monster sarcasm rally

Now, I don't consider myself an expert on classiness, not by a long shot. Although there are many adjectives which could accurately be used to describe me, classy is not generally one of them. Well, not unless the speaker happens to be my mother...

But I digress. I do that you know.

Anyways... As I was sitting on the streetcar on the way to work this morning, I looked over at the woman across from me. She had a little mirror out and was putting on her makeup. I'm not talking about fixing her lipstick; she was applying foundation. This just strikes me as the epitome of classlessness. Putting one's makeup on while riding on public transportation is generally the stuff of crazy old women who don't know where they are and teenage girls who aren't supposed to be wearing any in the first place.

This woman was about 30. She was fashionable and well dressed. By all appearances, she was somebody who held down a real job (you know, the kind where you never have to tell anybody to have a nice day). Oh, and she was pretty. So, really, what's up with that? Does that not lack a certain sense of decorum or sophistication?

'Dude, our TV is working. Why are you reading?'

So I'm watching Stargate right now. It's brought up a thought-provoking question.

What would you do if you met an alternate-universe version of yourself and she was jealous of you? Conversely, how would you handle meeting a version of yourself that you felt was superior to you?

I had a strange dream. Not an interesting dream, mind you; just a strange one.

Moiraine and I were walking down the street. She turned to a woman sitting on a park bench and said hello. 'That's my sister', she said to me. Then we kept walking.

I have seen pictures of Moiraine's sister. The woman on the bench looked nothing like her. It was strange.

Bill is my new least favourite person.

And now, a random list of words and their definitions...

Pompous: (adj.) self-important; pretentious; unduly grand in style

Arrogant: (adj.) unduly appropriating authority or importance; aggressively coneited or presumptuous; overbearing

Condescending: (adj.) feeling or showing a patronizing attitude

The Ferengi is in a foul mood today. She has been all week.

There's been talk of hiring another person to come in and help us out. Sadly, this would reduce our workload. The Ferengi likes being overworked; it gives her something to complain about.

So, there I was at work, peacefully chatting... erm... peacefully doing my job. New guy walked up, came around behind my desk, looked at my monitor and watched what I was doing for several seconds. Eventually, he turned to me.

'Hi, I'm Bill*. I'm new here. You've undoubtedly seen me around the office and wondered who I was.'

He then proceeded to turn around to the stuff on the other side of my desk. He picked up a few papers and read them. Then he pointed to the fax machine. 'So this is a fax machine?'

No, loser, it's a friggin' toaster oven! Now go away before I shove my pen up your nose.

*Note: Bill is a made up name. Sadly his real name would actually fit the sentence even better, but it just doesn't seem right to tell you that it's Chad.

I went to the health food store this morning to buy breakfast cereal. The place was filled with low-carb Atkins crap! What's up with that? I want something that's actually going to fill me up and give me energy.

Nobody I know buys into this whole Atkins thing. Where are the idiots who do? How come I've never met them? Surely they must exist, or the health food store would not be filled with $12 boxes of Atkins-brand breakfast cereal. The owner said he stocks it because people want it - even at the outrageous prices. Who are these people? Where do they come from? What happens to them once they've bought the cereal and other branded garbage? Do they disappear back into the floor? Do they disapparate? Do they run back down to the sewer systems they call home?

...that my ability to make coffee is inversely related to my immediate need for coffee.

I feel old.

I guess it's no great surprise. I'm 31. Single. Surrounded by people five or ten years younger than I am. Relatively speaking, I'm old.

The reason I feel old, though, is strange. I look at my friends and I feel like we're peers. I have friends that I feel are my equals in terms of knowledge, experience and where we're at in our lives. Most of them are in the 21-23 age bracket.

I'm keenly aware of just how old I am because I feel very young.

I said titties in front of Fred last night. Oops! She not only blushed, she hid her face behind her hands.

We watched a movie and the hero (yes, as in male) took his shirt off. Three of us laughed and told her to cover her eyes. I meant to say that his nipples were visible, but for some unknown reason I said titties instead. The word 'nipples' would have produced much the same effect, though. She went on to tell us how men should keep their shirts on.

Good grief, someday some man is going to marry that girl and she'll have to deal with more than just his nipples.

Her innocence is without a doubt charming, but it entertains me.

I'm allergic to cats and I can't knit. I guess that means I won't end up as a spinster after all.

Okay, so technically, I am one already. The aforementioned facts preclude permanent spinsterhood, though, so it must be just a phase I'm going through.

My roommate just called me at work. She had to tell me that we were out of toilet paper and that I would need to buy more. Oh, no! It's an emergency! What if they fire me as house manager because we were out of toilet paper for two hours on a weekday afternoon? What would I do? How would I cope?

Maybe my incompetence will frustrate her beyond what she can bear and she'll just move out.

Good grief; I hope so.

So the Ferengi is griping about boxes around images - again. Really... What's up with that?

If you don't like the box, cut it off!

So, I came in to work this morning. The first thing I did was to head over to the coffee maker. I put the filter in the basket and then proceeded to tear open the package of coffee. Wide open. All over the kitchen. All over myself. Oops! I guess I tore with a bit more gusto than I should have.

What does this teach us? I shouldn't attempt complicated tasks (such as making coffee) before my morning coffee.

I hope the day improves from here. I have an interview this afternoon and I hope it goes better than my coffee-making experience.