Thanks, I'm good. I trust my ophthalmologist & retina doc.

no prob. Good luck with everything.

Today, yesterday and Wednesday. I'd done the usual bi-weekly filing for unemployment earlier in the week, then checked my bank balance on Wednesday to make sure the funds were in there before paying some bills...but they weren't.

Started to call the UC info line, but it was an hour wait so I thought, maybe it's just late and it will show up later today, or tomorrow morning.

I should have stayed on the line...grrrr.

Still nothing in there on Thursday, so I called back and endured the wait. Turns out, because I'd been able to get one full week of temp work the month before, they'd somehow determined that I now had a full-time job. Despite there being weeks between then and now that I didn't get to work full-time, or at all. So, even though it was indicated that my claim was accepted, the payment was not released.

After I explained on the phone that I have been doing temp work while I search for a job, all was fine and they released the funds to the direct deposit center right then and there. Yay. Except that it takes a couple of business days to process, and won't make it to my account until Monday. Boo.

stinging nettles

>whine<

Have to fill out an application form for a job which would drive me to a nervous breakdown if I got it - just like my last one did. Otherwise no govt money for me. The Job Centre tell basically everyone who walks through the door to apply for the same positions... talk about an over-fished pond. Therefore I won't get it, so it's cool. It's just kind of a waste of my time.

While they are prickly to harvest, they are delicious, you know.

2 days of work before vacation next Thursday...

I was mildly irritated by two things today because I'm all uptight stress unreasonably unbalanced and generally kablooey at finals time:

The first was gossiping wait staff at a restaurant. A couple of employees were gabbing near the top of their lungs at the waiter-box like ten feet behind my head. Talking at work is cool and all, but, uh, can you tone it down some? Like a lot? Cause it's a little empty in this section here and your voice is fucking carrying like mad. I don't wanna be "that guy", but sometimes, native spanish speakers seem to assume that if you're not hispanic you don't understand (I'm not, and I do), and if you don't understand, you won't actually *hear* the noise so it's ok to go at the top of your lungs. Ladies, I heard every word of your banal conversation. They could probably hear it down the street. Which is probably why the boss came over and (relatively politely) chastized you for loitering and sent you to the back where they were swamped with work while you were gabbing. Thanks boss!

Later I got all cross as I stopped in a gas station to make a single quick purchase. There was one dude buying a mass quantity of crap beer and having some problems with lotto tickets or something, and one guy raced to get in line in front of me with some oil - but it also turns out he needed a refund on a prepaid pump or some such crap. The clerk was not prepared to deal with either of these fools, leaving me stuck waiting in a grody little gas station that I normally don't visit anyways. I waited patiently for a while, but after some discussion between the three of them on whose tasks will take less time and who should go first I just said fuck it and walked out, as I had far more important things to do and my purchase could be made later.

I went and slugged some crappy coffee and hit the books til my back started hurting and came home to be pissy on the internet. Hooray!

Strangely, the process was one hell of a lot easier before they went to all this online shit. You walked into the office, stood behind the white line, looked mildly contrite, signed a log, and left.

Also, you didn't have to pay taxes on the UC back than, which I found REALLY annoying. Don't they know that I really needed that money? How was I supposed to pay the crack bill?

The bit that freaked me out the most was that after I WAS employed, they found new and interesting ways to screw things up, including sending me a notice that my claim for unemployment from the job at the rehab was being denied because I didn't work enough weeks after being employed before becoming unemployed again. WTF?

So I did the best thing I could under the circumstances. Ignored the whole effin' thing.

Oh, and my hold record for a UC drone was 2+ hours.

Headsets are essential.

In my bit of the U.S. we have to apply for three jobs a week while on unemployment. And keep documentation of all your attempts. I don't even balance my own checkbook and they want me to keep documentation?

This resulted in my applying for a whole lot of really stupid ass jobs that I was fearful that I might get offered. I did not want to be a website marketing editor (okay, I might have actually had fun with that, but I doubt they would have paid much), or a series of demeaning temp jobs (odd, it was a temp agency in my field and I never heard back from them at all ... and it wasn't one of those fly-by-night steal your identity scam places, it was an agency I knew of), or being a registrar at a really shitty "college" (as seen on TV, you know, one of those), or ... I hadn't gotten to the point of trying for anything involving manual labor, although I did sink to the level of food service, because it was a career fair, and one half-hour of my time fulfilled the requirement for the week.

Summer is coming, which, in the U.S., means the opening of pool season. My apt has a pool. Instead of just giving us the pool tags, we have to go over to the office to get them.

But the office doesn't handle it. I have repeatedly tried to make arrangements to pick up my pool tags at a time other than the "official" ones, because the hours are always at night. No daytime hours.

guess what, peeps. I work nights. I cannot leave work. I cannot take off work in order to come pick up a laminated piece of cardboard on a pin. I'm saving lives here, you're passing out pool tags. I outrank you.

Well, every year, I have had to conscript a neighbor into picking up my pool tags. I haven't seen any of my neighbors this past week to ask them if they'd do it for me.

Luckily, because I worked the weekend, I had today off, so I was able to get over to pick up the tags. Or, as it turned out, tag.

When I get there, they are savaging a deaf man because they are unable to figure out what he is saying ... he didn't voice well, and they were just plain stupid, but I waited.

I hand over my paperwork.

drone: there are two names here but only one signature on the form.

wolf: it is difficult to get the deceased to sign things.

drone: then why are there two names here on my sheet?

wolf: I really couldn't tell you.

WTF? A simple platitude of sympathy would have suffiiced.

And so, I only got one pool tag. Every other non-momwolf year, I've gotten two tags.

I have more than one swimsuit, and can't guarantee that I'll remember to move the tag, you know?

Chances are I won't even set foot in the pool, but I have the tag, just in case.

Oh, and I can't use my two courtesy guest passes unless I am actually present with my guest.

They couldnt' figure out that the deaf guy had to sign his form along with his not dead mother, either. He was still there after I left.

Oh, hell, I forgot what I actually wanted to post about ... lot of irritation going around.

Must be prickly heat.

So, anyway ... why won't my public library website remember my frickin' library card number. I can't remember it ... it's like 16 or 20 digits long! And it's not like I also have to remember a stinkin' password ... just select my branch, put in the card number, and it goes right to the online services where I can check out an ebook and send it to my Kindle. Content, incidentally, that pays attention to it's "return" date and deletes itself off the device whether I'm done with it or not. It's not like walking into the library and checking out a bunch of books that I have no intention of returning, and maybe I'll sell them for crack (which does happen at my branch, incidentally) ... it's data.

Allergies. AND it's gonna be 90 here today.

What global warming?

It's too warm. And I'm not someone who's been complaining about the cold and is never satisfied with any weather... I would love to have the coldness back! I already have heat rash and it's only, what, 22'c?! Why do I fail so badly at being a human?

because you're British, babe:p

To be fair, this policy did cause me to apply for a one to two day a week job that wasn't the full time position I was looking for ... that turned into the job I have now, because they created a position for me.

My hands are too shaky to do much.

If life hands you lemons, make lemonade.

If your hands are shaky, polish stuff and make milk shakes. And give swedish massages. And wave to random people in the street who will smile and be happier.

or just wank. Hell everyone needs a personal day every now and then.

No one else on earth does windows! ;)

I just casually went to go on a website and this weird loud music started playing and "HACKED" came up in the middle of the screen with some other crap. Closed the window before reading. Sucks to be the proprietor of that site. He always has hackers after the site, because I guess people have noting better to do.
Anyway, it just about gave me a heart attack. Damn hackers.

A couple of weeks back I wrote "Value Cake Mix" on the shopping list.
"Value" is the term Tesco use for their most basic products. It has now been rebranded to Everyday Essential or somesuch.

Anyway.
You know I am into the baking of the cakes. I wanted two packets in the cupboard for when I couldn't be arsed, or when I wanted to try something without committing to a big cake. 22p for a packet which makes 12+ fairy cakes means you can mess about a bit.

Only it happened Dad went shopping on his own that day. Brought back 1 x Victoria Sponge Mix (same thing really, but not as cheap) and 1 x Scone Mix. Sigh.

Now given the Scone Mix was in the cupboard, and just needed milk, and I was bored, I thought I might as well.
But I like cheese scones, you see. So I added grated cheese.
And I didn't think generic scone mix would be all that sweet, given that you butter it up slather on cream and jam.

WRONG!

Generic scone mix is very sweet.
So the lovely cheese scones I was going to send to Limes & Dans are now barely fit for consumption.
I know they eat cake & cheese in the North, but this is such a bizarre mix.

May make from scratch tomorrow.
On all honesty I do have all the ingredients, I was just trying to kill two birds with one stone.

Will be running around like a blue-arsed fly today, we need milk urgently but no time to shop, decided to detour to store on way home from dropping kids at bus to get milk so I didn't have to lug round a cooler to keep it fresh all day assuming i find two minutes to buy some..... parked up, realized wallet etc at home. grrrr.

Arg, trying to teach my dad how to use the computer.

He doesn't want to learn. He WANTS the computer to "malfunction" (it works perfectly well) so that he has an excuse not to use it.

At the slightest thing he says it's hopeless, broken forever.

His rants about how much he hates the computer feel like a personal slight against me a) because I gave him that computer and b) as a computer generation kid it feels like he hates my generation and society as a whole.

Instead of asking me for help, he phones up his friend, while I'm in the room, to go off on a massive rant about how useless the computer is and how much he detests it, how it always ruins his day, etc.

And I'm just like... I'M RIGHT HERE IF YOU NEED HELP WHY DO YOU NOT JUST ASK?!

FFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-


#FirstWorldProblems

So why did you buy him a computer and why are you trying to force him to learn how to use it?

He has to use it in order to contact an organisation in South Africa (where he used to live) to get his money from them. I don't know if you've tried to post anything to South Africa in the last 10 years or so, but it's a lost cause. Third world country now, basically. Phoning is a nightmare and can't accomplish everything anyway. He also needs to use it for a few other things.

ugh. Sounds like a recipe for frustration :(

Automobiles are pissing me off today. I bought a used van the november before last, with just under 100k miles from a small work vehicle dealer: it's a bit of a "candy van", a white minivan with a ladder rack, shaded windows, and a bulkhead cage, but whatever. I wanted a van and needed a vehicle. I paid a little too much for it.

It's been totalled by getting rear-ended since, and had about four grand in work done to it as stuff started just.. critically breaking all of a sudden. Exhaust manifold. Fuel injection. The rear differential utterly shat itself. You name it.

Today I took it to the shop for the california smog to renew my reg (yet another pile of state fees, fines, taxes, levies, etc to deal with) and get an oil change. While I'm checking out they casually mention "oh yeah, there's a ton of oil on your engine, and also your engine mounts are broken." me: "What. How much to fix that." "The mounts are a $500 repair." me: "I am going to drive this vehicle off a fucking cliff."

Apparently it won't catastrophically fail right now, so I'm going to let it go for the moment. I don't have that kind of goddamn money to blow.

That's my story, and I fucking hate cars and computers, the two most prominent things in my life. Grr argh. First world problems. Rahh.

We have a high school in town that teaches mechanics, as well as in the university here. They are usually begging for cars to work on. They do not charge labour, just you buy the parts. The teacher will tell you what you need to buy as well. We have had fuel filters replaced, oil changes, a slave cylindar replaced, tires mounted, rotated and balanced. This has saved us hundreds of dollars. I know they have worked on timing chains and more, because I have had converastions with my son about what he did that day. Everything is checked by a certified mechanic (the teacher) before leaving the shop.

I suggest you check out the schools in your area. Chances are the engine mounts are not that expensive, and its just a matter of the labour to remove the engine, change them and put it back in. Sounds like its about the right thing for kids to be learning how to do! Might save yourself a whole lot of money.

That is *awesome* that your schools do that. Unfortunately I believe they just cut the last auto shop program out of the local high school. :( It made a lot of people mad. The community college doesn't have an auto program, either.

Also, it's summertime and school is out!

The mounts aren't that expensive: under $10 apiece. I'm guessing the work comes from disconnecting the engine and hauling it up on chains. I've seen it suggested for my particular model of vehicle to just support the engine on a board with a jack from underneath and replace one mount at a time, but I don't know if I'm entirely comfortable doing that.

I'm a bit irritated that I'm not a very good tradesman. We're closing in the back porch and converting it to a double room for the big boys so they'll have more space once the baby comes. Dad and some other friends came over on the weekend and we got it all framed up and mostly sheeted, which left all the trimming for me and the boys to do, then paint. Painting will be fine. I'm not even concerned about that. We're doing ok with the trimming, and thanks to Dad leaving his mitre saw, it's making the job much easier, but I still wish we could get a better finish. It's ok for three drongo's, but I just wish we were better. Unfortunately, I'm not prepared to buy more timber in order to get the cuts more accurate second go around.

Yes we've employed the measure twice, cut once theory, but have discovered that it really is just a theory. It doesn't mean you'll get it exactly right anyway.

Still, it's not a bad job, and no more gaps and putty will fix up most of the little errors. I just wish we were better.

You're missing the last part of the saying, which is don't measure at all unless you have to. It's much more accurate to take your board and hold it up where you want it, and make the mark where you need to cut it. When you get a measuring tape involved, you add a couple more opportunities to let error creep in. The reading the measurement, the remembering/writing down the measurement correctly, and the transferring the measurement to the work piece are all prone to error.

But that little nit picking rant aside, you should also remember that when you build something, you see the flaws much more readily than anyone else will. I still notice the spots where the grout lines are a little out of alinement in the shower I tiled. Nobody else knew about them until I pointed them out.

Yeah we did that as much as we could too glatt. The holding the timber up to make the mark etc.

Maybe my expectations are too high. Anyway, we've got one more window and door to put architraves around. We'll probably do that tomorrow and then start the painting. Hopefully by Saturday the job will be more or less complete if I can just get the sheets of perspex for the doors. We're going to sheet the existing screen doors so that there's another light source, rather than buy new doors which definitely wouldn't have glass panels to let in the light anyway.

That's my story pole and I'm sticking to it. ;)

mildly irritating, upsetting, bumming my stone... whatever.

I have a cold, have had one for a couple days now. It's unpleasant. My inability to breathe easily had really made it difficult to sleep. I'm drinking a lot of tea, the heat soothes my throat. And now, it's raining and cold outside so I'm stuck inside. Ugh.

Saturday
In my cube
I guess it's not the fourth of July...

Crap crap crap.

Anyone have a life preserver handy?

Or: Infinite Monkey's Excellent Adventure.

Hey, I says to myself, hey there's one of those crap coffee machines down by the cafeteria. The door I normally use was open at 8 so I didn't think much of it...there are a few classes on Saturday.

Well, got near the cafe entrance and a sufficiently creepy couple who were in the terrace area told me the building was closed and asked if I had any change. No.

I walked through some mazes of buildings, trying doors as I go...no luck. Crap! Cell phone in the office. ID card in office. Purse and keys in office. Except of course for my key to the suite. I did have that.

FINALLY I found an open entrance with an intercom into the cop shop. The lady said I needed to sign in. No one ever told me that. Every Saturday I've worked I've gotten into the building with no trouble, and never signed in. She was really nice though. I wound my way through the third floor back to my building.

No coffee, either. I'm a numnut.

And the city smells like a fat rendering plant. I'm not kidding. Though it is a much more pleasant day than the last few, so there's that.

Mildly irritated by US politics-related posts creeping in to general purpose threads ...

One to talk with your catch 22 posts in murphy's law threads, but whatever.:rolleyes:


(smartassing it up :p:)

One can always count on you, footy.

Shopping.

I really dislike doing it. I mean, I can wander around and look at stuff okay, but this was "I have a list and I have to cross things off it" kind of shopping.

Didn't do so well at that, as it happens.

See, what I really needed was a new pair of sneakers. The soles of my beloved Adidas hikers are starting to separate from the shoes, and just gluing them isn't doing it, and I really am not so much of a nerd as to just wrap a piece of duct tape around them, so I need new sneakers.

Now, I have some pride, so I can't just roll down to the Walmart down the street and hook up on some $10 rollback specials.

So, I decided to go to the Target, because I do have this list that included a lot of other things, all of which I knew Target would stock. And they did, except, as it happens, the sneakers. Yes, that's right. The item I specifically went to get, I failed to obtain. They did HAVE sneakers, damn ugly kind of fake Converse sneakers ... no interest there. Lots of kid sneakers, but nothing but those damn ugly converse things in my size. They didn't even have low hikers, which I would have settled for. So, after the shoe aisles I head straight for the checkout.

And realize, in the middle of the parking lot, that I had failed to hit the grocery section, which I had planned as my last stop. Well, it really wasn't a grocery trip, just a trip to get some extras of things I'm close to being out of, but not THAT close, so I keep heading toward the car. Stow everything, and realize I still hadn't gotten the sneakers that pried me off the couch, and I'll need the sneakers, we're doing some rah-rah fitness thing at the rehab, and I signed up for it, so I need some decent sneakers, right? Well, I am just down the mega-center from a sporting goods superstore, and so I'll head in there, yeah, fine, but I'm going to stop in the Old Navy, just to confirm that they don't sell any grown-up clothing, they don't.

So then into the sports store, head for the sneakers, and ask the clerk, "So, do you have anything sneakers that cost less than fifty bucks, aren't white, and aren't high tops?

No.

Back out into the damn heat, but I did run into the Five Below and got some bottled water to fend of the early symptoms of dehydration, and realize I'm looking at the back of a shoe warehouse, go in, grab a pair of very sweet looking Adidas sneakers, try them on, try two other pairs, just in case something else will fit, the $150 Asics were really nice, but didn't look as good on my feets as $150 worth of shoes should, hit the checkout, paid my $49.97 (yay, sale ... $70 regular price) and I was off like a prom dress.

I really don't like shopping.

*laughs*

That describes pretty much most of my shopping trips. I am useless if I am going for something specific. I can wander about and look at stuff and maybe buy on impulse with the bst of them. Present me with a shopping task (like something to wear for my cousin's wedding, or a decent pair of wellingtons because my boots have died in the constant rain), and I hate it. Hate. It.

I often just abandon the idea after a short while, fuck off home for a cuppa.


My favourite shopping is accidental shopping. Yesterday I went into town to pick up a prescription. I got a lift in with mum who then went off killing time in the charity shops (thrift stores) whilst I was waiting on the script.

A couple of days prior, I had been on an unsuccessful welly shopping expedition to TKMaxx, followed by an even less succesful internet trawl. Saw some on the Next site that looked great, but the reviews suggested they'd start splitting after a month or so. Saw some gorgeous Hunter boots, but I can't justify £80 on a pair of wellingtons for walking the dog in the rain.

Stood in the chemist waiting for meds, and Ma phoned me to say she was in the camping and outdoors shop and there were some wellies there. Popped in on my way back to the car and saw the ones she'd mentioned: lovely looking, with a bright floral design on a dark background. £25 and looking verylike the ones with the bad review I'd seen. Then, just tucked in a corner, for £15, plain green Dunlop wellies.

I asked the guy if the £25 price tag was paying for the flowers or if they were a better quality too. He said the Dunlop were better quality.

So ended up with some nice, but entirely serviceable Dunlop wellies, for £15. Job done. Accidental shopping is best.

Tonight after footy, which was about 9pm, Mav asked me for the car keys so he could get some stuff out of the car and put it into his mates car whom he was going home with.

After 10 mins he still wasn't back, and when Aden and I went out to the car park, we found Maverick had left, with the car keys.

I was beyond mildly irritated at first, but thanks to the boys coach, we were able to get home, pick up the spare key, then go back and get the car.

That boy probably wont be fit to play next week.

just to be clear.... he didn't drive your car away, right?

right V. Probably put the keys in his pocket and left.

thats right classic. i am going to kill him.

yikes.

This fucking coffee table we bought weighs about 700 pounds, and I think the assembly instructions are all but physically impossible to accomplish. (The heavy main cabinet with the coooll lift-up top is supposed to go into place and, I suppose, levitate by means of clean thoughts, while you screw in the six bolts that hold it up (two of which are almost impossible to reach in any event due to lift hardware inside).

My back and arms are all sore from manhandling (or wimphandling) all the pieces.

I hate putting flat packed items together.

sometimes it's worth paying the extra dollars to get the store to assemble them for you. After all, if stuff came assembled like it used to 'in the olden days', we'd be paying the price anyway.

Normally I have no trouble, and even enjoy it some, but the weight of the main piece was just past me. I ended up taking it halfway apart and revising the directions so everything would be supported by another piece or braced against the floor until the bolts were in place.

Oh Mav you silly bloody teenager. Not malicious, or even mischievous, but that sort of not-thinking-things-through that is very common with the sub-adult.

No more than a gentle beating, okay, Ali?

haha....actually, I'm feeling like a bad Mum atm. I spoke to Mav finally at about 10am this morning and gave him a bit of a drilling and told him there'd be consequences when he gets home.

The thing is, he's doing the half kokoda challenge starting from 12 today, so I feel bad that I didn't have the good grace to wish him well and tell him to look after himself, and now he's out of contact till at least 2am tomorrow morning. :(

well, I wouldn't worry about it too much. You know, what doesn't kill you or break your spirit or unfairly criticize you gives you something to talk about in therapy for years after. so, win win!

Ach, that sucks Ali. It'll pass though. Bet he's too busy by half to be fretting about it.

Wrist problems? I know what you do with your laptop in your bed!

Naughty boy!

... and be sure to close the laptop CAREFULLY when you're done, that's all I'm saying! :shock:

Patience testing little freaking ranga!!!

Yeah, bloody Gillard.


[/Aussie humour]

You all voted for her!!!

(a) what you mean "you"?

(b) what you mean "all"? :eyebrow:

(c) what you mean "for"? I was voting against Abbott!