Let me take this opportunity to tell you all how Cingular is screwing me over, yet again. I hate them so much.
They are charging me a fee to be on my current network. My contract expires at the end of October, but they will not let me out of my contract unless I "upgrade" and, of course, sign on with them for more time. So, basically, I am stuck paying them $10 because I cannot leave them until the end of October. I hate them so much.
Why not upgrade? Well, because I hate Cingular. Actually, as I will tell them in a letter once my number is safely transferred to another company and all accounts are paid in full, hate does not quite get at the level of LOATHING and DISDAIN I feel for this company. Here's why: They say their network is more reliable, which is complete bullshit. Everyone I know who has fallen for this spiel (or been coherced into falling for it, as in the case of my dear friend Mel) and "upgraded" to their GSM network has just as many problems as I have. If not more, given the crazy voicemail nightmare that some of my friends have.
And, Cingular's favorite line of all time? "Well, that's a problem with your phone, so we're not responsible." Not EVERYTHING is a problem with the phone. Some things are problems with your bogus bullshit network, Cingular.
My favorite commercial right now is the Verizon commercial where the guy is standing there with two other real employees and a bunch of cardboard cutouts claiming that they're just like Verizon and then when the customer knocks over all the cutouts, the guy says, "That is a problem and we are working on it." That's Cingular's other favorite line. And when I told them that I was not interested at all in continuing with the company and that I either wanted out of my contract or I wanted the fee waived, they told me that that was not possible. Now, AT&T, which was the best company ever, and I curse them daily for getting out of residential, would have offered me a ridiculous amount of free promotional minutes at this point in the conversation. And it's not like I'd take them because I would rather eat my own feet than stay with Cingular at this point, but at least they would have offered. Cingular doesn't even care. They don't care at all. They're like, "Psshhh, go ahead an leave then."
I can tell you one thing: The day I pay more money for fewer minutes, less coverage, and the same quality reception will be a cold day in hell.
As always, this is just one way that Cingular is raising the bar while I have to assume the position. Their bullshit fee is the absolute last straw. Verizon or Team Mobile or Sprint, here I come.
If any of you all are considering Cingular, I suggest that you reconsider, unless of course you like taking it up the ass, in which case, proceed to the Cingular store nearest you.
Both suck. And I have had both.
The car is running, which is the good news. It was expensive, but it's running, and it still is costing me less than a car payment would, so I am putting off buying a new car until such a time as the repairs are costing more than a car payment. (Plus, it's tied up as collateral in a loan for the class that I hate in spite of the fact that I'm doing well in it.)
I have caught the cold of doom. Doom I tell you! On the plus side, this means that my annual viewing of the Lord of the Rings extended version DVDs was accomplished in a weekend instead of two weeks. On the negative side, it means that people have begun to wonder what has happened to me as I have been unable to chill with the homies for quite some time now. Also, I am way behind on all needful things, including homework, writing, work, and housework. On the other hand (which gives me three for those of you who are counting), I don't care.
I went to bed at like 8 last night, which was marred by the fact that I had crazy Nyquil dreams of the scarey variety. Which I will not talk about.
On the whole, I pretty much want to go home and sleep some more, and I probably will because try as I might, I just don't care about the consequences. And that is all I know for now. Peace out, peeps.
I am frustrated.
I am trying to find information on aesthetics. This is because I, in my infinite genius, decided that this would be a great topic. Why did I think this? "Well," said I, "what a great way to get credit for, basically, improving my blog."
This was a stupid mo-fo idea. Here's why: While I can say what makes my blog ugly (and thus, vaguely pleasing to me), I am hard pressed to say what makes other blogs look good. In addition, I don't know if you've any idea, but aesthetics are incredibly broad, vague, and subjective (yes, I am aware that that is only one theory, but it's the one I'm going with).
In addition, as it turns out, I do want to be a teacher, but I also want to be a writer. (Probably I want to be that extremely impoverished breed of person known as a writing teacher when I grow up.) Not a technical writer. A writer. And I just got out of a departmental meeting where everybody laughed about how useless an MFA in writing is.
Everything I like is expensive and useless. Because an MFA is pretty much exactly what I want to get.
In addition, I am sick of school. I don't want to go do anything other than get credit for writing. I don't know why I try to kid myself into thinking that I'm a practical person. I think I've got it in my head that I want the 'rents to be proud of me. It was better when I didn't care about that because then I could do what I wanted. And I don't know why I feel like it's my fault they're not going to be ready for retirement. I don't know why I think it's my responsibility to take care of them. The middle child over-acheiver can do that. She'll have buckets of money. I'll live by them and drive them places. The youngest will probably live with them and eat their cereal.
This is what I know. I am confused. Just as confused as I was when I was 19, only now it isn't cute any more. Now I am a grown woman with no clue of what she wants to do.
I wish that I was practical. I wish that I liked building space shuttles. That would be quite lucrative. Sadly, I like using them as examples in a rant. This means that, while I like them, all I'm capable of is spelling them.
On a high point, two people who I consider very difficult to impress are finally (and it only took three and a half years) impressed with me at work. I.e., they say that their students get better when they work with me, specifically. And I like it. In addition, the piece of writing that I cranked out on Sunday afternoon this week was a hit at writing group. The other piece was still complete crap. But at least I knew that going in.
That's all I've got, kids. If anybody has good suggestions for reading material on aesthetics, let me know.
Well, kids, you may remember that awhile ago, I asked several burning questions regarding grad school. I have since discovered the answers to those questions.
1) Will there be parking? Yes, and while it is not clearly marked, it is pretty much right in front of the building. They confused me by saying it was in back of the building, but that's because the school shares the building. This is a satellite location. I go early and sit in the classroom for awhile, but that's OK. I have lots to do.
2) Will I look dumb? Probably, but that is nothing new. And, to be frank, I never cared before, and I am probably not going to in another week or two now, either. I will say that everybody there, minus three people including myself, were dressed in dress clothes for work. We have all but one since changed our tunes. Tonight, though, I will be wearing blue jeans. Because I can.
3) Do grad students use backpacks? Because I bought one and took the tags off already. Yes, but only the boys in my class have them besides me. I don't care. It doesn't hurt my back, and I like that.
4) Will I get a good grade? Yes. I did, in fact, get an A on my first assignment. In addition, I was told that it was very well-written. And there was much rejoicing. Yay!
5) Will I (please, God) be able to find the room/building? Yes. There were people on every floor stationed at every door into the campus and at every stairwell. They were eager to answer questions, even if they didn't always know the answer (i.e., the parking conversation).
On the whole, I am not sure I am in the right program. I really have always wanted to get an MFA. I keep trying to pretend that I can be content with something else, but I don't think that's true. I really want to get an MFA in writing. As I have said a lot lately, "Why is everything I want expensive and useless?" Ah, well. I'm just trying it out. If I don't like it, I can always quit. I don't actually "belong" to anybody's program, yet. Also, the people are not very talkative, and that always makes it awkward for me. If I'm with quiet people, I start trying to fill the empty space with something. Then I wind up babbling and saying things I don't mean. So far, I have avoided this, but mostly because they stare at me like I'm insane every time I open my mouth.
Every year I tell myself that it's going to be better. Every year it is a little bit better and a little bit harder in different ways.
At any rate, on Friday (9-8), it'll have been nine years since my best friend from high school passed away (suicide). I know it's ridiculous, but I still miss her. However old I might be, there's still a part of me that is 17 and ready to have a great senior year of high school. And while I may have made up my mind that this year's particular addiction is going to be work and school and not, oh, I don't know, 99 Bananas, like it may or may not have been last year, it's still hard to get through these next couple of weeks. I think Grandpa's passing has taken the edge off of Amy's, too. I think part of me was afraid that I would never be able to live through another death of someone close to me, but every day, I do get through it. So as I see it's not as hard, it gets easier to deal with Amy's death, too. On the other hand, sometimes it hurts twice as badly.
It doesn't make any logical sense, and to tell the truth, I'm feeling more and more embarrassed about it these days, but what can you do. It is what it is. Amy's death changed me and scarred me. But flowers can grow, even in ashes, and I guess I'm growing. It always hurts, but it hurts... differently. It's just... not as sharp. It hurts less often. It's not so raw everytime someone touches near that spot in my heart that is always going to be 17. As time goes by, you get so you can laugh about who the person was. I look forward to the day that I can talk about my grandpa in that way again.
Every year at this time, I take stock. I decide who/what I want to be in light of what I've learned over the last year. I spend a lot of time crying and a lot of time alone thinking. I spend a lot of time avoiding thinking. I think I am starting to learn what it means to forgive. I say starting because I know this will take years, but I'm learning how to forgive myself. I'm learning how to forgive the people I hold responsible. I'm learning that wishing them ill only scars me more.
I miss her and Grandpa both deeply. I hope to see them both again someday.
Well, in an exciting first this weekend, I was stung by a bee for the first time. Ever. I think. I may or may not have been stung once a long time ago while out on the tracter, but we were never really sure, and it did not hurt like this S.O.B.
We were building a patio for my parents, and I was totally minding my own business when all of a sudden, I felt a pinch on my leg and saw a bee struggling to take off. You know because his stinger was imbedded in my leg at this point.
To my credit, I did not cry like my sister did when she got stung just a few minutes prior to this exciting and fun new first in my life. Mine looks a lot worse than hers does though because apparently I refused to let anyone put any Solarcane on it. I do not remember this. I guess I told everybody that I had put aspirin on it and ice and did not need anything else. I remember the aspirin and the ice. I do not remember the rest. I think aspirin worked pretty much, but I think I should have also done Solarcane because I have a red spot, but my sister has just a little sting mark.
I would like to take this opportunity to quote Dane Cook: "F Bees, man. I would punch every bee in the face."
Without further ado, the book list:
All I read this month was one series by Dawn Cook. The titles of the four books were as follows:
First Truth
Hidden Truth
Forgotten Truth
Lost Truth
This was extremely light and fluffy reading, and I enjoyed it a great deal. The series is about a girl who has the "gift" of magic, for better or for worse. She starts out believing she is a "Keeper," and winds up at the Hold trying to undo an evil Keeper who's pretty much emptied the Hold and taken up residence in the tower like all bad guys should. The series follows her through several adventures, and I enjoyed it a lot. The last book makes me believe that if there are not more yet, there probably will be. I recommend them if you're into fluffy fantasy. Otherwise, continue sipping your espresso and pick up On the Road. I didn't read it this month, but I read it last summer, and it was quite literary (and good). I personally needed some fluffy reading this month, and this completely fit the bill. Enjoy! Feel free to share your own reads in the comments.