To ground them and take away their phone privileges when they've stayed out past curfew?

Are you volunteering to explain to them why, instead of going straight to heaven (do not pass go, do not collect $200), you forced them to be brought into this world where they are not wanted? Where they are poor and hungry and abused? Are you volunteering to be there when they realize that life is messy and unfair?

Or does life stop being precious once it exits the womb? Or maybe it's that life stops being precious when it becomes your problem, your burden, your responsibility?

So when you pick up your signs and start yelling, keep in mind: children can't be stored in a shed, or a basement, or a garage between protests. Children can't be replaced when they get worn out or dirty.

Children are a lot harder to carry than signs.

So I ask again, are you volunteering?
fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (breakfast)
So I was fully planning on going to work today.
Yesterday, I shovelled the hell out of the area surrounding my car. Got the car itself cleared off. Even started it up and moved it back from the frontal snow bank.
This morning, I got up, I got ready, I went out to my car. I scraped the frost off. I tried to start it.

It will not start.

HATE.

So, now I'm up early when I would have rather slept in, and I'm gonna have to call Triple A.
fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (snark)
Boring Manager Rob is...

A) High on drugs
B) Psycho crazypants
C) Demented
D) A Moron
E) All Of The Above

What has he done now? You ask. Well, I'll tell you. Today was our weekly staff meeting which usually consists of BMR having nothing to talk about and the rest of us having to sit through it without committing violence.
This week, one of his non-topics was the H1N1 vaccines that the University is offering.
Me: Except in order to get one you need to have a baby or a pre-existing medical condition.
BMR: No, no, that was last time. This time it's for everybody.
My thought at this point: Whatever, maybe I read it wrong.
Ted: Nicole's right, the email did have the same restrictions as last time.
BMR: No, no. You should read your email more carefully. Blah blah blah if you read your email more carefully you wouldn't miss important information like this.

So, at this point, he's basically chastising us and making a big deal out of us misunderstanding the email due to not taking the time to read it. Ted, smarty that he is, asks BMR to forward the email (he deleted it after learning it did not apply to him, as did I).
After the meeting, we get the forwarded email. It says exactly what we thought it said. At this point, he has gone out of his way to be smug and send us the proof that he is wrong:

The actual email. I dare you to find the bit where it says the H1N1 flu vaccine is no longer restricted. )

I read the email. I re-read the email. Ted has read the email and asks me if it says what we thought it said. It does. We boggle. Ted actually goes into BMR's office and points out to him that the vaccination is not for everybody. BMR insists that they changed some wording from this email to the last one for the previous H1N1 clinic such that now it is no longer restricted. We boggle some more. I say "Fine, let him go down there and wait in line like a chump. Maybe he'll believe it when they tell him."
We mock him mercilessly while he is out at lunch and presumably going to get his H1N1 flu shot that he is not actually eligible for.
Then, this afternoon we get this pitiful little gem:

"Folks,

I went to Frist to see about getting a flu shot. I am too healthy and
do not fit the profile of those who are eligible. Now we know from sure.

Robert"

And so I must laugh because the alternative is sobbing hysterically about this man actually being in charge of me.
fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (who)
There is a library book that has multiple chapters* worth of this bullshit:




I erased most of it on Tuesday and my wrist still hurts.

Why? Why would you write in a library book that does not belong to you? Why would you underline an entire chapter worth of text instead of just making some notation about how chapters 5-7 are the ones you need to use? Why can't you just make some photocopies? Why can't you just take notes? Why do you do these things to the point where I have to hurt myself undoing them?

*I decided to forgo actually counting how many chapters because then instead of reading this you'd be reading about the Princeton employee who went on a killing spree and first stabbed her victims in the right hand with a pencil before shoving an eraser down each one's throat.
fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (Default)
I wrote most of this out on post-it notes during work, but never got around to typing it up.
Let me tell you the tale of how I ended up with an ugly-ass purse.
There is overly complex backstory.
Once upon a time, there was a librarian who was diagnosed with cancer (this story doesn't have a happy ending, folks). By all accounts, she was a very nice person, so this is sad, but I never met the woman, so I can't say I was particularly broken up about it.
However, when this happened, Man, the most annoying co-worker in all the land, became obsessed with her and the details of her ongoing condition, estate, and who knows what else. Now, in most instances, I'd assume someone reacting this way was really close friend with the ailing librarian, but because this is Man, it's entirely possible that he was just being his usual weird/creepy/nosy self. My personal theory is that he knew her, but not well enough to be all up in her business like that.
Anyway, time passes, the librarian dies, people are sad. Her family admirably decides to donate her belongings to charity, but first they offer her books (and apparently other things) to her friends? People who knew her? The library community? I don't know who they intended to give it to, but Man invites me to come with him on Tuesday, when he goes to her apartment to look for books. I decline because it seems sorta weird to raid a dead woman's apartment, and I didn't even know her, so it's not like she would have wanted me to have her stuff or something. Also, he informs me of the charity bit, so it's not like I need to save things from a landfill.
Soooo, all this roundabout finally gets to the point where Man goes to her apartment supposedly looking for books and comes back with a purse. That he proceeds to give to me. I pretty much flat out tell him I don't want it, but he's all "You can give it to someone else." You know what I did with the damn thing yesterday? I gave it to mom so she can donate it to Purple Heart. In other words, it's going to charity, which is what would have happened to it if he had just left it in the dead lady's apartment. Instead, he had to make it my problem and give me a creepy death purse.
You might argue that I'm being a bitch here and Man was just being kind and thoughtful, but you know what? Anyone actually thinking of me while looking at that purse would be thinking, "Nicole would never ever use that ever." I mean, anyone who's known me for more than five minutes would be able to figure out that I would not be interested in a white faux-leather old lady handbag. And the kind thing to do would be to keep it far away from me.
fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (breakfast)
Now, I admit that I know pretty much nothing about architecture, and for all I know , the new Lewis Library is an architectural masterpiece and not a giant sea monster (it totally looks like a giant sea monster though). But it seems to me that the point here would be to design a nice looking building that also manages to serve the purpose it was built for.
At the end of the day, dude was hired to design a library, and guess what?
THEY PUT BOOKS IN THOSE.
I mean, what was the point in spending millions of dollars on this architectural brouhaha if it doesn't actually fulfill its supposed purpose of housing the science collections? I mean, really, Mr. Gehry, if the book and maps don't fit your artistic vision? Tough. Shit. Use your mad architectural skillz to make them pretty-- don't bust out the Kraken of the Deep and give it minuscule amounts of shelving. Don't banish the Map Room to the basement for not having a pretty enough collection.
The Lewis Science Library we wound up with totally defeats the purpose of having a centralized Science Library at all. The majority of the Science Collections? Not actually in the Science Library. No, they're in the "Lewis Science Library Fine Hall Wing". Fine Hall is an existing building where the the Geo-sciences collection [and a couple others, I think] WERE ALREADY HOUSED. SO WE BUILT A BRAND NEW BUILDING JUST SO WE COULD LEAVE EVERYTHING WHERE IT ALREADY WAS.

Because Frank Gehry is a hack.

And of course, the University is just going along with this bullshit like it's not a non-functional mess, and I guess Mr. Lewis doesn't care what happens so long as he gets his name on a building.
fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (oh)
Warning: The information I'm about to impart may induce nausea.

So, the digital technicians have been getting themselves pregnant (there are only 3 total but 2 of them were concurrently pregnant), and when the first baby was due, a card got passed around for everyone to sign. This is a nice idea and perfectly acceptable. What Boorish Manager Rob wrote on the card? Not so much.
"Hope you have the best delivery ever!"
I'm sorry, but as someone's boss, you should not be putting that much thought into an event that involves something coming out of your employee's vagina.
Now, the next due date has rolled around, and another card is being signed. You might think that there's no way BMR could possibly come up with something worse than the first time. You'd be wrong. You'd be so very, very wrong.
This time he wrote, "Easy does it." What. The. Hell. That is just super fantastic gross. And also? EW.
fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (breakfast)
(But you still wouldn't like me when I'm angry)
Okay, see, if you are making an enclosure, you do not leave exposed adhesive such that the Rare(!) book you are ostensibly trying to protect will get stuck to said adhesive.
And the issue is not that he made a mistake: we all make those and try to salvage what we can so we don't have to redo the whole thing. It's not even shoddy workmanship. We're talking a fundamental nonunderstanding of what it is we do.
And on top of that this is the douchebag who spends large amounts of time complaining to me about our co-worker's supposed deficiencies. It's probably better for both of that he's not actually here today (which is a rare enough occasion to potentially be considered a sign of the apocalypse).
fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (dork)
Now, I realize that the logic behind the design of this jar of applesauce is that it is easier to grip/pick up [see Exhibit A], but the upshot is that it becomes, like, physically impossible to get all the applesauce out of the jar [see Exhibit B]. (Yes, water could be used to loosen it, but I prefer my applesauce undiluted, thankyouverymuch.)
As a consumer of applesauce, I am much more interested in accessing all of the applesauce I have purchased than I am in having an ergonomically designed jar.

Exhibit A:


Exhibit B:


Dear Musselman's,
You make very delicious applesauce, but your jars suck.
Hate,
nicole
fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (transport)
Oooh look at my big fancy legal words!

Anyway, ranting is about to ensue, so prepare yourself.

So, the Union Meeting for ratification of the proposed contract was today (and also 2 fucking hours long, thankyou), and what it mostly consisted of was people being obnoxious, whiny whiners about friggin' everything. for the first part of the meeting they had the people from HR and the Labor Relations guy there to explain the what and wherefores and answer questions. Pretty much the same question got asked over and over again: "I'm not getting as much money as I want- how come whynot?" with the subtext being "Why can't the Union negotiating committee get me what I want?"
Which, I get, because, yeah, the University is run by greedy little bastards, and it's not the best contract ever, but come on, people, it's not like the Union makes a list of demands and the University capitulates. They've been negotiating for 6 months now. Every single gain we got (however pitiful) is because of the Union negotiating for us. What sort of imaginary, miracle contract were you expecting to get? And consider, for a moment, how much worse off we would be without the Union because then it wouldn't be a contract so much as the University saying this is what we're giving you, and if you don't like it, tough shit.
And do you really think going back to negotiations is going to magically make them change thier minds? Labor Relations guy was actually refreshingly blunt about the University being a business and therefore not inclined to accomodate our every whim (sadly, he didn't entirely abandon the "University as benevolent father" schtick that I could really do without). Maybe I just have lower expectations than everybody else, but I mean, seriously, what else would you expect? For them to be fair? For them to be nice? In what alternate reality do businesses give a flying fuck about being nice? I mean, sure, it would be nice if the University were a socialist utopia, but it's not, so why are you expecting the Union negotiators to work miracles. They're fighting the University every step of the way on this because the University's goal is to pay us the least amount possible and accomodate us as little as possible, so the fact that they got for us what they got, is pretty impressive.
I handed in my vote and left early because I just couldn't stand it anymore. The negativity was like, a separate presence in the room. And even though I didn't say anything I felt like I had been in a long argument or something afterwards.
What I wish I had the guts to have said:
"Look, let's all just take a moment to be grateful for the fact that we actually have jobs and are not desitute or living in a cardboard box. Because yeah, there are starving people in Africa, blah blah blah, but there are also starving people in New Jersey, and I, for one, am glad to not be one of them."

And, I mean, I despise the University (and that's on a good day), but I wound up being on their side because y'all are a bunch of selfish whiners.
Try shutting up long enough to get a little perspective, people.
fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (breakfast)
This is a common sense, we get 22 vacation days every year thing. Therefore, if you only take 7 vacation days, you will not have used up all 22 days.
And you're trying to blame it on HR for not telling you? Last I checked, we were responsible for keeping track of our own vacation days. And there is a record online, but *gasp* you have to do mathematical calculations to convert from hours to days [horrors!]. Of all the things to be upset about with our craptastic HR department, something that is your own damn lazy fault is not one of them.

Seriously, you've worked here for at least 5 times as long as I have, how have you not figured out that you need to use up your vacation days yet? How have you made it this far entirely dependant upon HR to calculate what's left for you?
We start out with 22 days. More if you had some carryover (max: 6 days). When you take a vacation day, subtract from that. Then you will know how many vacation days you have left. If the end of the fiscal year is approaching and you have more than 6 days left, you'd best use those suckers up.

Whether they send you a form about it or not, whether they hold your hand and walk you through the process or not-- because guess what? I'm fairly certain they don't give a flying rat's ass if you should wind up losing some of your vacation days. That means more time spent working for the University, instead of getting paid to slack off at home.
fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (breakfast)
The roads between here and Princeton are actually fucking closed due to flooding, and I'm a little unclear as to how they plan to unflood them between now and 10am.
I suppose I should be glad they're giving us 'til 10am, since the first time I checked, there was a big giant nothing under the Emergency Alerts section.
But, yeah. If they are currently flooded, and it's still raining, how is it magically going to be better such that we can get in by 10am?

Update the first: I am wearing my Harvard shirt just to be contrary right now because apparently, I'm supposed to take my fucking rowboat and/or swim my way to hypothermia work. As predicted, the roads have gotten worse, not better (and seriously, people, if I can figure this out, the frakking Ivy Leaguers shouldn't be having this hard a time). My options for getting to work:
295 to Rt. 1- ramp from 295 to get onto Rt.1 is closed due to flooding.
295 to 206- supposing I could get past what is sure to be stand-still traffic at the ramp closing for the Rt.1 exit, 206 itself is closed at Province Line Rd.
And even supposing I knew which local roads to take, if the major roads are flooded, I am uninclined to believe that the minor ones aren't.

In short, due to road closings, it is actually physically impossible for me to get to work today.

I think I am going to email Robert instead of calling him because if he has the nerve to tell me "It's not that bad" I'm going to fucking curse him out and/or throw my phone out a fucking window. That's what it's come to, folks: phone defenestration.

Update the second: Okay, they've finally come to their senses and given us the whole day. Even though in order to be there by 10am we would have had to leave before they made this announcement. And people more dedicated than I would be stuck on the road right about now. So yeah, they're still assholes, but at least I don't have to use a vacation day.
fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (breakfast)
I do not comprehend virtual gifts.
I mean, the charity ones, sure. $0.99 to charity and then as a bonus someone gets a nifty thingy in their profile.

But for the non-charity ones? Where all you're doing is paying LJ to put a picture in someone's profile that expires and goes away after two weeks?
Nope. Don't get it.

Send them a free e-card. Write a post about how awesome you think they are. Make your own little graphic that they can keep in their profile forever if they want to.
Heck, you could probably buy them some actual chocolate and snail mail it to them for not much more than 99 cents. It wouldn't be high quality chocolate, but it'd taste a lot better than the virtual variety.
fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (breakfast)
*wakes up to the sound of ice hitting the AC unit/windows*
*proceeds to get hopes up*
They gotta at least give us a delay, right?
*listens to the super-long list of school closings on PST*
Is it weird that I always have to listen to see if Pennsbury got the day off? Probably.
*calls Princeton snow hotline*
"Blah blah blah-normal operating hours-blah blah blah."
*throws down phone*
"Assholes. I fucking hate them."
*turns on TV*
"Blah blah blah-roads are very icy-blah blah blah-traffic is slow-blah blah blah-look at all the accidents!-blah blah blah."
*listens to PST snow closings again*
"Blah blah blah-don't drive unless you really have to-blah blah blah."
*calls snow hotline again*
It'd help if the guy doing the announcement didn't sound so smug about it.
*calls Robert*
"Hi Robert, it's Nicole- I'm not feeling particularly inclined to risk my life in order to come to work today so I'm going to take a vacation day."
"Blah blah blah-roads aren't that bad-blah blah blah."


Yeah, maybe not in downtown fucking Princeton.
I mean seriously, Robert lives close enough to ride his bike to work. "The roads aren't that bad." Shut up, Robert.
Seriously, I think it's pretty safe to say that the professional staff are the only ones who can actually afford to live in Princeton and the rest of us plebs are just expected to schlep in from Trenton if not farther.

I'm glad I have a job. I like my job- it's probably the least miserable I could possibly be while being employed full-time. I think it pays well, considering.
But there are times when I really fucking hate my employers and the gorram caste system they perpetuate.

Fuck you, Princeton.
fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (oh)
What if we worried about the people who are actually alive now rather than ones who may (or may not) be alive in the future?
~
What if the people who claimed to be "pro-life" actually were pro-life?
~
What if all the unwanted children that were born anyway had loving parents (and not necessarily of the biological variety, either)?
~
What if men could get pregnant?
~
What if paternal responsibility were actually enforced/enforceable?
~
What if women had the right to choose what happens to/inside their own reproductive organs?

Oh, right.

They do.

Governments and Religions be damned, we bloody well do.

Gah.

Dec. 12th, 2006 11:29 pm
fuzzybluemonkeys: Smith & Jones (Mickey & Martha) (partners)

Dear Yo Hello?  Writers on House?  Are you there?  Do you live on this planet?  How about in this country?  I realize you don't live in Jersey, but the laws can't be that different in California.

If you are going to do a plotline involving the U.S. criminal justice system, but are unwilling to do any research on the workings of said criminal justice system, could you at least watch a gorram episode of Law & fucking Order?

I like your show*, really I do, but it should not make me want to crawl through the TV and strangle each and every one of you.

*I guess I should more accurately say I like your characters.  With the exception of Tritter.  And Vogler.  And Stacy.  So, basically non-main cast members who are on for more than one episode (and their accompanying story arcs) tend to blow.  
Maybe you should stop doing those.

fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (breakfast)
As a soldier in the War on Christmas, I've decided to lob an IIE (that's Improvised Incendiary Entry) at plastic baby Jesuses everywhere.

Ah, the light-up plastic Nativity: Dude, if you want me to take your religion seriously, tacky-ass lawn displays are not the way to do it.

I mean, this is the son of God, right? This is the Virgin Mary! This is... well, sorry Joe, but somebody had to be the cuckolded patsy.
But these people are, like, major players in your personal belief structure, and here you are chucking them up in plastic effigy on your front lawn.

You know what that says to me? It says that you are so insecure in your beliefs that you feel the need to put a big honkin' sign out to let everyone know that you're for real. Dude, if you believe in Jesus, then good for you, but shoving it in people's faces is disrespectful of both Jesus and the people whose faces you're shoving things into.

Prominently displaying the Nativity to your neighbors does not make you a better Christian, the same way lighting a big ol' chalice does not make me a better Unitarian Universalist.
They're just symbols, and they are so very, very fake. You wanna prove to me that you believe in Jesus? How about following some of his teachings? My understanding is that Jesus was all about the humility, not to mention forgiveness and love and understanding for all.

The louder people yell about how faithful they are, the more fragile their faith seems to me.

So please, for the sake of sweet light-up plastic baby Jesus, skip the tacky proclamations of how Christly your Christmas is.
fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (oh)
Dear Anyone Who Thinks It's a Good Plan To Sit Outside an Apartment Building (or Any Residence) and Intermittently Honk Your Horn for Half a Gorram Hour,

Is it not obvious that your strategy is Not Working?
Would it not be more time effective and oh, I don't know, Less Obnoxious to get off your lazy ass and go ring the doorbell of the person you are so impatiently waiting for?

Just a thought,
me.

"Democracy"

Nov. 5th, 2006 06:57 pm
fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (breakfast)
The approach of election day should not make me queasy and depressed.

The exercise of my hard-won* right to vote should not feel meaningless and empty.

I ought to be voting for a candidate-- not against his opponent.

I should not be forced to choose the lesser of two evils (I'd like at least 4 or 5 evils to choose from, thanks).

And I should not feel obligated to apologize to my ballot for not picking the candidate whose views most closely align with my own, but rather the one who has a chance in hell of winning.


*Well, not by me, but thanks Sue B.! You deserve so much better than to have a much-derided dining hall/dormitory at the U of R named after you.
fuzzybluemonkeys: (highway)
I'm glad I wasn't the target of your ire, but honestly? I don't think Christ gives a flying fuck whether or not you fill up your obnoxious SUV before or after the people who cut in front of you in line.
Speaking as someone who has waited in line a good long while only to be hijacked of my spot by someone coming in another entrance, I get that it's annoying, but is it really worth the apoplexy? Is it really worth the shouting? Is it really worth the "for Christs' sake"? Really?
Meanwhile, Christ is off to the side, quietly desperate: "No, no. They're not with me. I don't know these people."

Just suck it up, and if it's still bothering you when you get home, write a big, angry, ranting, vitriol-filled blog entry about it. It'll make you feel better, and people might actually be sympathetic to your plight rather than just rolling their eyes and muttering asshole as they drive away.
fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (want)
I really don't understand why the brain trust cannot seem to figure out the concept of a library. You know, where the books do not belong to you? And therefore you should not be writing in them at all, let alone permanently defacing them with ink?

My pitiful non-Ivy League brain can figure this shit out, so it really can't be that hard to dredge up an ounce of common sense, and, oh, I don't know, some respect for other users and the books themselves.

I realize that there is general wear and tear involved in using actual books and that you may accidentally drop a book or rip a page or spill some coffee, and I acknowledge that I would not have a job were this not the case. But writing in a book? Underlining half the pages? That is a deliberate and conscious maiming of a text, and for that I have no words more appropriate than insults.
fuzzybluemonkeys: (highway)
I mean, I sort of already knew, but it's like being officially told that Santa Claus doesn't exist as opposed to just suspecting that to be the case. And it's dumb because as much as I hate mom's ageism, I do have higher expectations for people older than me. I mean, they're adults.
Granted, there is a culture/language barrier in this instance since co-worker #1 was born and raised in China, but still- he's been working at Princeton for 10 years. Co-worker #2 has been working there for at least 5, whereas I've been there less than a year. So why hasn't all this shit with the radio and cleaning the job-backers come up before now?
Because these two people, like, refuse to talk to each other. They both talk to me, no problem, but they've been working together for five years. I mean, seriously, even I can talk to a person after I've known them for five fracking years. These are problems that could be solved by just, you know, actually telling the other person there's a problem. They're both perfectly nice to me, why can't they be nice to each other? Because I am not the mediator here. It is not in my job description to resolve your squabbles. Complaining to me accomplishes jackshit nothing because I'm not the one doing the whateveritis that bothers you so damn much! I am the newbie-the lowest person on the toem pole. Like Nog, I am only in charge if everybody else dies, and then they'd hire new people and I still wouldn't be in charge. If it's really that big a deal, why not talk to someone with actual authority? Or, again, you could talk to the person who's bothering you, rather than just subtly hinting at it and insisting they know it's a problem, because obviously they don't know and if it hasn't worked for the past five years, it's not going to randomly start working now.

GAH!
fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (just me)
Where to begin with my woes? I was actually all good and prepared-like because I went out and brushed the snow off my car last night, but I did not anticipate the ice wheel-stops that had formed around my tires. After much squealing and a funny smell, I managed to break up the ice using the point of my free Princeton umbrella. It's still not as cool as the Penguin's but I guess it'll do. Then came the horrifying traffic, later made extra horrifying by the fact that I was like two minutes outside the University and it took me a fracking half-hour to traverse Alexander Road because it wasn't freaking plowed. I mean, seriously, Alexander Road is not a highway by any means, but it is one of the main roads in and out of Princeton and apparently Washington Road wasn't plowed either and they should have given us a gorram delay, dammit. So, despite waking up at normal time, I didn't get to work until 9:50am, and by that point, I was in an immensely foul mood, so I decided to use 2 hours of "Compelling Reason" time and take a short lunch so that I could leave early to take care of the other problem, namely Ringo having a bit of an accident on my bed. I have decided that it was panic leakage because his claw was caught in my blanket and he was freaking out and it was just a tiny little drop, not like he actually out and out peed. And this is me putting my fingers in my ears and singing "la la la" really loudly when you try to tell me it's the diabetes. So I took the sheet and mattress pad to PUs' and washed it with Petzyme and stayed for dinner while I was at my favorite laundromat. And for once, spending time with my mother actually improved my mood. The apocalypse, it has begun.
fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (cuppa)
This is what I get for reading the gay men's magazines when I'm supposed to be temp-binding them. )

re: union

Nov. 11th, 2004 04:16 pm
fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (breakfast)
Dear "President" Bush,
I will go find myself a terrorist and beg him to behead me before I unify with a bunch of homophobic, sexist bigots who don't care about the environment, and really don't worry about anyone or anything that isn't their own sorry asses. These are people who think I'm going to hell, not because I killed thousands of people in Iraq, but rather because I dare to stand up to their prejudice and hate by realizing that I don't have to believe in some diety in order to be a good person. I did not vote for you, not only because I think you're a terrible president but because you're a dispicable human being. You use hypocrisy and dishonesty to try to convince people that you have legitimate policies. Well, guess what. I am not stupid. I am not proud to be an American either. In fact, half of voting Americans make me want to puke. Winning by 1 percentage point does not give you a mandate. It give you a percentage point that is really pretty puny in the grand scheme of things. As are you thankfully. However, as your puny-ness is less than my own you have a greater responsibility than I do. Than even those lousy people who voted for you out of some misguided fear of things they cannot understand. You have an oppurtunity to make the world a better place, but if the last 4 years are any indication you'll be fucking it up even more than you already have. The division in this country is the only thing that keeps me hanging on. That keeps me hoping. That keeps me saying "Well, at least 49% of Americans aren't assholes." It's not a majority. It's not quite half. But it is something. I cannot put aside my differences because they are the only thing that separate me from your hypocritical warmongering, from your lies and half-truths, from your spin, from your hatred, from your selfishness, from your murdering. Unify this feckface: you suck.

Sincerely,
n.d.
fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (Default)
The bathroom has been vandalized. Not just the girls' bathroom and not just our floor. As far as I know every bathroom in this hall has had two things taken from it: all the toilet paper and all the shower curtains. This is an exceptional quandry for someone who

a) sometimes can barely make it down the hall let alone to another hall or halfway across campus
b) might go to the bathroom thinking only of urination and bringing enough tissues for that, but then find that an intestinal spasm strikes requiring much, much more

So thanks, ever so, to you lovely folks who decided that stealing all the toilet paper would be a fun prank. You have now made my life and my intestinal problems that much more crappy (pun intended).

As for the shower curtains, if replacements are not available by this evening, I intend to improvise using a combination of bed sheets and nautical charts.

And the best part is, the people who are currently suffering the effects of this vandalism are the ones who are going to have to pay for it.
Assholes.

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