Ohfuhgawdsakes!!!

I found myself repeating that phrase multiple times in the past 24 hours. I thought about this and realized that it has basically come down to three events. So in an attempt to lower my blood pressure and prepare for a relaxing weekend, I shall vent for you, the entire internet.

Exhibit A: I present this one first for it is, by far, the least funny and most terrifying. I was driving home on my lunch break to change my pants (I must have sat in something... there was some goo on the back of my thigh like right where the chair ends.... erm... irrelevant). OK, so I'm taking Big Busy Boulevard to Little Street, which is where I need to turn, right? Right. As I'm approaching my intersection... no light, no stop sign... I notice a woman pushing one of those tiny umbrella strollers, also approaching the intersection going the same direction I am, about to cross Little St. I think, hm, I hope she doesn't try to blindly cross that street. I put on my blinker. I slow down. She stops right on the corner, turns around, looks directly at me. I think, oh good, we have communication, she sees me, I see her and like normal people would, she will wait 1/2 a second while the car, which is must larger and much faster and coming off of a busy street and simply cannot stop in the middle of the road (ah, and don't forget, I was in a bundle of green-light escapees.... I really couldn't stop) makes the turn and then I can cross Little St safely with my little bambina. So she immediately turns right back around AND PROCEEDS DIRECTLY INTO THE INTERSECTION! By this time, I'm already beginning to turn, so I swing way far out to the left (good thing no one was coming my way on Little St) and still barely miss her. I look into my rear view mirror and she is literally, standing in the middle of the street giving me a dirty look. Hey, lady, you almost got mowed over by a Hyundai, GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE STREET!!! Now from the time I began to turn until the time of the dirty look was just enough time for me to inhale sharply and exhale, so it happened pretty quick. I honestly do not know if I was in the wrong or not. I tried to put myself in her flip-flops and I still cannot understand seeing a car coming with their blinker on, slowing down, about to turn and still going through the intersection. I personally wait until both roads are clear before I navigate an intersection like that. Do pedestrians still have the right of way when there's no crosswalk? I mean, I wasn't going to just stop in the middle of the road and wait for her to mosey across. That would've surely caused an accident. Whew. OK, it's over. Glad I got that out.

Exhibit B: Yesterday, I went to Taco Cabana. Here is my order: Chicken quesadilla, two soft chicken tacos, no lettuce or tomato, one 32 ounce drink. I did not say it fast. I always wait for the cashier to finish pushing buttons on one thing before saying my next item. I'm considerate like that. She then asks me if I want pico de gallo on my quesadilla. This question always kinda irks me because it's supposed to come with pico. If I didn't want it, I'd say I didn't want it, eh? So I look the girl straight in the eye and give her an emphatic "Yes" to the pico inquiry. So I wait. Doot-dee-doo. Fill up my tea. La-ti-da. Here's my order. I pick it up. Chicken quesadilla, no pico, one steak taco with no lettuce, tomato, OR CHEESE. Go back and read what I wrote at the beginning of Exhibit B. See what I ordered and compare. So I check my receipt. Chicken quesadilla (unmodified.... check.... kitchen got that one wrong by leaving off the pico), One steak taco (when I ordered 2 chicken tacos), no lettuce, no tomato (she got the condiments right). So why did they leave off the cheese!!! So not only did the girl put the order in wrong, the kitchen fucked up what she had already fucked up! WHAT THE FUCK?! I swear to San Antonio I am never going back to that Taco Cabana ever again even though I love Taco Cabana, as a general thing. They screw up my order every single time and it's even worse in the drive through. I am sad that I have to break up with my nearest Taco Cabana. Good thing there's one by the mall. Mmmmm the maaaaaaallllllll..............

Exhibit C: OK, this one.... I don't know if you'll find it funny or not because it has a lot to do with my work and I don't know if I explain my work well enough sometimes. So you see, I assign rural addresses. This is something that must be done, believe it or not, with a certain level of accuracy. It's rural, so a lot of addresses are far apart, and you have to allow for future development, blah blah blah. So we've got a pretty good system going with the County. The County issues permits and then requests the address for the new house/barn/business from me. I assign it, notify the county, send a letter to the resident. Simple as pie for the resident. The County requires the permit, not so much to restrict building, but just so that they know what's going on and so no one builds in a flood plain and all the proper culverts are put in blah blah blah boring work stuff.

So this woman.... let's call her Tammy. She calls my coworker Kandy, who mercifully screens most of my phone calls and refers them to the County, which is where they need to go first for their permits before bugging me about an address. Apparently, Tammy had bought some land and was about to move her mobile home onto the land. She went to the post office and they requested that she contact me to make sure it was a valid address (I hope I don't give too much away when I tell you right off.... it wasn't). Tammy did not take this well because she already supposedly had an address. It was on her contract. It was legal and binding. Or..... was it? So Kandy confirms the location of the lot and tries to refer her to the County for a permit. She says, "My name is Tammy Smith... can you check to see if my builder filed for it?" Kandy informs her that no she cannot check because you do not file permits in this office. Would you like the number for the County? Tammy: "But why can't you make it valid? It's been the address for years." Kandy: "Because that is not the correct address. You have to get your permit first and then we will assign you an address." The conversation goes on and on like this for at least 10 minutes, all the while Kandy is trying to steer this woman over to the County. Finally, she gives up and decides that she wants to talk it over with me before advising Tammy any further. So Kandy asks her, "I'd like to talk this over with Dianna, who assigns the addresses. Can I get your phone number so we can call you back?" Tammy: ".......... Oh. I don't know my phone number." This is where we sort of start to think that maybe Tammy ain't the brightest. Kandy: "OK Tammy. Can you call back in about 20 minutes, then?" Tammy (in awe and wonder): "........How did you know my name?" Kandy: *smacks head repeatedly* "Ma'am. You told me your name when you were asking me to look for your permits." In reality, she'd told Kandy her name about four times already. OK, short term memory problems here......

So then I get a phone call from Keith. Keith is the cosigner. I can hear the dip in Keith's lip. Please couple that with the biggest Texan accent you can fathom. "Permit? I don't need no permission for nothin, I just go n' do it!" Me (fighting back the urge to congratulate him snarkily): "Well, sir. If you don't get your permit, I can't give you an address." Keith: "We done got our address! Why cain't ya just tell the post office here that it's good?" Me: "Uh.... because it's not?"

Let's pause here and fill you in. They were using an odd number on the even side of the street... big no-no. The lot in question actually already had an address (an even one), but hell if I was going to give that out without a permit. Whoever had that lot before had obviously made up the address... and poorly, at that.

Keith: *talks in circles and says everything I've told you about five more times*
Me: *doodles whilst repeating herself about five more times*
Me: Sir, would you like the number to the County? They can tell you whether you need a permit or not and if you don't need one, they'll call me and you'll have your correct address in about ten seconds.
Keith: No, I don't wanna talk to the County.
Me: *perplexed seeing as I just told him exactly how to solve his problem*
Keith: I'll have my builder call you.
Me: Um. OK.
*click*

Builder calls. Thankfully, he seems to have some working brain cells. I explain the permitting/addressing process to him. He says he understands and takes down the number for the County. Yay! Success!!! .....Or is it?

Today I get a phone call from TJ. I have no idea the relation to these people, but he is very concerned as to why they can't just use the odd number. OHFUHGAWDSAKES!!! Go back and talk to the OTHER THREE PEOPLE that this has been explained to AT LENGTH within the past 24 hours! And then call the County!!! Thankfully, TJ takes the number and very politely thanks me for my help.

WHEW!

And now the weekend can begin. I have some good news for you too, but honestly, I think I need another post for that since I'm not sure how many people who actually started this thing finished it. And people? It's Friday and we need good news. Venting. Venting good. Ooh, know what else is good? Venti.

Until the happy post..... ta-ta!

The Last Two Weeks Have Been Awesome!

Yeah, you heard me! I better hurry up and tell someone before the vacation from emotional turmoil ends. Aaaaah.... someone get me a Mai-Tai and quick before it's all over.

It aaaaaaall started July 6th. But I can't really get into that night too much. I have this weird superstition about talking about things before they've..... erm.... blossomed. So let's just say I met a guy and I like him and he appears to like me and a lot of it has to do with the fact that I completely kicked his ass at trivia. We should probably also factor in my spectacular rack. OK, so that was a Wednesday. That next Friday, the 8th, a woman approaches me and says she recognized my trivia name. What am I? Some sort of trivial celebrity? Well, apparently her son had told her all about me. That's right, I met his mom right then and there. Turns out, she's a pretty cool dame and we ended up talking most of the rest of the night. Oh yeah, and she's an attorney. That becomes important later.

And THEN!!! July 9th!!! Guess who I went to see? Go on. Guess. OK fine, I'll just tell you!!! PAT BENATAR!!!! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!! She is soooooooooooo awesome! More exclamation points!!!!! I had so much fun! Even that part where Beth almost had to kick that psycho girl's ass. I mean, in an evening of such ass-kicking, it would've fit right in. First, we got down to the Stockyards and parked our matching CRVs and took off on foot to go eat. Naturally, we find a bitchin burger joint with a lazy hostess and school chairs. God I love Fort Worth. Seriously. Then we went over to Billy Bob's to get ourselves a good standing point in the concert bowl. I have no idea why she plays at the World's Largest Honky Tonk, she just does, OK? Anyway, so we take shifts saving the spot and going to the bathroom, etcetera before Pat comes on. The people are kinda sparce even though we got pretty close. So it's my turn to go and Jessica and I go as buddies and we visited the radio station table and got a pen and some magnets and we go back to the spot and it is CROWDED! I mean, it is PACKED! Luckily, we were standing behind the lesbians who turned out to be very short lesbians. And right behind me? A tall guy. Freakin sweet! I had a perfect view and the guy behind me... it's almost like he kept a clear perimeter around me. So I wasn't crowded and I could see Pat Freakin Benatar right there. SHE WAS RIGHT THERE! I tried to record a voice memo of some of my favorite songs, but all I could hear later was, you guessed it, me singing along! Hehehe Totally worth it, though. I had a blast not only because of who I saw but who I was with. So a big what what goin out to JeshCa, Em, Da, Jordanna, and Ebizaleth. I had a BLAAAAAAST!

Ah, OK, what came next? Oh! The Wednesday after that.....the 13th! I meet up with the Mom again, right? The guy's mom... not mine. And I let it slip that I have never received a child support payment and that there were never any legal documents filed to establish paternity (and therefore grandparents' rights). Man, that really set her off. She got on my ASS about never doing that! I have had some very good friends and family members try to persuade me to get those papers filed. They did all they could to try to convince me, but I was very fearful of the wrath from the co-parent that I could incite. He's not physically abusive or anything, but he's got a mouth on him and he has threatened me before with lawyers and taking Gabi away and while I am not a big wimp, the mere thought of losing my daughter terrifies me. The other thing holding me back.... I didn't know where to start and I am not financially prepared to hire an attorney. So she informs me of all the consequences of not filing those papers, and they are a-plenty. Not only am I missing out on child support payments (which are NOT about me or him, they are about HER), but Gabi's grandparents have no rights. That made me feel like a real asshole. So we exchanged phone numbers and she called me the next day about noon. She had been on the phone with the Texas Attorney General's office ALL MORNING getting the information I needed. She told me exactly what to do. And that night? I did it. I finally did it. So the paperwork is filed. And it didn't cost me a cent. Cross your fingers, toes, whatever and hope for smooth sailing. I did tell the co-parent's mother and she was grateful and doesn't think that he'll be angry with me. We'll just have to see about that. But at least now I know I have a support system behind me just in case.

And then last Friday and Saturday I did get to see the guy again. He's really tall. And better looking than I had remembered. OK, that's all I'm saying. Seriously. OK fine, we kissed a little. Fine, a lot. But who knows? I'm not getting any expectations up. I'm just going to enjoy it when I enjoy it. And I can't tell you any more about him at least until I come up with a clever nickname.

And Saturday, my Mom came into town. Since my birthday is Friday, she took me shopping. For a NEW BED!!! Wheeeee!!! I have had the same day bed for the past fifteen years. Same mattress, everything. Needless to say, it's in sad shape. The only times I didn't use it was the two years I lived in the dorm in college and the two years I lived with the co-parent. I am so excited. It's a queen size and I got all new stuff for it... pillows and all. I shall live like a queen indeed. So that will be delivered Saturday. I simply cannot wait. And then, she told me what I'm getting for my next birthday... the big 3-0.... a CRUISE! I've never been on a cruise!!! In fact, I haven't been on a vacation.... haven't even left the state (except for Oklahoma and like that counts) in 10 years. TEN YEEEEEEARS!!! I haven't even been on an airplane. That sucks, y'all. No really. I love Texas, but I think I need a break in order to fully appreciate its wonderfulness.

And this coming Friday is my birthday and since my REAL birthday present/party was the Pat Benatar concert, I'm just going to keep it simple and hang out at the regular bar, hopefully with some extra people. It's not really about where I go, but who I'm with. And then Saturday, Jordan is having a party so yay full social calendar. At least this week. Hehehe! So finally, I feel like everything is really going well. I have no idea how long it's going to last, so I'd better relish it while I can. WEEHOO!!!

I just realized, I'm not as funny when I'm not totally bitching about something. Hee! OK, I'd better get to bed because this morning? I got to work 25 minutes early and I'm going to try to do it again. As much as it sucks getting up earlier, it is weirdly satisfying to get there early. I can't believe I just said that.

One more thing.... GOOOO RANGERS!!! They beat the Yankees tonight! Woooohoooo!!! It's always sweet when the Yanks lose, but it's extra sweet when it's at the hands of the Rangers.

Amazing Race Rocks My Face

Just in case some of you are not aware, Game Show Network is running every single episode of the Amazing Race ever to exist every night (apparently, except Monday???) at 9 ET/8 CT. I had better get my VCR fired up because I'm going to be recording .....whatever comes on at 8 so Gabs and I can watch TAR. But don't worry.... know why? Because they replay it at 11!!! This is going to be completely emotionally draining and wonderfully exhilarating all at the same time. The first episode alone kinda made me tear up a couple times. Damn that Amazing Soundtrack. It's fun to note the differences: the route markers, the rules, Phil's hair. It will also be fun to go back and read the TWoP recaps! Wheeeeeeeee!!!! I've started reading the first episode's recap (Season 1 started last night) and I have found a wonderful passage in it that I would like to pass on to everyone because I can't stop reading it because it is so awesome:

At this point, Frank busts out a "little quiz" for Margarita. The question? "Who's the boss? Who's the boss?" Margarita rolls her eyes and points out that he wasn't supposed to "start that," which suggests to me that he does this regularly. Nice. She grits her teeth and says, "That would be you, honey." Then she giggles.

Now let me pause here for a moment. I'm no fan of Frank, and I'm not going to defend what he did here, or what he does anywhere else. But you know, she's not earning any points with me either. I hate it when women pull this crap -- telling themselves that it's okay to tell some controlling asshole exactly what he wants to hear, as long as they do it with the gritted teeth or the eye roll or whatever it is that they think indicates that they don't really mean it. You know what, hon? He doesn't care if you mean it. He's proving he can make you say it. He's proving he can make you do what he wants, and the fact that you hate doing it so much actually makes it MORE fun for him, not less. Nobody deserves to be treated like this, but Margarita certainly appears to be a party to her own misery. Tell him to shove it, or don't, but don't cave and try to look tough at the same time. And furthermore, Frank? Tony Danza called and asked that you stop taking the name of his show in vain.

Preach on!!! That is advice that I need like you would not believe. OK, maybe most of you believe it. Man.... something to think about. Real real hard. Aaaaaaaaaaaaanyway.......

This is going to be so much fun! I hope I don't get TAR burnout...

London Calling

Do you know what I do not want to hear on the news tonight? How people in Dallas are reacting to these barbaric (tm Tony Blair) attacks in London. Do you know what I DO want to hear on the news tonight? How people in LONDON are reacting!!! Hellooooooooooooooo!!!! Can we focus here? Freakin media.

I hope that didn't sound insensitive. My point is that we should be focusing on the people of London and those injured and lost. My thoughts, as well as Gabi's, are with those affected.

As I've studied disasters of all types, a few things have really stuck with me. The first thing that comes to mind is that whatever information you see or read within the first 24 hours.... at least half of it is wrong. In the mad rush to get the information on the airwaves, many media outlets just put up what they heard or thought they heard and rely upon speculation and present it as fact. It's not good or bad, it's just what happens. We are all hungry for information and they give us whatever they've got. The problem is, a lot of us are really not in the mood to pick apart the reliable information from the questionable information. But we should be vigilant about the information we believe and repeat. The media is our best friend and worst enemy in times like these.

Now the big, humongous, massive problem I have with the media is the myth that they perpetuate every time something awful happens: that there is panic and chaos in the streets. I even read one story with the headline "Panic and Chaos in London Following Attacks." I tried to find the link, but it appears to be gone now or maybe they changed its headline (it was an AP story on Yahoo). If you actually read these stories and not just headlines like that one, you will find that Londoners were actually very calm and helpful to one another. Yes, they were shocked. Who wouldn't be? Naturally, there will be some that panic. But widespread panic is a myth. The truth is, the real first responders are victims and bystanders. And from what I read (yet another story I can't seem to find again... this one was on CNN.com), there was an emergency plan in place and it was followed properly. Hospitals were not overwhelmed and emergency services functioned as had been planned. I think this disaster and its response will be studied for years to come.

But what I really find remarkable is that the transit system was up and running by the end of the day (as much as possible, anyway). I saw some pictures of crowds.... CROWDS waiting to board the trains as soon as they reopened. Wow. Way to give those assholes the finger, eh? Double-barrell, at that. They wanted to disrupt your lives and cause panic, but they failed. What they got was calm and resilience. Bravo, London. You will be invincible. Oh, and congrats on that Olympics thing. That'll be one hell of a party.

And no comparisons to 9/11, please. These are very different scenarios and the only thing that they really have in common is the involvement of al-Quaeda whack job fundamentalists who really think that killing innocent people is going to convince us to do one damn thing they want.

With all that being said, our thoughts are with you, Londoners. Hope I didn't say anything to piss you off. These are just my opinions from across the pond. Cheerio.

FIRE!

Hurray for Independence Day! It is most certainly my favorite holiday, for without it, we may not have any of the others. I hope all of my American friends had a lovely day and I hope all of my friends across the pond, up yonder, and way down under were all amused by us Americans yet again. And just this one day out of the year, I'd like to say "Up your nose with a rubber hose, England!" =)

I had a good one. Took Gabs to the water park here in town. Couldn't find my SPF 45, so I thought I'd just try to stay in the shade most of the time. Well, that worked out well. I am now ON FIRE! My body is cold, yet my skin is about 500 degrees. Go on. Cook an egg on my shoulder. It'll be grand. Actually.... where's that Crisco?

And then we went up to the mall to view some fireworks and see Raven. Yes, Raven as in Olivia from the Cosby show. She's very popular with the Disney crowd. So popular, in fact, that the only place we could barely get a glimpse of her was actually outside the event "gates" and off to the side. I perched my wee one up on my badly sun damaged shoulder so she could see. It hurt like hell, but was totally worth it to see her singing along and yelling "Go Raven!" She was in hog heaven. It was also worth it because we were behind one of the radio station vans (actually in between two of them), and the guy stuck with the job of telling everyone to get off the vans was wicked hot. So Gabs got to see Raven and I had some eye candy and all was good. Then we cut out of the concert.... that we were really never technically at.... to go find a spot to watch the fireworks. It was 87 degrees when we got home, so it was probably at least 90 out in the mall parking lot with a few thousand people. Poor lil princess was hot. But as soon as the parking lot lights went out, she perked right up and ooooh'd and aaaaah'd with every firework. She also asked why they're called fireworks. I asked her what they SHOULD be called. Her answer: firecolors. Can't argue with that. The kid's a genius. What can I say?

So anyway. She was asleep before we got home and now I'm about to head off. I wore us both out today. WHEW! Big time sleepin is the only thing left to do today. Good night, dear blogworld.

It's F Day!

OK listen. I have to get this off my chest before it infects my entire weekend. Better to do it now instead of letting it fester. Also.... I should attach an adult language advisory and if you would like to go on believing that I do not curse like a sailor when I am set off, please do not highlight the following. Thank you.

How come some people cannot fucking admit that they were just a jerk to me??? They KNOW they were a jerk, yet they call me bitchy! Grrrrr!!!! For EXAMPLE!!! The past few weeks, Gabi's grandfather has picked her up from school on Fridays. This week, I was told that he would not be picking her up and I would need to pick her up and wait for her father to get off work and her father would pick her up from my house before taking her to his mom's. Gottit? OK, well I decide that it would be better for everyone involved if I dropped her off at his work since it is much closer to his mom's and it would not make sense to double back all that way to my house and back south to his mom's. OK? Follow me here? So I call at 4:50 pee em and leave a message with my child's father asking if I should just take her to his work instead of going home and to please call me and let me know what he would like me to do. I clear my desk, go downstairs and put postage on last batch of mail and head out. I stop by the post office to drop off said mail and head to the day care. A Queen song comes on. I am happy. I get to the day care. Well, everyone working at the day care came on their shifts at 12:30 and none of them have seen Gabi all day. Huh. So the lady in charge calls the director who was there this morning and the director confirms that Gabi's grandfather picked her up this morning. OK fine. Whatever. I get back out to the car and my phone is ringing. It is the child's father. My ears are red just thinking about this conversation. First thing he says is, "I see you called. What did you want?" OK first off, fucker, I left a message. That's what I called about. So I explained that I called at first to ask if he wanted me to drop her off at the bank but now I'm just wondering what happened. Did he express any appreciation for my effort to make HIS LIFE EASIER??? FUUUUCK NO! And he starts in with, "Well I was going to call you, but I've had a busy day." I ask him, very genially mind you, "Oh. Well when did you know he would be picking her up?" He says he knew at 7:20 that morning! But he didn't call because he didn't want to wake me up. WHAT??? What the hell does he know about what time I get up in the morning??? The anger begins to build...... As I start to say that he could've called me he says, "I don't need your bitching and sniping, OK? We've had a rough day and our computers crashed and all the customers are bitchy." OK, hold up. I'm the one bitching??? I arrive to pick up my daughter and SHE'S NOT THERE and now I'm being the bitch? Oh, fuck you mister. I inform him that it would've taken him ten seconds to call and tell me what is going on and he pretty much verbally rolls his eyes at me with an "Oh whatever." Now I'm pissed. I let him know that his shitty day is not an excuse to lay into me for letting him know that I don't appreciate being kept out of the loop. It's like his family is Gabi's only family and I'm this minor annoyance and he doesn't have to have a shred of respect for me or my time. Then he's all "*Sigh* I have to go." And I say, "Oh, but I'm sorry, Dianna. I took my crap day out on you. I shouldn't have sniped at you for absolutely nothing." And he very sarcastically adds, "You're right." And hung up. Now what the fuck. He just gets to be a major ass to me and never has to make amends for it? What's it going to take for him to be a decent human being to me? He's fucking great to everyone else, but a complete ass to me. And no, that's not my paranoia speaking. I've seen him give total strangers more respect in 5 minutes than he's given me the 7 years we've known each other.

OH, and speaking of which, same goes for fucking CK. He is a slimy jerk to me every time I see him, yet expects me to be all sweet n rosy and accepting and cheerful. I gave him the benefit of the doubt for way too long and I'm sick of getting walked all over. Sorry, fuckers I'm all outta nice. Call me a bitch all you want, but you won't be getting any more common courtesy from me. I have been far too kind and understanding to two fuckwads who couldn't care less about understanding a solitary word that escapes my mouth. So fuck you and fuck you.

OK, I'm all fucked out.

And Dear Verizon,

Next time you send me a little "telegram" via Western Union, there better be money inside. Bastards.