I hate subpar service

I do not want whipped cream.
I do not want a larger size.
I do not want fries.
I do not want any of that crap.
Further more if I did want it I would tell you.
But mostly I really, really, really do not want that fucking whipped cream. NO.

This is not my first time at this establishment, but if you keep asking me asinine questions it might be my last. The last few times I've gone to Starbucks they have put whipped cream on my latte. I don't dislike whipped cream but I don't like it on my lattes. I don't really like it on anything, when I do eat whipped cream it tends to be on pumpkin pies and only on pumpkin pies. Or just a bowl of whipped cream, totally healthy.

My last visit to Starbucks was a super unpleasant experience. They said the chocolate chai latte was super good. They lied. Shit was super gross. Granted I should have known better since I haven't had a good chai latte from Starbucks ever (iced or a frappuccino is okay, but still not as good as a homemade one). Adding the chocolate, which turns out is the mocha mix, was a horrible idea. They only good mocha is either peppermint or white chocolate. The straight up mocha is disgusting (at all coffee places). Thankfully the barista was more then willing to give me a different drink for free. Unfortunately she kept asking me if I really only wanted a black coffee. Dude. Asking once makes sense, but if you keep saying "Are yous sure" it's a good way to get hot coffee thrown in your face. Yes, goddamn, I am sure. If I didn't want it why would I ask. All of the lattes are terrible, the tea is gross leaving black coffee as the only palatable menu item.

Which, quite frankly, is sad. Because everyone knows Starbucks coffee is brunt to the ninth hell. And lots of people like that. I am not a big fan, but at least the burnt taste is consistent.

Back to the bad experience. All I wanted was to sit, surf the internet and enjoy a cup of coffee. They have three outlets in the entire store, at least ones customers can reach. Someone was sitting by each one. Which is kind of douche of the people, I always thought there was some unwritten rule about not sitting by outlets unless you needed them. Guess that's just me. If you are a coffee house you really should have more than three outlets. Like, really, what the hell. All in all I would rate that experience at a two on a scale of five. It could have been worse but I still ended up leaving to find someplace with outlets and internet. Both of which put me in a super pissy mood.

Starbucks you fail here.

So to all of the business' out in the world. Stop asking asinine questions and just give me exactly what I ordered. It's not that damn hard.

"I'm aaaaaaaall grown up"

So can I go back to being a kid? Cuz that would be awesome. At this point in my life I can't decide if I hate my job or I just hate working. I can't say I hate working in general because I've had jobs I didn't really consider jobs because it was fun. Stressful and intense, but fun.

I read a super sad story yesterday and it has dumped me into a rather bleak out look on life. I think that all sad books should have a massive stamp on the front that says "Tragedy." Then I could know which books to avoid.

Museum of childhood horrors

I had a flash back to one of the stupidest things I did as a child. It was not a memory I particularly wanted to think about. I might have been four, maybe five, when I it happened. I pressed my hands into the rough wooden fence and slid my hands about a foot, that was when I pulled my hands away because they hurt.

Yeah. I was not the most intelligent child. I remember running home crying. My father plopped me down into a chair and attacked my hands with tweezers and a pocket knife. It took over two hours to get most of the splinters out. Two hours of sitting in a chair while my father dug into my hands with sharp objects. He spent the entire time lecturing me. It went something like this:

Daddy: "What were you thinking?"
Me: "I don't know."
Daddy: "Well, why did you do it?"
Me: "I don't know."
Daddy: "Didn't you realize it would hurt?"
Me: "Yes."
Daddy: "Then why did you do it?"
Me: "I don't know."
Daddy: "Did you want to get hurt?"
Me: "No."
Daddy: "Then why did you do it?"
Me: "I don't know."
Daddy: "Did you think it wouldn't give you splinters?"
Me: "No."
Daddy: "Then why did you do that?"
Me: "I don't know."

Brain damage! (shout out to Bill Cosby. I love him.)

Thinking back on it I am still not sure why I did it. I vaguely remember thinking it wouldn't hurt that badly and that I was tough so it wouldn't matter. Like I said, I was not the most intelligent child. It took me years to be able to walk past a wooden fence without wanting to cry. I still don't like to handle wooden objects, especially wooden cooking spoons (they really freak me out).

Why I hate ordering online

I caved and bought the entirety of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I was rather excited because it got here today. Seasons 5, 6 and 7 had shattered cases. I am pissed. Mostly because I ordered off of Amazon and that means I am going to have to package up the stupid set and send it back. I really do hate doing that. It makes me angry.

On a rather funny and extremely wrong note, I have just recently found out that POW/MIA stands for Prisoners of War and Missing in Action. Yes. I cannot believe that it has taken me this long to realize that. What's worse is that I used to think the flag was for an African American rights activist group. True story. I am sure you would like to know how on earth I came to that conclusion.

I have a friend who is an activist. She bounces from one group to another trying to make the world a better place. She is pretty freaking awesome. Well she had a POW/MIA flag on her wall and she told me it was in support of her black friend. I had no idea at the time that her friend was in the military, I do not think he was ever MIA and I know he wasn't a POW, but she wanted to support her friends in the military.

Well, idiot that I am, I assumed it was just another activist group she was apart of. It was a little odd because she didn't give me the activist speech which normally came along with announcements for the latest, greatest cause for human rights.

And that is why I thought the POW/MIA flag was the symbol for African American rights. Sad really.

I felt like a complete idiot when I put the pieces together. Unfortunately it took me a few years. May all the people who are in the military, who have served in the military and who are related to people in the military forgive me for being a complete moron.

Never forgotten; but occasionally confused.

yawn ... blink ... crash.

I did not think that the drive could get any more boring. But it did. The slightly rolling hills that fade into the distance and blur together in their brown grayishness are even more boring at night. I left home early so I could get back to school before the storm. Over 24 hours later I am 96 miles away from my destination and sitting in a hotel bed.

Instead of driving all the way (about 670 miles) I decided to crash at a friends house. Which was awesome, we watched "Easy A" (great movie) crashed and got up the next morning to leave. Unfortunately (doesn't this always happen) the snow had caught up to me and I got to spend all day driving in snow ... with semi trucks flying past me.

This trip started off horribly when I found that half the buttons don't work on the face plate of my radio any more ... they worked two weeks ago when I came home and no longer do now. I was not too worried about that because I have a remote for the radio (Yes a remote for my radio in my car ... I know it's lazy) but the remote does not have a button to switch to auxiliary so I can't listen to my MP3 player. Meaning I spent yesterday night and today listening to the radio. The only channels I could get are country, Christian and scary rock.

Today started off with a bang when I tried stopping for a light and ended up on the wrong side of the road in the street adjacent to were I started (or tried to stop). It was terrifying. And the trip only went down hill from there.

Remember those semi trucks I was talking about? Well the lovely state I am driving through does not understand the concept of plowing both lanes and the right lane was slick today (add that with some wind and my poor little car can't really go faster than 40, if that) forcing most cars to drive slow. But not the semi trucks. Nooo they get to go flying down the road really fast. And in the wake of a semi truck comes lots and lots and lots of puffy snow. White out. For about 500 feet. Ish.

While driving through a semi truck white out is disgruntling I did not think it was a big problem. And it wouldn't have been if the stupid semi had not tried to stop on the middle of the freaking highway. Bitch.

Imagine driving on an icy highway with a slight breeze. The world glistens with barely restrained evil. A truck of doom goes flying past and paints the whole world in flurries of white. And them Bam. The truck is swerving in front of you and when you pull off the road to avoid becoming truck kill a tow truck pops out of no where. With great reflexes you manage to avoid getting squashed or hitting the new obstacle, only to have the big white dodge truck behind you not be able to stop in time. It has been a ruff day.

After the fender bender accident the roads got nastier and nastier and I drove like a little chicken shit. For the last hour of the trip I was going less than 20 mph and riding the rumble strips to make sure I was still on the highway. The inside of the car was burning up because I was attempting to keep ice from building up on my windshield (it did not work). Just before stopping for the night it got so bad that I was trying to knock the ice off my windshield whippers with my hand, not an easy task while driving in a blizzard.

My car is now stuck in the parking lot of the hotel and I don't know if I will be able to get it out tomorrow. I did not pack an over night bag and I was so not going to haul in my big suitcase so I repacked a small bag in the parking lot ... getting snow all over everything. When grabbing my coat it slipped out of my hand and fell on the ground, getting covered in snow.

I finally got settled into my hotel room and into pajamas when I realized I had left my cell phone charger in the car. Since my phone was in the process of dying I had to get redressed (putting on wet canvas shoes is gross) and tromp back out through a foot of snow. The second time trying to put on my pajamas I face planted and gave myself some nasty carpet burn.

Over all what started as an annoying but necessary task has ended up as a horrible predicament. At least I have free Wi-fi and coffee.

And tomorrow comes the last 96.

loud noises are evil

When I was younger I used to be a morning person, when I hit middle school I became a night owl, in high school I was forced to be a morning person (I had a 6:30 a.m. Calculus class, it was evil). Now that I am in college (almost done! Only a year left) I have become something of an enigma with my sleeping patterns. It's pretty random. Once I am awake I am awake, it doesn't matter what time of day it is, it just depends on how much sleep I have had previously, when I get to go to bed again, and most importantly how I was woken up.

I hate loud noises. I hate vacuums. I hate alarms. I hate anything that disrupts my concentration. I hate being woken up by a chain saw at 7:30 a.m.

There should be a law that doesn't allow people to use loud machinery before 10 in the morning. It was even worse because they would stop for five minutes and I would think they were going to be done. After being lulled in to a false sense of quite I would be rudely awoken by the noises again. This happened several times, I wanted to chuck a grenade out my window so the loud noises would stop.

To top it off I spilled creamer all over my desk, the desk that I had just cleaned. Grrr. After going to work I found out that the windows are being replaced, and they were using machines to cut the wood out... today was just not fun. I hate loud noises. I know I should be thankful I can hear, but it would be really nice to have real selective hearing.

Crazy drivers

I had thought that my various trips to California had shown me the craziest drivers in the world. I was wrong. I was driving around town a few days ago and I pull up to a stop light where the car in front of me is in both lanes. It was a two lane road and the dude was just chilling in the middle. I didn't know what to do so I stopped a normal length behind him. The next car that pulled up (I was in the left lane they were in the right lane) and forced his way up next to the crazy middle of the lane driver. By doing this they blocked the right turning lane. I hate people who do that.

I also hate left lane cruisers. I want to carry a rocket launcher in my car on long road trips so I can blow up the left lane cruisers. Especially the ones that are going ten miles UNDER the speed limit. Seriously, they need to stop.

Yes I am going to pass you pull in front of you and then slow waaaaaaay down. Cuz I am awesome! I HATE drivers like that. Omg I want to kill them too.

I just want to forcibly move any driver that is keeping me from reaching my destination in a reasonable time (meaning significantly faster than should be possible).

And people who don't use their blinkers. Why do we have blinkers if you aren't going to use them? "I'll Kill you!"

I don't particularly like people who cut me off... But if they use their blinker I don't get mad. However if they don't use their blinker I want to ram the back of their car.

Wrong side of the cirle bed

Today is one of those days when both sides of the bed are wrong. No matter which side you get out of it will be a bad day. It all started so innocently last night when I got to bed an hour after I had planned, it was still before midnight though. I thought everything was going to be fine since I had gone to bed early enough to still get a good nights sleep. I would have, but there was this freaking bug outside my window that would buzz. It was sooo annoying. I wanted to through a grenade outside my window to get the freaking thing to shut up.

Not enough hours later my alarm goes off. It's shrill beep jolted me out of the slightly disturbing dream I was having. So I stumble around my room half awake, still partially dreaming getting ready for the day. I woke up early because I needed to finish an article for work that I was supposed to do yesterday... yeah it still isn't done, but more on that later. Then I realize my boss doesn't get in until this afternoon, he is volunteering at an event all week. I could have slept in.

I start my coffee, which is totally needed since I drug my sorry ass out of bed before eight a.m.. The coffee permeates my room with it's tantalizing promise... it smelled sooo good. I picked up my sugar jar, that is another story, and shook it, because in summer nothing escapes the wrath of humidity. Nothing! Not even Tupperware. It is that bad here. I had to shake up the sugar so I could get it out of the jar. I hadn't screwed the lid on tight. Sugar went all over my floor... all over. It is still there since I was in a hurry to get to work.

My coffee decided to leap out of my cup and all down my chest too. It was like "abandon ship!" and dripped all over the place. Even more angry. I am awake, I don't need to be, my bare feet are sugar encrusted and my chest is dripping coffee. At this point I should have just said "fuck it" and gone back to sleep. But no. I have to be all responsible and go to work. Grr.

The Evil Alarm Clock of Doom then decided to show me that I was ten minutes late for my already pushed back work arrival time. Then it started raining. Not one of those pestilent sore rains that just sort of oozes out of the sky. No it was one of those the sky has gone bulimic and is hurling its guts out like a fire hydrant about to explode. In about thirty seconds it had gone from sunny to Niagara falls. coincidentally enough I had left my umbrella in my car, not in my room. I had figured that it was unlikely to rain.

I hate it when I am wrong. A dear friend ended up lending me her umbrella so I could go get mine from the car. When I had managed to tromp down the stairs and get out to my car the rain had stopped. I needed to return the borrowed umbrella to my friend so I stumbled back up the stairs. After throwing my stuff together I headed off to work. I was the first one to arrive so I had to have an adventure in my purse to find the key. By the time I had gotten to work I was well past my attempted arrival time.

I was super excited because I could finally get started on that article I needed to finish. But no. The server was down. As in like, the thing that all of my files are saved to is not working. All of my FILES! I couldn't get to them. At this point I was alternating between bursting into tears or screaming flames.

I didn't know what to do. My boss was gone for the morning. No one else was in the office and it looked like no one was going to be in soon. The one day I show up early I can't work. I hate my life.

Phone tag is never a fun thing. I don't even know how many people I ended up calling to get a hold of the people I needed. It took me over half an hour to find someone who could help me.

Finally I think that I can sit down and finish the freaking article. Leaning back into my chair I pick up my coffee and sip. It as cold. In all the time I had been running around trying to figure out how to work my coffee had gotten cold.

It was a very bitter sweet moment. My cooooooffeeeeeeeee! *sniff*