mighty_aphrodite: (Default)
 I had no problem with them for my wedding.  No problems with picking out my bridesmaid dress.  No problems at my alteration appointment.  Up until today, I rather liked the company.  Then, I got a voice mail, that went something like this:

"Hello, Angela.  This is so-and-so from David's Bridal alterations department.  We have your dress here, which you came in to have altered on February 19 and to be picked up on March 13 at 4 pm, but we don't have the ticket that shows you paid."  

[item: it is their policy that alterations have to be paid for in advance.  They are very politely accusing me of skipping out on the bill.]

"If you paid, we need the transaction number from the top of your receipt, or if you did not pay, we will need you to call back and let us know so we can mark your dress "payment due" before we will begin altering your dress. Thank you, have a nice day."
What.  The.  Fuck.  They are basically holding my $200 dress ransom unless I can prove they messed up.  This is especially stressful as I have lost the receipt, but I check my online banking and I do know the payment went through, so I have that to fall back on.

I was livid.  But, trying to remain calm, I called them to get it straightened out.  Alterations did not answer, not surprisingly, so I called the main number.  I explained the situation to the nice girl who answered, who then asked me to "hold on a minute."  

Three minutes! later a guy with a thick accent answers, whom I take to be the manager.  I guess it's no longer the thing to let someone know they are being transfered? I can barely understand him, and I take it he can't understand me either, as he asks me the same questions several times, all of which he should have been able to look up himself, and several minutes of absolute silence pass before he finds the transaction and tells me he will reprint the receipt and give alterations a copy.  

I politely remarked before thanking him and hanging up that this could very easily have been handled without calling me and making me worry.  He insisted that he had no way of knowing what time I came in, blah blah blah.  I let him know otherwise.  

This is what appointment books and alterations tickets are for.  The alterations ticket has my name and appointment time on it, as well as the price of the alterations.  All they had to do was look in their transactions for an approximate $45 transaction on February 19 around 3 pm with my name attached to it.

Which is exactly what they did, after I called and requested that I do it. But I shouldn't have HAD to. I guess it's just easier to insinuate that the customer is a thief than to admit that you may have made an error.

TL;DR: Basically, whoever rung me up (After the alterations person had escorted me to the register and handed my bill to the cashier, no less) did not give a copy of the receipt to the seamstress as she should have, making alterations think I didn't p.  And instead of looking up the transaction, which they have al the information necessary to do, they decided it was up to ME to figure it all out for them.  At no point are they willing to admit that THEY screwed up.  

ETA: Be sure to check out the parallel post in bad_service, in which I have more people jumping on me and ramming things down my throat than Paris Hilton at a rave party.  Charming people really.  Not only do their reading comprehension skills fail, but when they ran out of arguments as to why this OMG ISN'T BAD SERVICE, they started attacking (with poor grammar, I might add) my writing style and resorting to childish name-calling.  So far I've been called a bridezilla (lol, whut?  not my wedding.), a bitch, an entitleed bitch, various other varietals of bitch... I turned off e-mail notification.  Oh, and I have my own snark community post where they say even more lovely things.    Note that I never once resorted to name-calling.  But I'm the bitch for expecting a company providing a paid-for service to keep accurate records about said service.

ETA2: Now I have been likened to a dog.  Pavlov's to be precise.
mighty_aphrodite: (politics>W>liberal brain hurt)
I just had to specifically articulate a no-politics rule... on my friggin' [livejournal.com profile] doodlemutts community of all things. FFS, is nothing sacred? I don't give a fuck if Biden has a goldendoodle. That would make it the only thing we have in common...

Anyway, I issued a warning, deleted the post, and made a mod post stating the new rule. Wonder how long it will take before the member gets all angsty about me stifling her dissenting voice...

I just want one place in my flist that is drama-free, FFS.


And now I had to ban someone for making a snarky political comment TO ME THE MOD in a MOD POST about political comments not being tolerated. *waves to [livejournal.com profile] petulant*
mighty_aphrodite: (hippie)
I've had enough. This journal is, regrettably, going friends only, and I am conducting a major friends purge. Something about a friend of a friend coming to my journal and being an asshole... Apparently I'm not allowed to swear and rant in my own damn journal now? Anyway, if you don't want to be cut, plead your case here in the next 24 hours.
mighty_aphrodite: (umberto the unborn)

This is utterly unconscionable. Just... no. And yet there are people in this world so morally bereft as to think this is okay.
mighty_aphrodite: (Joker *headdesk*)
Either I am having one hell of an allergy attack, or I have a sinus infection. I've been sinusy since Saturday (that sounds like a bad movie title) with occasional headache, frequent cough and abundant post-nasal drip. However, there's absolutely NO POINT in going to the health service until Monday, because they won't give you anything for a sinus infection unless you've been sick for a week or more. You go any sooner and they tell you it's a viral infection that will run its course. Bastards. I think I know a bit about sinus infections, having had them chronicly since the age of 8, and I know that while the initial cause of a sinus infection is a virus that inflames the sinus passages, the SYMPTOMS of the sinus infection (headache, pressure, etc.) are caused be a secondary bacterial infection due to the inability of the sinuses to drain off the bacteria. But what do I know, right? *sniffle*
mighty_aphrodite: (Default)
I commented in a metaquotes post that I find it strange and wrong to see nurses in large groups smoking outside the hospital every time I visit.

And some moron responds with a bullshit answer about how nursing is a stressful profession. LOL, WHUT?

You know what's REALLY stressful???

ASTHMA (I ought to know).

How does ANYONE in this day and age, much less a HEALTHCARE PROFESSIONAL, think it is a bright idea to purposely inhale carcinogens??

PEOPLE ARE STUPID. There is no hope for humanity.
mighty_aphrodite: (Mine!)
Anyone in the Twin Cities, avoid the PetSmart Grooming Salon at the Quarry like the plague.

So I took my dogs in to the groomer today at 1pm.

Insert epic groomer fail here )

TL;DR: Groomer takes almost twice as long as usual, has a poor attitude about it, cuts my dog, lies about the severity of the wound, and charges me anyway.
mighty_aphrodite: (Default)
Background: For the summer, I'm working at an outdoor music venue. Normally my job is to sell drinks to the hoity-toity patrons of said establishment, but today, I was in charge of tables: wiping tablecloths, keeping the proper number of chairs to a table, that kind of thing. Basically you work your ass off for an hour taking down chairs and putting on tablecloths, then sit around most of the rest of the day because either no one is there (hence no messes) or it's busy and every table is constantly occupied (we try not to disturb the patrons).

Thus, I am bored out of my skull and searching for things to do. Normally I don't wipe occupied tables, but I saw a big glob of sundae syrup on one, so I went up to the table with a smile and asked if they minded me interrupting them for a minute to wipe it up. They say sure, I do, and then rich old music snob lady turns to me, smiles patronizingly and says...

"Good girl."

WTF, lady? I am not your lap poodle. Should I lap up the mess with my tongue next time? Would that earn me a pat on the head? Or maybe scritch behind the ears?

Seriously, my gut reaction was to respond with a "woof" and panting noises.

x-posted to personal journal
mighty_aphrodite: (Default)
Dear Editor:

Bicyclists on the Washington Avenue bridge would do well to start actually using the bike path. Quite often as I cross the bridge to class twice a week, bicyclists can be seen pedaling down the south lane of the bridge which is clearly marked “No bikes this side of bridge” with a nifty arrow pointing to the bike lane. Somewhat less frequently, I see people biking inside the covered walkway. This evening, however, took the cake when I witnessed not one or two, but an organized group of at least 20-30 people deliberately bike down the wrong side of the bridge, two and three abreast. I can only assume this was some kind of bicycling club. Wow, guys, way to promote bicycling by purposely (and without helmets, I might add) breaking the rules put in place for everyone’s safety. Personally, I would rather not have my brains dashed all over the pavement by a collision with a speeding bicycle, nor do I particularly wish to get yours all over my new shoes. Do everyone a favor. Wear a helmet, and use the bike path. Or at the very least do humanity a favor and check the organ donor box on your license application.

[livejournal.com profile] cybele24

University Graduate Student


Okay maybe that last bit was a little wrong of me. After all, if they aren't wearing helmets, their brains will probably get smashed and their organs won't last long enough to be harvested and transplanted. Unless they should hit the back of their heads just right on one of the railings...
mighty_aphrodite: (killing spree)
The saga begins... )
But I gues one good thing came out of this: I was supposed to make up an exam today, but I got it rescheduled for Monday so I could sit home in the gloom and wait for the electrician.
mighty_aphrodite: (dark/twisty)

Me?  My family?  We are done.  I've had enough.

I called my dad today to give him the news about my mother in law, and that I may be leaving grad school to come back to Iowa.  HIs response: "No you're not."  Excuse me??  I go on to explain that the hubby and I have dependents to take care of now and that these things take priority over my virtually useless degree.  "You're killing me."  WTF.  Clearly, my father has done too many drugs.  I politely end the conversation. 

About half an hour ago, my sister calls me.  The conversation goes like this:

Sister: Hey, Dad called me.  He said Mary died today.
Me: Yeah, this morning.
Sister:  And now you're going to leave grad school and come back to Burlington?
Me:  Well, it's a definite possibility...
Sister:  Because that would be really dumb.  What the hell are you going to do in Burlington?  It's not like--
Me:  Hey, Becky?  My mother in law just DIED and I have other people to think about.  It really is not your place to tell me what to do about it.
Sister:  Well, you shouldn't have called Dad and told him that!  He's having a PANIC ATTACK--
Me: So let me get this straight-- My mother in law dies, and it's all about you?  I am ending this conversation *presses end button*

WHAT THE HELL was that?  I am so tired of this.  Tired of my family being selfish and expecting me to do the same.  Every time it's come down to a choice of what they think I should do and what's best for my marriage, I've chosen my marriage and they've criticised me for it.  They have NEVER been supportive of my field of study, NEVER been supportive of my husband or my marriage.   I'm tired of it.   How can they NOT understand that I am trying to do what's best for my own family?  How does this even effect them that they should care?  It certainly isn't that they care about me and don't want me to give up on my career.  No, that would make sense.    They've ruined their own lives and want to live through me. They need me to succeed so that they can feel like they did a good job as parents.  If I'm a big success, then that excuses everything they've done, because, hey, I still turned out alright, right?   They want absolution, and  I'm not going to give that to them.  Whatever success I have had in my life has NOTHING to do with them except the fact that I've dont it by working my ass off to try to get myself out of the white trash life I was born into and raised in.

I'm done.  I'm not talking to my parents or sister anymore or ever again.  I deserve better than this.  Mary was a better parent to me in the five or so years I knew her than my own ever were.  She took care of her body, she ate right, she never did drugs.  She was one of the kindest, mos cheerful people I have ever known.   She always put others before herself.  And now she's gone.  And my pathetic excuses for parents are still alive and kicking.  People wonder why I've had such a problem with faith my whole life, why I don't really believe in anything.  Now you know.

mighty_aphrodite: (Default)

The hubby has flown last-minute to Nevada for the weekend, leaving me at home, alone, with his 12-year-old brother.


I have to teach Tuesday morning at 11.  Sometime before that I have to copy 108 4-page syllabi... and our copier is possessed.  Everytime I try to copy it, all four areas of the machine jam.  Therefore I shall have to come in at the ass crack of 8 AM on Tuesday to copy them in the office copy room (which I can get into, but where my password doesn't work) in order to copy them amidst everyone else last-minutedly trying to do the same thing.  And our office staff are going on strike Wednesday.  

Welcome back, to me.
mighty_aphrodite: (Default)
I hate people.

I hate my life.

I hate... everything.
mighty_aphrodite: (snape levicorpus)
Hi. Returning to the world of C_S, working temp for an outdoor music festival. I alreadu have a list of peeves, but LJ sucks and keeps eating my posts, so I'll cut to the big one.

I spent 2 days in the hot sun helping set up for this thing. I am very proud of houw it looked. So I get there this morning, already pissed becasue I had to be there at 7 AM, and knowing I would be making nothing in tips on a morning shift with kiddie activities (mostly I work beverage service where we sell beer, wine, water, and pop. We ended up making $103 in sales and $6.75 in tipd which we had to split 7 ways). But then I walk onto the plaza and find... chaos. Chairs everywhere, bums sleeping wrapped in our tablecovers (no lie), tables drug down onto the steps going down to the pond, garbage stuffed in the umbrella holes. But THIS was the worst...

Apparently it poured last night, and people STOLE OUR TABLECLOTHS TO COVER UP WITH AS THEY RAN TO THEIR CARS. NOt only the cheapie plastic ones, which we are trying to reuse and keep as nice as possible. We expected that. But our $35 apiece Minnemeko table covers. And the off-duty cops doing security? Did nothing to stop it. Our events manager estimates that between theft and vandalism, it cost us $1600.

And another quickie:
I can't sell two alchoholic beverages to one person, no matter how old they are. For all I know, the 80-year old guy could have an 18-year old money-grubbing wife. But, since we aren't busy, we offer to sell you the beer, walk with you to your table and card the other party to save you a trip. So when I walk all the way across the plaza, up and down steps, deftly dodging running children and slipping between clusters of red hat ladies, and arrive at your table smiling without spilling a drop, the polite thing to do would be to tip me, or at the very least say thank you, instead of acting like I am in some way inconveniencing you by bending the rules and providing table service when I could be twiddling my thumbs and eating cream puffs in my gazebo.

To the gentleman who thought it was hilarious to card old fogies like himself and tipped me a dollar for carding his wife (which he conspiratorially instructed me to do as we walked to the table), thank you! I may have made your wife's day, but you made mine!
mighty_aphrodite: (justin chambers)
I lost my boobies. I don't know where they went. All my bras are too big so I got measured yesterday at Victoria's Secret. In the past year I went from a 36C to a 32B. Boo. And there was very little in my new size in the sale bins. I am a little bummed. Apparently I have misplaced my hips too because the size 6 skirt I bought yesterday is too big and I have to take it back and get a 4.

Yes, I am a skinny bitch an you hate me. Yes I realize I am bitching about losing weight. But half of my clothes don't fit because I've lost my sexy curviness and I'm grumpy. And I hate lingerie shopping, but I have to because my boobs shrunk and my dog ate half my underwear. /me pouts.
mighty_aphrodite: (tequila)

Can't sleep.  I have no internet access right now, so I'm typing this on notepad at 12:39 in the morning, and planning on back-posting it when next I hit a wireless spot.  My brain won't shut up.  It keeps thinking about GRAD SCHOOL and GRADES and the SHIT that is about to HIT THE FAN with my ADVISOR (the all-caps are my brain's, not mine).  I got a C+ in my Catullus class.   Which means that, unless I get an A in the Greek class (doubtful), I'm not going to make gpa (3.25), for the second semester in a row.  I'm trying to think of how I'm going to talk my way out of this.  I can't very well go to the director of grad studies, who is also my advisor, and my Greek prof. and tell him I'm bombing because: a) my Latin prof grades like an idiot and 2) he, my Greek prof assigns too damn much reading.  Nevermind that every other student in the class agrees with me that his expectations are insane and unrealistic.  Nevermind that all his classes are always like this and no number of student comments on his evaluations have apparentlly affected his approach.  Methinks there is a reason he doesn't get to teach Greek very often. 


So what am I going to tell him?  I mean, there is just SO MUCH SHIT I'm supposed to do, and I can't possibly do it all.  Especially when it all piles up at the same time.  Take these past two weeks: 4 papers, 2 exams, 2 quizzes, half a million lines of reading plus papers to grade for my class.  I can't do it all.  And it seems that I end up doing one of three things, none of which are successful.

            1.  Concentrate on one thing I think is really important (such as a big paper) and ignore the rest for the moment.
                 Result: quiz over the material I didn't read while I was busy writing the paper or something similar.

            2.  Try to do everything.  
                 Result: everything is done half-assed and it looks like I'm an idiot.

            3.  Get so overwhelmed that I never get around to doing anything becasue I'm so busy trying to figure out what to do first.  
                 Result: self explanatory.


Obviously, I'm not academically or emotionally prepared for this.  I love the people at Iowa, but let's face it, it's not a top ten program or anything.  I did it in two years and didn't come out very well read.  I have huge gaps in my education that I don't have time to fill.  But then, I guess I'll have all the time in the world when I get booted out.


I have so much going on in my life these past few months that it's just driven me to distraction.  I mean, you try feeding and sheltering two people and a dog on 600 a month after your financial aid money runs out and see how your mental state is.  Try living with the fact that you dragged your husband to Minnesota, far from family, friends, and any kind of professional opportunity in order to pursue an academic career that you're now flunking out of, pretty much single-handedly screwing over both of your careers.  Then try to sleep at night.  Hell, just try to get through the day in one piece.


I'm totally fucked up.  And honestly?  I've lost enthusiasm for.. everything.  I don't want to do anything.  This degree I wanted to pursue?  The work is just a chore. I don't even want to try to keep up. It doesn't seem worth it.  I don't want to clean.  Don't want to cook.  Don't want to teach.  DOn't want to do my laundry.  I don't want to do anything but veg in front of a computer/tv screen all day and/or sleep.  Nothing is appealing.  Hell, I hardly eat.  I've been dehydrated for days because I don't care enough to get up and get a glass of water.  For some reason I'd rather just pee every ten minutes once a UTI sets in. 


I'll be totally honest:  I've not been taking care of myself for awhile now.  It's just this viscious cycle of apathy.  Apathy breeds poor physical/mental health which only breeds more apathy.  I've somehow gotten through my first full year in grad school.  Not sure just how I pulled that off.  Am I still in one piece?  Not sure.  I feel like I'm just floating around, totally lost.  I don't have anybody I can go to.  I don't know what I'm doing any more.  And I used to be so sure.  I had direction once.  I had ambition.  More and more I start to think that if I could have done it all over, I'd have ditched the grad school idea, let David take a good business job somewhere else and settled down to make babies and live the hausfrau's existence.  If I'd done that last May, I could have 10 pounds of adorable infant and a decent income coming in.  I could be living in a neignborhood where your car doesn't get broken into and people wash their hair (I live near the art school--lots of dreaklocks, female body hair, and right-wing conspiracy theories).  Maybe I could be happy.

mighty_aphrodite: (contemplative)
Okay, the angst is back.  That didn't last long.  I just found out I only got a friggin' C+ in my Latin class, mostly because of the fucked-up way he grades our exams.  Okay- 6 passages of Latin, about 15 lines long each, probably about 150 words or so total.  You make more than 12-15 mistakes per passage, you get an F for the passage.  That's right, 90% is an F.  No percentages or numbers, just letter grades for each passage.  Then he averages all the letter grades together as if calculating your GPA and that's the grade you get for the exam. 

I got a D+ on the first exam.  I dunno what I got on the final, but it can't have been a whole lot better.  

What do these people expect from me, seriously?  Between two languages, I'm assigned 700-1000 lines of reading a week, plus a shit ton of secondary reading, seven short papers, two long ones, plus teaching and grading 27 papers every three weeks  They're supposed to be educating me, not driving me to new depressive lows.  I'm either tired or pissed all the time, I'm broke, and I've lost at least 10 pounds.  I'm gonna need a break after my MA or I'll never make it through my PhD.
mighty_aphrodite: (dark/twisty)
So I got the inevitable phone call from my dad this morning.  No hello or anything, just "You know, you could have at least called your mother yesterday."

Fuck that.  You know what?  I have a phone too, and the only time I've heard from my parents in the past two months has been when they called me by mistake when they meant to call my sister.  FUCK Mother's Day.  Did anyone remember my wedding anniversary for two years in row now?  Anyone remember my husband's birthday?  Oh, and on my birthday?  Who got oversized clearance sleepwear in a Wal-Mart sack, bought the night before while I was sleeping on their couch?  Yeah, me.   So I don't want to hear a fucking word about how bad a daughter I am.  Shitty manic-depressive drug-abusing parents don't get kudos for the oh-so-noble act of reproducing.
mighty_aphrodite: (Default)

Okay, am I ever?  But that's not the point.

This morning I am woken up by the puppy having a dream at 8 am.  Cute, but early.  My class isn't til 2:30.  boo. 
Walk puppy, shower, decide to go to campus early to do Latin becuase Iive stupidly left my OCT of Catullus in the office last night.
So I get off the bus, trip up the staris outside and the quart of Chai mix in my bag burst all over all my possessions.  Luckily the computer was in another pocker and only got a little sticky.  I, on the other hand, am covered in Chai from the ankles down and spotty everywhere else.  Lovely.  I call the hubby for clean pants.  He arrives an hour later with overalls.  Did I mention I'm giving a presentation today?  Luckily, my pants are tan capris and the chai spots don't show much.  Then he calls dibs on "OUR" computer for the whole night tonight so he can write grants for his band.  Esqueeze me?  I may have ordered it in his name, but my department /fin aid is paying for it.  Ass.  Then I find out I get the dubious pleasure next spring of TAing for--get this-- Introduction to Religions of the World.  Fuck me sideways, man.  Seriously? 

"We base our offers of appointment on a variety of factors, trying to match your strengths, interests, and needs for professional development with the realities of our undergraduate curriculum."

In other words, "We need a TA for this thankless job nobody wants. You're low on the proverbial totem pole and didn't make gpa last term, hence, we ignore your qualifications and your request NOT to TA a religion class and fuck you in the ass sans lube.  But you won't complain because you are a poor grad-slave and you need the money.  BTW, if enrollment drops below 75% for the class, even by one student, your appointment gets cut in half."

Thanks.  Why don't I just drop out, get knocked up and become a housewife?  Because obviously I'm not good for anything else.

Now everything is pissing me off today.  Every little friggin' thing makes me want to punch someone in the face.


mighty_aphrodite: (Default)

September 2009

67891011 12
13 14 1516171819


RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags