Can somebody please explain how a nice, relatively-normal person like me has managed to get herself onto so many drug and sexual spam email lists?
I don't get it...I've never ordered illegal drugs or visited a porn site. Seriously. So how did these pill pushers and horny nineteen year olds find out about me?
I'd understand if I started getting random emails from puppy farms and junk food companies - based on my internet surfing habits, both would make sense. Even the drugs make a little bit of sense - we could all use some Xanax every once in awhile. But porn? Really?
The other thing that gets me is that when I log onto my email and see that I have 23 new messages in my inbox, I usually start thinking "cool, friends." It's only once I start sifting through my messages that I realize that of the 23 messages, 2 are from my mom, 1 is from a random acquaintance asking for a favor, and the other 20 want to sell me drugs and porn.
And the porn emails are a popularity tease in and of themselves, 'cause they usually say something along the lines of "Hey sexy, I saw your photograph and wanted to show you mine." Perverted as that might be, my initial inclination when I read that sort of thing is to think "Hmm, maybe the horny 19 year old actually does find me sexy." It's only once I read the fine porn print that I realize that sadly, it was only a line to get me to click on something that will either charge my credit card on a monthly basis or download a virus onto my computer that turns all of my icons into penises.
I suppose there's not much I can do about these emails other than complain about them and promptly delete. Still, it would be nice if just once in awhile, I could log into my email and only find messages from people I actually know...although, if I'm being honest, a little spam from the ice cream companies also wouldn't hurt.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Traffic
My theory on traffic is that if everybody on the road would just keep on driving, then traffic wouldn't exist.
Think about it: if all drivers could just make a pact along the lines of "once on the road, never stop moving till you're off the road," then driving throughout the great state of New Jersey would be so much easier for all.
Now I know that there are many fascinating things along the road to look at, such as trees, building, and perhaps the occasional police car with its lights flashing...but if we could all somehow join together and agree to overcome our urges and simply drive on by the next time we see a guy on the side of the road looking under his hood, then the highways of New Jersey would become oh so much easier to navigate.
So if you're reading this, then please make an internal pledge to start contributing to the betterment of mankind by agreeing with my mantra: "Once on the road, never stop moving till you're off the road."
Remember, traffic is an ongoing problem, but you have the power to become the cause or the solution. The choice is yours...but if you choose the former, then I will give you the finger the next time I pass you on the road.
Think about it: if all drivers could just make a pact along the lines of "once on the road, never stop moving till you're off the road," then driving throughout the great state of New Jersey would be so much easier for all.
Now I know that there are many fascinating things along the road to look at, such as trees, building, and perhaps the occasional police car with its lights flashing...but if we could all somehow join together and agree to overcome our urges and simply drive on by the next time we see a guy on the side of the road looking under his hood, then the highways of New Jersey would become oh so much easier to navigate.
So if you're reading this, then please make an internal pledge to start contributing to the betterment of mankind by agreeing with my mantra: "Once on the road, never stop moving till you're off the road."
Remember, traffic is an ongoing problem, but you have the power to become the cause or the solution. The choice is yours...but if you choose the former, then I will give you the finger the next time I pass you on the road.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Snores
My dog snores. A lot.
Now this wouldn't be a problem were it not for the fact that my little guy likes to sleep with his fluffy dog body pressed up against my face, so that with every nasal grunt that emanates from his blocked passageways, my sleep cycle is, in turn, interrupted.
I've tried the classic methods of turning him over on his side or trying to pry open his mouth to allow for an additional breathing option, but none of that seems to work, and as a result, I'm tired. I'm tired because while I usually manage to spend 6 to 8 hours in bed per night, there are many occasions where of that time period, only 3 to 4 hours will consist of actual sleep.
"So then kick the dog out of bed," my friends all say.
Well sure guys, that's easier said than done. It's bad enough that the guy gives me the world's greatest guilt trip every time I try to leave the house without him...you try looking into his sad brown puppy eyes after you've ousted him from his usual sleeping quarters. He'll be snuggling back up against you in no time, guaranteed.
I suppose I've got no choice but to deal with my dog's nighttime chorus of snorts. As much as the sound of a locomotive train going off in my ears is disrupting, it pales in comparison to the guilt-inspired tossing and turning of an owner who just forced her adorable dog to sleep alone on the floor.
Now this wouldn't be a problem were it not for the fact that my little guy likes to sleep with his fluffy dog body pressed up against my face, so that with every nasal grunt that emanates from his blocked passageways, my sleep cycle is, in turn, interrupted.
I've tried the classic methods of turning him over on his side or trying to pry open his mouth to allow for an additional breathing option, but none of that seems to work, and as a result, I'm tired. I'm tired because while I usually manage to spend 6 to 8 hours in bed per night, there are many occasions where of that time period, only 3 to 4 hours will consist of actual sleep.
"So then kick the dog out of bed," my friends all say.
Well sure guys, that's easier said than done. It's bad enough that the guy gives me the world's greatest guilt trip every time I try to leave the house without him...you try looking into his sad brown puppy eyes after you've ousted him from his usual sleeping quarters. He'll be snuggling back up against you in no time, guaranteed.
I suppose I've got no choice but to deal with my dog's nighttime chorus of snorts. As much as the sound of a locomotive train going off in my ears is disrupting, it pales in comparison to the guilt-inspired tossing and turning of an owner who just forced her adorable dog to sleep alone on the floor.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Busy
One of the problems with being a freelance writer is that many people equate the term "freelance" with "free as a bird."
It often comes as a shock to people when I turn down offers to spend a random weekday at the beach because I've got a deadline, or when I explain that I simply can't spend the fourth Wednesday of the month protesting global warming because I've got work to do.
"Work?" people ask. "But you're a writer. Can't you just write stuff another time?"
Sure, often times, my schedule is flexible, but "flexible" doesn't mean "work never."
Maybe it's a terminology comprehension thing, or in the case of several people I know, a glaring lack thereof.
To avoid future confusion, here's a little guide to some of the more commonly-used terms in my little writing world:
Writer - one who writes in exchange for monetary compensation, minimal as it may be
Freelance - one who works independently, on an "as needed" basis, often times without a set schedule but with deadlines nonetheless
Deadline - a point in time by which, in my case, freelance writings are due, the neglect of which could easily result in lack of compensation and future employment
I hope this clears up some of the misconceptions about my day to day schedule - not that I truly expect it to make a difference. I will still have people calling me at all hours of the day expecting my undivided attention on a variety of matters, but at least, in my mind, I am now a lot more justified in telling them to piss off.
It often comes as a shock to people when I turn down offers to spend a random weekday at the beach because I've got a deadline, or when I explain that I simply can't spend the fourth Wednesday of the month protesting global warming because I've got work to do.
"Work?" people ask. "But you're a writer. Can't you just write stuff another time?"
Sure, often times, my schedule is flexible, but "flexible" doesn't mean "work never."
Maybe it's a terminology comprehension thing, or in the case of several people I know, a glaring lack thereof.
To avoid future confusion, here's a little guide to some of the more commonly-used terms in my little writing world:
Writer - one who writes in exchange for monetary compensation, minimal as it may be
Freelance - one who works independently, on an "as needed" basis, often times without a set schedule but with deadlines nonetheless
Deadline - a point in time by which, in my case, freelance writings are due, the neglect of which could easily result in lack of compensation and future employment
I hope this clears up some of the misconceptions about my day to day schedule - not that I truly expect it to make a difference. I will still have people calling me at all hours of the day expecting my undivided attention on a variety of matters, but at least, in my mind, I am now a lot more justified in telling them to piss off.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
A new invention
Caller ID is a wonderful thing. People with antisocial tendencies like me probably make great use out of it on a regular basis. However, I'd like to take it a step further in the form of Call Topic ID.
Here's the thing: often times, you have people who you are generally willing to talk to, but sometimes, these people bring up topics that you'd rather not discuss. Enter Call Topic ID.
The Call Topic ID system would require each caller to state his or her name and purpose of conversation before connecting the call. The system would have to be equipped with some sort of auditory lie-detecting software to determine if the caller is actually telling the truth about the conversational topic at hand. Once verified, the recipient would then have the opportunity to accept or reject the call based not only on the caller, but on the topic of proposed conversation.
So for example, say it's your old roommate calling to find out if you want to have dinner next week - sure, let's discuss; but what if your old roommate is calling to rehash the details of last night's date, in overly informative detail, for what is bound to be the next 20 minutes of your lives? Well, that's a different story, and one you probably don't want to hear.
Of course, the system would be designed to let the caller down gently. "I'm sorry; [name of person you called] is busy right now, but she'll call you back later" would have to follow most rejections.
However, there should also be an "[name of person you called] would like you to stop harassing her over [purpose of conversation, as stated by the caller]" option for the people out there who just plain don't know when to quit.
Think about it. The Call Topic ID system, with all of its potential customization options, could actually, in a way, open the doors for more open and honest communication.
Ever go out with a guy and have trouble letting him down easy? No problem. You can simply program your Call Topic ID system to respond to "It's [Tom] calling to [ask you out again]" with "I'm sorry; [name of person you called] is not interested in dating you, but she wishes you the best of luck in all of your future dating endeavors." Come on - that's far better than "sorry, I can't tomorrow, I've got to stay home and wash my hair."
Sure, this system might have its flaws, but I think most people will jump at the chance to get in on this innovative technology.
Maybe I ought to go file a patent...
Here's the thing: often times, you have people who you are generally willing to talk to, but sometimes, these people bring up topics that you'd rather not discuss. Enter Call Topic ID.
The Call Topic ID system would require each caller to state his or her name and purpose of conversation before connecting the call. The system would have to be equipped with some sort of auditory lie-detecting software to determine if the caller is actually telling the truth about the conversational topic at hand. Once verified, the recipient would then have the opportunity to accept or reject the call based not only on the caller, but on the topic of proposed conversation.
So for example, say it's your old roommate calling to find out if you want to have dinner next week - sure, let's discuss; but what if your old roommate is calling to rehash the details of last night's date, in overly informative detail, for what is bound to be the next 20 minutes of your lives? Well, that's a different story, and one you probably don't want to hear.
Of course, the system would be designed to let the caller down gently. "I'm sorry; [name of person you called] is busy right now, but she'll call you back later" would have to follow most rejections.
However, there should also be an "[name of person you called] would like you to stop harassing her over [purpose of conversation, as stated by the caller]" option for the people out there who just plain don't know when to quit.
Think about it. The Call Topic ID system, with all of its potential customization options, could actually, in a way, open the doors for more open and honest communication.
Ever go out with a guy and have trouble letting him down easy? No problem. You can simply program your Call Topic ID system to respond to "It's [Tom] calling to [ask you out again]" with "I'm sorry; [name of person you called] is not interested in dating you, but she wishes you the best of luck in all of your future dating endeavors." Come on - that's far better than "sorry, I can't tomorrow, I've got to stay home and wash my hair."
Sure, this system might have its flaws, but I think most people will jump at the chance to get in on this innovative technology.
Maybe I ought to go file a patent...
Monday, May 11, 2009
Road work
Earlier today, I noticed some road work taking place in my neighborhood, most likely an attempt by the township to finally repair the massive indentations left by the overzealous snow plows on a series of side roads surrounding my house.
Now don't get me wrong - I'm glad to see that they're finally doing something to make up for the fact that this cluster of streets looks like it was previously trampled by an of out of control T-rex seeking blacktop for food. However - and you knew there was going to be a "however" - what I don't appreciate is the lack of warning to the local residents on these particular streets, letting us know that said road work was going to be done smack in the middle of a random Monday.
I had just finished an extended series of errands, and I was about to return to my home via the usual network of streets, when suddenly I came upon a road block in the form of three orange cones and a police officer with his arms crossed, staring me down as if to say "don't even think about going this way."
Now here's the problem - I'm pretty bad with directions, so when I realized that I was blocked off from the street that usually leads straight to mine, I kind of didn't know where to go. I figured that the officer might be willing to help me out, but when I rolled down my window to ask about a detour, he started at me in disgust and motioned for me to shoo. Great.
A mile and a half later, which was the shortest detour I could come up with, I found myself approaching my house from what I'd call "the back way," this time around another series of streets in a completely separate section of town. As I got closer to the street right before mine, I noticed an unsettlingly familiar sight: three orange cones and a different police officer. Perfect.
I explained to the officer and one of the workers that I had attempted to reach my street the first way, was told to get lost, had driven all the way around the neighborhood to access my home via a different approach, and was now, once again, blocked by the road work.
Fortunately, once I described the location of my house relative to the road work, this officer, who was clearly a lot nicer than the first guy, decided to help me out. With the guidance of one of the road workers, I was able to navigate my way around the cones and ripped up sections of street to eventually reach my home, albeit a little shaky from driving through an obstacle course of bumpy hell. (Oh, and remember those alignments I wrote about a couple of entries ago? Yeah, my car will be needing another one of those thanks to today's adventures in virtual off-roading.)
The whole incident really pisses me off. Sure, do your road work in the middle of the day - after all, how else are the roads supposed to get fixed? But how about a little warning from the township, letting its tax-paying residents know that certain key streets will be closed off at certain times, thereby making local travel annoying bordering on virtually impossible depending on which officer you get at the time? Is that really too much to ask? The township gets thousands of dollars a year from each household on the 3 affected streets - is it unreasonable to expect a notice in the mail a day or so before alerting us that we might not be able to access our homes between the hours of 11:00 and 3:00?
Gotta love New Jersey.
Now don't get me wrong - I'm glad to see that they're finally doing something to make up for the fact that this cluster of streets looks like it was previously trampled by an of out of control T-rex seeking blacktop for food. However - and you knew there was going to be a "however" - what I don't appreciate is the lack of warning to the local residents on these particular streets, letting us know that said road work was going to be done smack in the middle of a random Monday.
I had just finished an extended series of errands, and I was about to return to my home via the usual network of streets, when suddenly I came upon a road block in the form of three orange cones and a police officer with his arms crossed, staring me down as if to say "don't even think about going this way."
Now here's the problem - I'm pretty bad with directions, so when I realized that I was blocked off from the street that usually leads straight to mine, I kind of didn't know where to go. I figured that the officer might be willing to help me out, but when I rolled down my window to ask about a detour, he started at me in disgust and motioned for me to shoo. Great.
A mile and a half later, which was the shortest detour I could come up with, I found myself approaching my house from what I'd call "the back way," this time around another series of streets in a completely separate section of town. As I got closer to the street right before mine, I noticed an unsettlingly familiar sight: three orange cones and a different police officer. Perfect.
I explained to the officer and one of the workers that I had attempted to reach my street the first way, was told to get lost, had driven all the way around the neighborhood to access my home via a different approach, and was now, once again, blocked by the road work.
Fortunately, once I described the location of my house relative to the road work, this officer, who was clearly a lot nicer than the first guy, decided to help me out. With the guidance of one of the road workers, I was able to navigate my way around the cones and ripped up sections of street to eventually reach my home, albeit a little shaky from driving through an obstacle course of bumpy hell. (Oh, and remember those alignments I wrote about a couple of entries ago? Yeah, my car will be needing another one of those thanks to today's adventures in virtual off-roading.)
The whole incident really pisses me off. Sure, do your road work in the middle of the day - after all, how else are the roads supposed to get fixed? But how about a little warning from the township, letting its tax-paying residents know that certain key streets will be closed off at certain times, thereby making local travel annoying bordering on virtually impossible depending on which officer you get at the time? Is that really too much to ask? The township gets thousands of dollars a year from each household on the 3 affected streets - is it unreasonable to expect a notice in the mail a day or so before alerting us that we might not be able to access our homes between the hours of 11:00 and 3:00?
Gotta love New Jersey.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Coupons
Is it really sad that often times, getting a coupon booklet in the mail is actually the highlight of my day?
I just love opening my mailbox and finding a packet stuffed with money-saving coupons on everything from ice cream to laser hair removal to grouting services. Sometimes I get coupons for totally free stuff, like a free apple at the local farmer's market, or a free drink during happy hour at the local bar. Those make me the happiest...though last month, I spent six dollars in gas money driving around in search of the mystery farmer's market that was offering the free apple. I found it, eventually, and it wasn't so much a farmer's market as it was a couple of fruit stands set up inside an abandoned parking lot, but still, I got my free apple, so I was happy.
I'll admit that I will go out of my way just to be able to use my coupons, even if it means buying up seven ice cream sundaes from the nearby shop just to be able to take home the 8th one for free.
I once discovered a coupon for one free entree at the local Indian restaurant with the purchase of any other entree on the very day it was set to expire. The coupon applied to sit-down meals only, and what with my limited social resources, I ended up going alone, ordering 2 curry dishes, and eating from both till my stomach felt shaky as the restaurant owner (who was probably also my waiter and also the chef) stared at me judgmentally.
I suppose the key to proper coupon usage is "savings in moderation," but in a way, I'm proud of the fact that I very rarely let a good coupon go to waste. Now the fact that those coupon mailers are the highlight of my day...well, that's a different story...
I just love opening my mailbox and finding a packet stuffed with money-saving coupons on everything from ice cream to laser hair removal to grouting services. Sometimes I get coupons for totally free stuff, like a free apple at the local farmer's market, or a free drink during happy hour at the local bar. Those make me the happiest...though last month, I spent six dollars in gas money driving around in search of the mystery farmer's market that was offering the free apple. I found it, eventually, and it wasn't so much a farmer's market as it was a couple of fruit stands set up inside an abandoned parking lot, but still, I got my free apple, so I was happy.
I'll admit that I will go out of my way just to be able to use my coupons, even if it means buying up seven ice cream sundaes from the nearby shop just to be able to take home the 8th one for free.
I once discovered a coupon for one free entree at the local Indian restaurant with the purchase of any other entree on the very day it was set to expire. The coupon applied to sit-down meals only, and what with my limited social resources, I ended up going alone, ordering 2 curry dishes, and eating from both till my stomach felt shaky as the restaurant owner (who was probably also my waiter and also the chef) stared at me judgmentally.
I suppose the key to proper coupon usage is "savings in moderation," but in a way, I'm proud of the fact that I very rarely let a good coupon go to waste. Now the fact that those coupon mailers are the highlight of my day...well, that's a different story...
Monday, May 4, 2009
Piss Delay
Sometimes I experience bouts of Piss Delay throughout the day.
Piss Delay occurs when you find yourself needing to go to the bathroom but are unable to do so for an extended period of time due to sudden circumstances outside of your control.
For example:
You're about to go to the bathroom when suddenly the phone rings, and several minutes later, you're still explaining to the person on the other end of the line that no, Hector doesn't live here, nor has he ever lived here, sorry, can I go pee now?
Or:
You're about to go the bathroom when suddenly the doorbell rings, and it's a some college-aged hippie asking you to sign a petition that'll help save the environment, and several minutes later, even after you've signed the darn thing, the guy is still going on and on about how the government is torturing trees, not realizing that he, ironically, is torturing your bladder.
Sometimes, if you're super special, both of the above-listed examples will occur back to back so as to provide a more extended version of Piss Delay. Of course, after this happens, you find yourself so worked up over your Piss Delay that you have no choice but to quickly document said feelings by writing them down on your blog, thereby contributing yourself to the Piss Delay and becoming a well-integrated part of the problem.
So having said all of that...I'm going to go put an end to this madness. NOW.
Piss Delay occurs when you find yourself needing to go to the bathroom but are unable to do so for an extended period of time due to sudden circumstances outside of your control.
For example:
You're about to go to the bathroom when suddenly the phone rings, and several minutes later, you're still explaining to the person on the other end of the line that no, Hector doesn't live here, nor has he ever lived here, sorry, can I go pee now?
Or:
You're about to go the bathroom when suddenly the doorbell rings, and it's a some college-aged hippie asking you to sign a petition that'll help save the environment, and several minutes later, even after you've signed the darn thing, the guy is still going on and on about how the government is torturing trees, not realizing that he, ironically, is torturing your bladder.
Sometimes, if you're super special, both of the above-listed examples will occur back to back so as to provide a more extended version of Piss Delay. Of course, after this happens, you find yourself so worked up over your Piss Delay that you have no choice but to quickly document said feelings by writing them down on your blog, thereby contributing yourself to the Piss Delay and becoming a well-integrated part of the problem.
So having said all of that...I'm going to go put an end to this madness. NOW.
Friday, May 1, 2009
Word
Sorry, but I really need to get the following off of my chest:
Sometimes, I really, really hate Microsoft Word. I hate the fact that it's not compatible with any other document system or publishing tool. I hate the fact that it embeds all of these secret codes and subliminal messages while you're sitting there writing a short story about puppies. I'll bet there are a number of folks on the FBI watch list because they copied and pasted some innocent ramblings from Word onto the Internet that, unbeknownst to them, contained some sort of suspicious encryption that will cause their passports to get flagged any time they try to leave the country.
I hate that Word formats things the way it wants, and then gets too set in its stubborn little ways to accept any changes you might try to implement. Like hey, maybe I don't want line-spacing between paragraphs. Maybe I'm just wild and crazy like that.
Tell me, is it too childish to start calling it Microsoft Turd?
Sometimes, I really, really hate Microsoft Word. I hate the fact that it's not compatible with any other document system or publishing tool. I hate the fact that it embeds all of these secret codes and subliminal messages while you're sitting there writing a short story about puppies. I'll bet there are a number of folks on the FBI watch list because they copied and pasted some innocent ramblings from Word onto the Internet that, unbeknownst to them, contained some sort of suspicious encryption that will cause their passports to get flagged any time they try to leave the country.
I hate that Word formats things the way it wants, and then gets too set in its stubborn little ways to accept any changes you might try to implement. Like hey, maybe I don't want line-spacing between paragraphs. Maybe I'm just wild and crazy like that.
Tell me, is it too childish to start calling it Microsoft Turd?
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