I need to vent. I need to figure out why things are. Like, for instance, these things:
1) Why can't I get off my artichoke fix? Really. I've been in California for 6 months now and it's still not getting old. I wonder if there's a group for this. I can't be the only one ODing on hearts and butter.
2) What's with the guys on motorcycles that feel like they can't sit in traffic with the rest of us so they cut inbetween the cars and push to the front of the pack? This has to be a West Coast thing. I've seen a lot of bikes (hell, I've even ridden some) and no one does that in the East. I can't figure out the benefit there. Hmmm. Place self between close cars to gain 3 seconds of work time. Perfect sense. Really. Who doesn't want an extra 3 seconds to piss someone off at the office? Gosh, not me. Never!
3) I hate you sun. I lather up with SPF 85 and you still fucking burn me. What gives? Do you seek me out? Do you get a cheap thrill? Are you contracting with the HMO that will eventually pay for my skin cancer removal? What?? Tell me. Tell me how not to get burnt and I'll do it. Staying indoors is just not an option.
4) Dropped calls. I live in the middle of fucking Silicon Valley. The center of the techie universe. Yet, for God knows what reason, I still cannot drive from work to my apartment without dropping a call TWICE. Hear that? TWICE. Fix the fucking infrastructure. I'd have better luck in Guam. I swear.
5) I can't find a couch. Really. I thought I'd be able to peruse CL or go to Ikea or something and just pick one up. There are like 5,000 different kinds and non of them are a) my taste, or if they are my taste then b) comfortable. WTF? Does everything have to be so complicated? I just want a fucking couch that I can fucking sit on to fucking watch TV. Not to repeat myself, but, really, WTF.
6) Can someone explain men to me? Do they really just not get it? I'm praying that's not the case. And, for the love of God, can we put together some sort of Oral Sex 101 for these poor guys? It's not fair to leave them wandering around in the dark with no clue. Can you imagine what the world would be like if the majority of guys knew what they were doing? A MUCH BETTER PLACE, that's what.
7) Damn you Manolo Blahnik. You and your perfectly comfortable and fabulously stylish shoes. They're so fucking exquisite - they fit right, they look right, and it's practically orgasmic. There's only one problem. Each shoe (no, not the pair - just A shoe) costs more than my monthly food budget. Unfortunately, that's a problem. Do I eat, or wear a pair of kick-ass pumps? Honestly, that's a hard call.