So, I am riding an emotional rollercoaster of epic proportions lately...on the one hand, I'm prepping for gigs and focusing on music, and yay awesomeness of that....of course, then there's the dying grandmother and how much that is fucking sucking the suck of much fucking suckage. Whatev. I'm trying not to get all big and dramatic now. I figure there'll be time enough for that when the inevitable comes knocking on my door.
In the meantime, I have a few petty gripes to share. Bitching about them all out of proportion with their actual impact, and in ways that don't actually affect anything, allows me to channel some of my rage about other stuff into safe outlets, so I consider it a valid coping method. Enjoy!
Peeve the First: *MY* Fucking Obama Holiday Mug
I have received about six e-mails with the subject "Your Obama Holiday Mug" in the past couple days. First off, I know my mugs intimately, and I don't have a holiday mug, let alone an Obama holiday mug. So, dudes, your first mistake was telling me something is mine when it is not. Secondly, I don't want a fucking holiday mug, let alone an Obama holiday mug.
Attention Democratic National Committee, Obama campaign people, MoveOn.org, local Democrats, and whatever other groups I may have donated to during the election: STOP SENDING ME 50 FUCKING E-MAILS A DAY asking for money, trying to give me cheap crap I don't need, and/or reminding me that "the fight's not over yet." I know the fight ain't over yet. It won't be over until the people who are trying to make the world a better place aren't still trying to bribe people with landfill fodder like FUCKING OBAMA HOLIDAY MUGS. Any one of you assfaces notice we have a goddamn environmental crisis? Any of you assfaces think maybe it has something to do with jackholes who mass produce useless shit (in China?) and hand it out indiscriminately without any thought of its fucking environmental impact?! WHAT THE FUCK, DUDES?!
Peeve the Second: Air Fresheners in Public Restrooms
Okay, ladies. I get it: poop stinks. Yes, I know it's an awful reality, but there you have it: poop stinks. I don't particularly enjoy smelling shit any more than the next girl, but at least it's a natural smell that I kind of expect if I'm headed in to pinch a loaf myself.
You know what I don't expect to smell? Fucking air fresheners. Sure, poop stinks....but the human body is sort of designed to deal with that. It's sort of a natural thing. Unlike chemical-laden air fresheners filled with carcinogens and particles that lungs are NOT designed to handle. Especially since, instead of actually making anything smell better, they smell of perfume and plastic and petroleum - none of which actually get rid of the original smell of shit. So, really, it winds up smelling like petroleum-covered, plastic shit dipped in perfume. Sounds like an awesome smell, yeah?
No. Not at all. It doesn't smell any better than poop smell - and in fact, it smells a good deal worse. So cut it the fuck OUT.
Peeve the third: The End of the Year
It's bad enough that the holidaze are here, and the (marketing disguised as) music is nonstop everywhere, and it's like an elf puked all over downtown Chicago. It's bad enough that I'm having to make hard choices like: do I get my neices the American Girl dolls they want and that would make them very cool kids, even though American Girl dolls represent everything I believe is ruining the world? It's bad enough that I'm wrestling with the crap "what to do on NYE" issue AGAIN (throw a party? go out somewhere? which friends might want to hang? can I snag a date to make out with in time?!).
On top of all that holidaze bullshit, year end also means my office is bathed in a fucking frenzy of stuff-I've-been-back-burnering-for-six-months-is-now-imperative-and-must-be-done-now-GAH!! I'm working longer hours, squeezing in more stuff, and fielding more frantic phone calls. It is starting to damage my calm.
Loud-mouthed liberal feminist. Anarchist knitter. Tequila-drinking artsy-smartsy fat chick. Bluesy folk-rock singer-songwriter. Rebel with too many causes. Quirky eclectic pagan poet. Paradoxical intuitive smartass. Sarcastic brainiac insomniac. You know, for starters.