Archive for August, 2008
Sunday with the ‘rents
My parents are funny.
They’re even funnier after several bottles of wine. And margaritas.
By the time I arrived at their house today, they’d already been drinking for an hour. Possibly two. Yeah, it was most likely two. Needless to say, both were in rare form. Dad finally realized that my graduation date and his retirement date coincided, and so he could not stop going on about how excited he was and all the parties he wanted to plan and maybe we should take that entire week off to vacation in Yosemite and how about we see who else will join us in Corvallis? Ugh. I made the mistake of pointing out that Brownsville (town where Stand By Me was filmed) was just a short jaunt south of Corvallis, and he got even more excited and said we should just make a huge event out of the whole thing. Me personally, I would prefer that nobody attend my graduation or make a big deal. Nothing more humiliating than having people celebrate the fact that I’m finally getting the degree I want at the ripe loser-y age of 35. Not to mention that acting as though this is the only degree that I’ve ever received is kind of insulting. As though nothing I’ve done until now has been of any consequence.
Granted everyone making a big deal out of this are the people who saw me let go of my forestry dream fifteen years ago and have been dismayed ever since. But still. Give me some fucking credit, folks. At least I didn’t rely on my parents and grandparents to pay for my school AND my wedding AND a place to crash while I paid off bills. While others I am compared to were off wasting their time doing god-knows-what, I was busy being self-sufficient AND earning degrees. Put that in your pipe and smoke it. (and at least the place I work actually places value on the degrees I earned; scoff all you want…a journalism degree actually holds high regard in the corporate world, especially when you can back it up with muscular verbal chops) I can do long-form taxes with my eyes closed, have been published in actual real-life magazines and newspapers, AND I can tell you the type of rock your house is built on just by looking at it. So eat me.
Anyway. Wow, it seems that I’m just going to be in a total rant frenzy this weekend.
So. Yeah. There was barbecuing going on today. Drunken, ranty barbecuing. Angsty barbecuing. Happy Labor Day?
Finals, Huzzah!
I finished studying for my Multicultural Perspectives final and will most likely be taking that tomorrow. Up next, write a 5pg term paper on the Mendocino Coast for extra credit (because I love extra credit. LOVE IT. Even when I don’t need it, I go for it anyway. Because I’m SICK), write a 12pg communication event analysis, and then bang out a 15pg final exam for Communication Theory. The XC is due Tuesday, the other two due Wednesday. Yeah, no pressure.
Technology should have stupidity restrictions
I don’t know how I could forget. Seriously, how is it that I forget every single time I plan a trip to Fry’s how completely ridiculous and uneducated the bulk of the human race is when it comes to technology?
I’m not saying that I expect everyone to know the differences in memory, motherboards, CPU’s, etc. or to understand that flux capacitors DON’T REALLY EXIST. However, I do think there should be an intelligence test before one is allowed to enter part or all of any computer store, especially a place like Fry’s where precious electronic components line the shelves and walls, waiting to be snapped up by the latest round of society-at-large retards who don’t know Thing One about what in Sam hell they’re doing, only to be returned by said retards within a day or two, leaving nothing but rows upon rows of boxes marked “Previously Opened” for those of us who actually KNOW what we’re doing and could have been perfectly happy not buying something them and their ilk had their greasy moronic paws on already.
Can you tell I’ve been through this before? Many many times? About the only thing at Fry’s that I’ve ever sought out that hasn’t been previously opened is the memory I’ve occasionally purchased. I’d like to say that I never once got a returned CPU, but there was indeed one time and I raised hell until the manager got me a new one from stock. Thank god I wasn’t ordering a meal from them, otherwise there would have totally been bodily fluids all up in it.
Ran to Fry’s today to pick up a new video card for my new system. For some reason going to the Concord location seemed a better idea than the Sacramento location (in retrospect, not such a good idea; had to take a completely different, backwater highway system to get home without holiday traffic). I must remember to only use the Concord location in times of extreme desperation, as it is more compact and therefore the technology tards are all up in my grill the entire time. Case and point: At the Sacramento location, the first thing you encounter when you walk in is all of your media…games, CD’s, DVD’s, software, etc. They often have game demos going, but for the most point it’s a relatively innocuous experience, and you can quickly walk through it to the more tech-savvy part of the store if you don’t feel like browsing for music or movies (I tend to come back to that part after I’ve finished getting my nuts ‘n’ bolts). Any obnoxious DVD’s that may be playing are sequestered in this little pass-thru alcove with a reasonable volume.
The first thing I encounter upon entering the Concord Fry’s? A giant flat-screen TV parallel to the pathway blaring a live Don Henley DVD. There is nothing more demoralizing than trying to shop to “Dirty Laundry.” On the opposite side of the aisle is the entire video and PC game section, complete with two huge demo stations complete with sofas. So they actually want people to camp out there and game all day. Crappy games, too. Really crappy games that made my vagina ache with the knowledge that somewhere in that town, women were abusing the privilege of being able to bear children by raising a bunch of impotent nose-miners who would do nothing but sprawl across a department store couch for four hours while playing Super Mario Sunshine with other diseased mongrels of society.
Fortunately Fry’s actually had the video card I wanted at ten bucks cheaper than I expected, and because the rest of the store was packed to the rafters with holiday shoppers (buying what? I have no idea…I think most people were there having the equivalent of the 1960′s “Kids, get cleaned up and put on your Sunday best…we’re going to Sears!” experience; there was entirely too much wandering aimlessly and not much actual procuring of goods), nobody wanted to stick around longer than it took for me to get said video card. In and out in fifteen minutes. Perfect.
As I was standing at the checkout counter, I happened to notice a display of rather elegantly-wrapped candy bars. Upon closer inspection, I saw the words “the finest Belgian chocolate” emblazoned in gold leaf lettering on each bar. I turned to my shopping companions and said “Really? The FINEST Belgian chocolate in all the land…right here, at the checkout counter, in Fry’s Electronics. For only a buck ninety-nine. Really?” The cashier, overhearing this, informed me that the bars had been selling like hotcakes all weekend. I glanced over my shoulder at the small crowd cheering and dancing to the Don Henley concert. I glanced back at the chocolate bars. Somehow it all made sense.