Strange as it may seem, this life is based on a true story." - Ashleigh Brilliant


name: shanna
age: 28
sign: scorpio
live: louisiana
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Monday, August 11, 2003

Holy fuck, is it Monday again?? It would appear that it is.

As of this morning I am, once more, a part of the telephone-having population. Sadly. Did I ever mention that I hate the phone? With an intense passion? No? Then allow me the pleasure of indulging my distaste here and now.

It rings - I cringe. Goddess knows what I did before Caller ID because if I don't recognize the number, I don't answer it. Generally it's telemarketers wanting me to let them lower my credit card rates (I don't own any credit cards) or bill collectors checking to see if I'm alive (if I had your money, you'd have your money). I'd rather not talk to either of them. Sometimes it's friends - not usually. My friends know better than to try and reach me by phone. I don't normally return calls and it's even rarer that I actually answer. It's not that I'm a bitch or that I don't love my friends. None of that. It actually stems from the fact that I'm a hermit at heart and I don't like to talk on the phone to anyone ever. My answering machine used to actually say, "This is me, obviously I'm not in. You can leave a message if you want, but knowing me, I probably won't call you back." I took it off after enough people complained it was "horribly rude". I thought it was brutally honest.

(Allow me to go off the phone rant on this small rant-tangent, please) -sigh- People say they want honesty all the time - my advice? Don't listen to them. They don't know what they want, but it sure isn't honesty. Honesty hurts - it is especially damaging to fragile egos. If someone asks your opinion or asks you to "be honest", it's best to lie to them.

So I hate phones - always have. I own a cell phone (which I hate) that I never use. I pay $39/month for a small piece of plastic that stays in my car 24/7 because it won't hold a charge if it isn't hooked up to the car charger. Why should I get it fixed? I only bought it "for emergencies" anyway - in my car. Most people say that, then end up not being able to live without the thing. I'm not one of those people. It stays in my car and no one calls me on it. Ever. But, back to the point, I do now have a phone. Please don't call me.

I have a little more to bitch about, so stay with me, please? Thank you; you're too kind. Have you ever met an adult (i.e. a seemingly grown-up person in physical appearance) who talked "baby-talk"? We have this woman at work that talks like a child. Always. She thinks it is cute. It is not. It's about as cute as bad children running amok because their parents won't scold them. Their parents think they're "just so cute" when in fact they're "just so fucking annoying". She'll come to my cube, make a mock pout face (and she isn't cute to begin with so just imagine), stomps her foot and says in this little, girly voice, "I need help! I just can't get my 'puter to work!" She then huffs like a 5-year old and gives me this plaintive look. My first reaction is to pick up my very heavy, black stapler and chunk it at her 40-something-year-old-wrinkled-face that is contorted to appear child-like. But company policy frowns on such things. I explain to her how to fix her problem the best I can right where I sit. I refuse to go and help her. No, not just because she's an adult that utters every statement like a 7-year old girl, but because she's an incompetent moron who cannot do her job and expects me to go over to her cube and hold her hand through using the most basic programs. That's bad enough. But when she comes over and starts talking like a goddamn child I want to bitch-slap her, grab her and shake her, screaming, "HOW OLD ARE YOU???". If you've ever been around someone who does this for a considerable amount of time you would understand.

In case you couldn't tell, I started today. -big smiles- Don't fuck with me.

- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 1:22 PM

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