I get an email on December 20th, 2013, inviting me to a ceremony. The ceremony is scheduled for January 29th, 2014.
On December 21st, I reply to this email with a few questions. Standard stuff.
No response for weeks.
So I send another email on January 6th, 2014. You know, I gave it around 2 weeks.
Tonight, January 28th, I get an email with a response. Less than 24 hours before the ceremony.
I wish I could say this is the first time I've had a delayed response from this particular person who works at a major University, but it isn't.
This is one of the worst customer service experiences I've ever had, and I worked in customer service for over 3 years. I never took NEARLY SIX WEEKS to reply to someone.
Not that this is a time sensitive subject or anything... it's just about a ceremony... no biggie, right?
Tuesday 28 January 2014
Thursday 23 January 2014
Thought of the Day: Women Stray but Don't Cheat
I have a problem. Sometimes, I am not emotionally faithful.
We turn our wedding bands around in dark bars.
We take off our promise rings in crowded rooms.
We flirt with the possibility that maybe, yes, maybe this could happen.
And why should we worry, with such a big safety net?
Girls tempt guys. Some girls. No matter how perfect the relationship, no matter how satisfied and happy and blahblahblah a girl is, some just like to wander.
It isn't unfaithfulness, but it's something close.
So we don't mention we're taken. We leave that off the table. We accept drinks. We flip our hair. We put on extra mascara. Spray perfume in extra special places. Wear the good underwear. Impress guys the way we haven't impressed our own in so long.
And it isn't all girls. But it's some. Their nature is to stray. It's to meander along those blurred lines. Those lines become fences and you can't straddle everything, you know?
So when those propositions happen, as they inevitably do, we don't stop them in their tracks. We could. It's easy. We know it's easy. But we allow them to happen because we will always think 'what if?'
Is that in my blood? More than anything it's an affliction of my mind.
I daydream, and night dream, and fantasize, and wonder, and make up ambitious scenarios involving late night laughter in poor lighting and warm parts under cold bridges. It could be with anyone, really.
So does this mean I'm not actually happy? That I'm looking for someone else? I don't think that's it. In fact, I think I'm wired that way... to always wonder. To be drawn to mystery and the potential of bad things that ruin relationships.
I'm mostly happy. To be honest, I'm happier than most people. But I'm easily bored. And what's really interesting... what's truly the opposite of bored, is the feeling I get when I fantasize that something could happen. Even if it never would.
So I look over past emails, saved MSN chats, Facebook messages, old captured pictures from the webcam days, and reminisce. I fondly remember.
And more than anything, it is just all too flattering that people still want me. It reminds me that in a lengthy relationship, my appeal hasn't just disappeared. Feeling desirable is dangerous. Many women fall prey to this and they find themselves unleashing a barrel of monkeys.
So I feel flattered. I remember these moments in my past and I think, I could have this again if I wanted to. And just that feeling, just that, is enough. I don't need to explore. I don't need to break hearts and actually stray and cause my own unhappiness. My brain is explorative enough.
What if one day it isn't? Would I call it a mistake? What if I don't know the true meaning of a mistake because I've never made a big enough mistake? If I think too long on it I may just reconsider everything I've ever done, and that's too deep for this time of night.
We turn our wedding bands around in dark bars.
We take off our promise rings in crowded rooms.
We flirt with the possibility that maybe, yes, maybe this could happen.
And why should we worry, with such a big safety net?
Girls tempt guys. Some girls. No matter how perfect the relationship, no matter how satisfied and happy and blahblahblah a girl is, some just like to wander.
It isn't unfaithfulness, but it's something close.
So we don't mention we're taken. We leave that off the table. We accept drinks. We flip our hair. We put on extra mascara. Spray perfume in extra special places. Wear the good underwear. Impress guys the way we haven't impressed our own in so long.
And it isn't all girls. But it's some. Their nature is to stray. It's to meander along those blurred lines. Those lines become fences and you can't straddle everything, you know?
So when those propositions happen, as they inevitably do, we don't stop them in their tracks. We could. It's easy. We know it's easy. But we allow them to happen because we will always think 'what if?'
Is that in my blood? More than anything it's an affliction of my mind.
I daydream, and night dream, and fantasize, and wonder, and make up ambitious scenarios involving late night laughter in poor lighting and warm parts under cold bridges. It could be with anyone, really.
So does this mean I'm not actually happy? That I'm looking for someone else? I don't think that's it. In fact, I think I'm wired that way... to always wonder. To be drawn to mystery and the potential of bad things that ruin relationships.
I'm mostly happy. To be honest, I'm happier than most people. But I'm easily bored. And what's really interesting... what's truly the opposite of bored, is the feeling I get when I fantasize that something could happen. Even if it never would.
So I look over past emails, saved MSN chats, Facebook messages, old captured pictures from the webcam days, and reminisce. I fondly remember.
And more than anything, it is just all too flattering that people still want me. It reminds me that in a lengthy relationship, my appeal hasn't just disappeared. Feeling desirable is dangerous. Many women fall prey to this and they find themselves unleashing a barrel of monkeys.
So I feel flattered. I remember these moments in my past and I think, I could have this again if I wanted to. And just that feeling, just that, is enough. I don't need to explore. I don't need to break hearts and actually stray and cause my own unhappiness. My brain is explorative enough.
What if one day it isn't? Would I call it a mistake? What if I don't know the true meaning of a mistake because I've never made a big enough mistake? If I think too long on it I may just reconsider everything I've ever done, and that's too deep for this time of night.
Friday 17 January 2014
Why are vets so expensive?
I just spent $50 on eye ointment. It's a 10g tube.
How am I paying $5 for a gram of product. How.
I blame it on my cat's cuteness. She is overwhelmingly adorable. I look at her eyes, see them watering, and somehow suck it up and pay this ridiculous fee.
Not to mention it costs $60 each visit as a consultation fee. This only involves them checking her weight and teeth.
Then 'to be safe' they did the corneal scan. $40.
Feeling much poorer, you'd think I'd feel better when I applied this ointment to my baby's eye and she got all better. But you see the vet gave me the ointment, not the eye drops. I didn't think there was a huge difference at the time, but I am an idiot.
Drops can be dropped from a distance. Say, one claw swipe away. Ointment needs to be applied about 3cm away from the eye. This involves having to force her eye open while trying to squeeze this finicky (and minuscule) tube with my other hand.
Somehow this ointment is the stickiest shit on the planet. It curls around the applicator tip, and slides right off her eye. Thanks.
By the way, you should see the bandaids all over my hands. Because no one wants someone messing with their eyeballs!
So I suck it up. I go back. And it's another $60 consult. And they tell me the drops are MORE expensive. More expensive than $5 a gram? YES.
My wallet is crying.
How am I paying $5 for a gram of product. How.
I blame it on my cat's cuteness. She is overwhelmingly adorable. I look at her eyes, see them watering, and somehow suck it up and pay this ridiculous fee.
Not to mention it costs $60 each visit as a consultation fee. This only involves them checking her weight and teeth.
Then 'to be safe' they did the corneal scan. $40.
Feeling much poorer, you'd think I'd feel better when I applied this ointment to my baby's eye and she got all better. But you see the vet gave me the ointment, not the eye drops. I didn't think there was a huge difference at the time, but I am an idiot.
Drops can be dropped from a distance. Say, one claw swipe away. Ointment needs to be applied about 3cm away from the eye. This involves having to force her eye open while trying to squeeze this finicky (and minuscule) tube with my other hand.
Somehow this ointment is the stickiest shit on the planet. It curls around the applicator tip, and slides right off her eye. Thanks.
By the way, you should see the bandaids all over my hands. Because no one wants someone messing with their eyeballs!
So I suck it up. I go back. And it's another $60 consult. And they tell me the drops are MORE expensive. More expensive than $5 a gram? YES.
My wallet is crying.
Monday 13 January 2014
Thought of the Day: Losing my Superpowers
"Oh, that stuff never happens to me."
That's one of the most common things I say. Because it was, at one point in time, true.
You get the hiccups? I get the hiccups once every year or two.
Sickness? Like real bed-ridden look-miserable sickness? Once every few years.
I haven't fallen down in my adult life.
I've never had anything in a microwave explode on me.
I haven't burned myself in recent memory.
I have only dropped my phone (my old phone from 4 years ago) once.
I cannot remember the last thing I dropped something and it broke.
I cannot remember losing anything. Once I thought I lost my sweater, but it turned out that my cat had pushed it behind my dresser. I found it months later and rejoiced.
I don't misplace my keys. I seldom leave the house having forgotten something inside.
I fell on a man once, on a bus... this was 6 years ago.
I found it to be my superpower. I don't experience those mind-numbingly boring little life quirks that most people do. I don't even get splinters! Papercuts, I do get. I don't think anyone is immune to that hell.
I've never put clothes in the wash that still have something in a pocket.
Once I dropped my sunglasses in the toilet. So there's that.
But today, I realize I am losing my superpowers. In the same week as my microwave finally dies (after 26 faithful years of service), my iPhone craps out.
To be specific, it still works. But I cannot connect to a network. I can make calls, text, and surf the internet and use apps whilst on Wifi... but if there's no Wifi, I can't connect to the internet.
This is the beginning to my downfall. I can see it now. Next week I'll slip in the rain. The following month maybe I'll step on something and break it. Who knows, maybe I'll even leave my headlights on. Anything is possible now. I'm becoming normal.
That's one of the most common things I say. Because it was, at one point in time, true.
You get the hiccups? I get the hiccups once every year or two.
Sickness? Like real bed-ridden look-miserable sickness? Once every few years.
I haven't fallen down in my adult life.
I've never had anything in a microwave explode on me.
I haven't burned myself in recent memory.
I have only dropped my phone (my old phone from 4 years ago) once.
I cannot remember the last thing I dropped something and it broke.
I cannot remember losing anything. Once I thought I lost my sweater, but it turned out that my cat had pushed it behind my dresser. I found it months later and rejoiced.
I don't misplace my keys. I seldom leave the house having forgotten something inside.
I fell on a man once, on a bus... this was 6 years ago.
I found it to be my superpower. I don't experience those mind-numbingly boring little life quirks that most people do. I don't even get splinters! Papercuts, I do get. I don't think anyone is immune to that hell.
I've never put clothes in the wash that still have something in a pocket.
Once I dropped my sunglasses in the toilet. So there's that.
But today, I realize I am losing my superpowers. In the same week as my microwave finally dies (after 26 faithful years of service), my iPhone craps out.
To be specific, it still works. But I cannot connect to a network. I can make calls, text, and surf the internet and use apps whilst on Wifi... but if there's no Wifi, I can't connect to the internet.
This is the beginning to my downfall. I can see it now. Next week I'll slip in the rain. The following month maybe I'll step on something and break it. Who knows, maybe I'll even leave my headlights on. Anything is possible now. I'm becoming normal.
Thursday 9 January 2014
Thought of the Day: Dramatic TV Shows
I used to love drama. I used to constantly watch anything remotely dramatic on TV.
Somehow over the last few years, I've done a 180 spin and landed myself in a position where I can't watch more than one episode of a dramatic TV show.
I used to be able to watch The Walking Dead with fervour.
First few episodes of Breaking Bad? That was excellent stuff.
I'd watch Parenthood with my parents, discussing the different misfortunes that befell the characters.
The Sopranos? Couldn't get enough.
Now, I can't stand it. And I know precisely why. I can't watch dramas because they make me sad. I feel terrible after an episode airs. I feel emotional wrecked. I've gone through the wringer, and my soul is the victim.
Now, in my old age, I seem to gravitate towards shows that make me feel happy after they're over. The Office. Parks and Recreation. Community. Shows that make me laugh and giggle and enjoy the hot chocolate in my hands. Not stare at the screen in surprise and horror regarding whatever main character did to a supporting cast member.
My frail heart can't handle the drama. I have enough drama in my real life, I don't need to see it depicted on screen as well.
This goes for film as well. I used to be able to enjoy a good dramatic film. Now, I would choose a brainless action movie or even comedy (though I think watching comedies in theatres are a waste of money) over a drama.
I think now with my fragile ever-changing emotions, I just need to know what I'm watching will make me feel good about myself, and make me feel like filmmakers and TV producers feel the same way: they also want to make people feel good.
Somehow over the last few years, I've done a 180 spin and landed myself in a position where I can't watch more than one episode of a dramatic TV show.
I used to be able to watch The Walking Dead with fervour.
First few episodes of Breaking Bad? That was excellent stuff.
I'd watch Parenthood with my parents, discussing the different misfortunes that befell the characters.
The Sopranos? Couldn't get enough.
Now, I can't stand it. And I know precisely why. I can't watch dramas because they make me sad. I feel terrible after an episode airs. I feel emotional wrecked. I've gone through the wringer, and my soul is the victim.
Now, in my old age, I seem to gravitate towards shows that make me feel happy after they're over. The Office. Parks and Recreation. Community. Shows that make me laugh and giggle and enjoy the hot chocolate in my hands. Not stare at the screen in surprise and horror regarding whatever main character did to a supporting cast member.
My frail heart can't handle the drama. I have enough drama in my real life, I don't need to see it depicted on screen as well.
This goes for film as well. I used to be able to enjoy a good dramatic film. Now, I would choose a brainless action movie or even comedy (though I think watching comedies in theatres are a waste of money) over a drama.
I think now with my fragile ever-changing emotions, I just need to know what I'm watching will make me feel good about myself, and make me feel like filmmakers and TV producers feel the same way: they also want to make people feel good.
Monday 6 January 2014
Thought of the Day
Doctors who think putting something into someone's eye is easy, are morons.
Specifically, my vet thinks putting ointment into Luna's eye THREE times a day, is easy.
There are a few obstacles that I have encountered.
Specifically, my vet thinks putting ointment into Luna's eye THREE times a day, is easy.
There are a few obstacles that I have encountered.
- She has claws and doesn't mind using them on me
- She has teeth and doesn't mind using them on me
- She has these sad questioning eyes that make me feel like the betrayer of all her trust
- She makes this sad hrrmmmhmmm noises
- The stupid ointment applicator tube is impossible to unscrew with one hand
- The dumb ointment applicator tube squeezes out either too much product, or not enough
- The idiotic ointment comes out in a swirl, as opposed to a line of product that is impossible to apply
- She has claws and doesn't mind using them on me
In addition to these things, I am on my own in trying to hold her down and apply this ghastly stuff. I've gotten some on me, it stinks. I'm sure it stings her, makes her vision blurry, and shakes her faith in humankind.
No one can help me. I have to somehow wedge her adorable little body between me and the floor, use one hand to force her eye open, and the other to somehow unscrew the tube, keep the tip from getting contaminated (so it can't touch ANYTHING), then squeeze it quickly into her eye before she realizes what's happening, jumps up, bites me, attacks, whatever.
Three times a day? Yes, Miss Vet, sure. That'll happen. With all the trust I'm breaking, you're lucky I get one full application in there.
Then I take a look at my poor kitty, see her eye weepy, and fear her eyeball will just explode. So I suck it up. I try my best. I wear my battle wounds with pride.
Thursday 2 January 2014
Thought of the Day
I am more and more becoming a crazy cat lady.
I have a song that I sing when I'm feeding Luna. It goes: "Yummy yummy yummy in my tummy tummy tummy." This crazy tune continues until she finishes eating and gives me a head-tilt. She knows the score. She isn't the one that's nuts.
I often misplace things (that comes with owning a cat too, right?) and end up asking her, directly, if she's seen said things. I get another adorable head-tile and sometimes a low hrrm-hrrroo.
It's when I am sleeping that I realize I have truly lost it. I sleep in a twin bed next to a wall. Whenever she crawls under the covers with me, I will literally bend over backwards so my 'little baby' is comfortable. She pulls some cirque-du-soliel shit beside me whilst I'm clinging to the edge hoping I won't fall out.
Finally succumbing to the wiles of my adorable kitty, I settle for the corner of my bed. Any child would be scolded. Any normal animal would be chastised then promptly pushed to the floor. Somehow, in my mind, I have concocted stories of how she will resent me should I punish her.
She's only a year old. Sigh.
I have a song that I sing when I'm feeding Luna. It goes: "Yummy yummy yummy in my tummy tummy tummy." This crazy tune continues until she finishes eating and gives me a head-tilt. She knows the score. She isn't the one that's nuts.
I often misplace things (that comes with owning a cat too, right?) and end up asking her, directly, if she's seen said things. I get another adorable head-tile and sometimes a low hrrm-hrrroo.
It's when I am sleeping that I realize I have truly lost it. I sleep in a twin bed next to a wall. Whenever she crawls under the covers with me, I will literally bend over backwards so my 'little baby' is comfortable. She pulls some cirque-du-soliel shit beside me whilst I'm clinging to the edge hoping I won't fall out.
Finally succumbing to the wiles of my adorable kitty, I settle for the corner of my bed. Any child would be scolded. Any normal animal would be chastised then promptly pushed to the floor. Somehow, in my mind, I have concocted stories of how she will resent me should I punish her.
She's only a year old. Sigh.
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