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zarzaputchel
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Name: Elin
Location: St. Paul, Minnesota, United States
Birthday: 11/22/1984
Gender: Female
Interests: boys and the pursuit thereof (heh), trying new foods, cd's, local music. girls' night out is always a good time, too, as is girls' night in.
Expertise: sleeping, Spanish, flirting *wink*, avoiding the telephone like the plague, piano, making to-do lists, getting stomped on continually by others, and being picked up again by my girls.
Occupation: Student
Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
AIM:  belloza8407
Member Since:
11/23/2004
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| my new phone is red. it makes calls, receives them, and really, that's all i needed to ask it to do.
this phone should not have taken 1.5 hours to acquire; instead, it should've been a simple, straight-forward process involving me entering the store, presenting my old, decrepit phone, and being shown several choices. upon making my decision, i should have been give a receipt, rebate form, and my new phone with sim card, paid for it, and gone away. this should have taken 15 minutes.
i do not care about my phone plan; i don't pay for it, anyway. i do not want to upgrade to an iphone (though i do want on when i grow up); i do not need to be told about nokia being a such-and-such kind of company, and i certainly don't need to know anything about how you, sales rep/store manager, grew up in northern illlinois and went to st louis once. i also do not want to debate with you the highway systems of st paul and st louis, nor do i wish to tell you about my job and educational history.
all that would've been tolerable, however, had you actually paid attention to me the entire time. i understand that you are in charge, but really, allowing other customers to interrupt the service of another customer does NOT scream great service. it only angers me, a customer. (side note to all the b-wads on grand: you suck. you do NOT have more privilege than i do, and somehow, despite the fact that you have money and i don't, i have managed to dress better than you. so shove THAT up your entitled, 'really quick question'ed rear end.)
perhaps, Rachel the store manager on Grand, you felt you were doing me a service by taking up my entire morning. instead, you are probably the most unhelpful doofus whose behaviour only solidified my resolve never to patron your location again.
i'd rather have a broken phone.
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| to the creepy house on summit:
please, please tell me that all those teddy bears lined up in you front windows are to entice unsuspecting children into your home. somehow, i would find that less creepy than if you were to have them there because you think they look good there.
to the policemen driving by:
i was not drunk this morning, at 8:15. i was merely tripping over my own shoes as i crossed the street, which was not lacking in bumps, by the way. perhaps you could put in a tip with the city to come resurface.
to all the wannabe hipsters at dunn brothers:
i do not care about your wanting to appear like you do not care. i do not think you are extra cool because you get soy in your beverage, i do not think you are more important because you budge in front of me, and i certainly do not think that it's okay for you to look at me with disdain when i am exiting. because here's what, Macs: you pay too much money to achieve that kind of look; i honestly just roll out of bed, tousle my hair, and walk out the door. that's what REAL not caring looks like, jerks.
to my boss (who wasn't seen on this walk, but was thought about quite extensively):
you are an asshole. when an employee comes to you and says, 'i am ill,' you should send that employee home immediately; pretty sure it's illegal to have pathogens floating around the food area. and when an employee comes to you and needs help, you shouldn't treat that employee like it's all her/his fault for being so weak, for being so incompetent, for being such an idiot as to not be able to perform simple tasks. because clearly, if someone intelligent is asking for help, that's precisely why: because she/he is intelligent enough to recognize help is needed.
furthermore, you should never, EVER pressure a female employee into telling you exactly what is going on with her body to create such feelings of being sick. it's none of your business, nor is it the business of any other supervisor/employee. anything told to you that isn't directly pertaining to work should be assumed to be private. you are an arrogant weasel, and dammit, i have more degrees than you; i could do your job with just ONE of them, if that. oh, and by the by, please stop being racist, too. thanks.
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| dear gentlemen who entered my apartment this morning:
thank you for coming. really--i appreciate the response to my complaint about the radiators. now that they are fixed, and will no longer explode at me, burn my hands, turn my bedroom into a sauna, or squeal, life in Apartment 5 will be greatly improved.
however, i must know: is it completely necessary to shout at me and make a ton of noise? is it really impossible to do your work quietly, particularly when it's been revealed to you that there is a sleeping person in the other bedroom? now, i realize that the nature of your job is not the most gratifying, and i'm sure that you don't often hear "thank you." having said that, thank you. it was not you that i was upset about; it was the lack of notification from the office that caused me to be surprised by your arrival, which, in turn, explains my lack of attire. (by the way, thank you for not staring inappropriately at my bare legs.)
i hope that i don't have to see either of you again. not that i don't like you; i would simply rather not have additional problems with which to deal.
love,
Elin
p.s. could you tell your friend who shut the water off in the building this afternoon that doing so without notifying the other tenants who may, in fact, be home at 2:30pm is completely unacceptable and alarming, to say the least. i believe this to be the same individual who came to fix my kitchen sink several weeks ago, and he and i aren't besties. but he'll listen to the two of you. thanks!
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| ...from which i think i got fired from today. not sure. hmm...
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| today i took my niece to see the Titanic exhibit at the science museum. this excursion has been long-awaited, for both of us, and it was super-fun. when you enter the exhibit, you are given a boarding pass, on which is the identity of an actual passenger, including reason for travel and a tidbit of information about her/his life.
i was Maria Josefa Perez de Soto y Vallejo, from Madrid. my husband, Victor, and i were finishing up our two-year honeymoon with an impromptu trip on the Titanic. his mother had warned us about taking the trip by sea, because it was bad luck. to fool everyone, we left our butler in Paris to send pre-written letters back to them in Spain, while we were at sea.
at the end of the exhibit, there is a complete list of all passengers and crew, divided into survivors and non-survivors.
i survived, but my husband did not. i found my husband's name first, among those who died, and i found myself caring less about whether or not i survived myself; i was half-hoping that my name would be next to his. but it was not, and when i read my name i wished that i hadn't been in that list. an overwhelming swell of sadness and sense of loss came over me, and i found that strange; i had so taken on this identity on a 4x6 notecard that i felt real grief.
this is the closest i've ever come to "understanding" (whatever that means) the acute loss of a mass tragedy. for many people, 9/11 is the definition of tragedy, and indeed it is terrible. but i didn't feel any personal loss or sadness; it was more formal than that, more corporate. same with the 35W bridge collapse, and columbine, and katrina, and the oklahoma city bombing; i felt sad that those things happened, and compassion for those affected, but it wasn't personal.
i am so blessed to be in that position. to not know what it's like to lose someone to terrorism, to faulty construction, or even to natural disasters, is, i think, a rare, cushioned place to be.
that's all i have for today...not sure what that means, or if it even means anything. i don't think it has to.
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