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Name: Clawed
Crystal Ball - home
The Bishounen Chorus
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in the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye framed thy fearful symmetry?
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mmm, homemade mocha frapuccino. I <3 my boy... :) I really need to get back into playing with web designs... and writing, and rping.... but WoW... it's so addicting... right now I'd do practically anything to be able to listen to my ipod while I work. I think I'd even take a pay cut, or give up one of my breaks. With nothing to listen to but the sounds of the office (which get really loud and chatty sometimes- like now, when I can hear someone being very "AWWWWWWWWWWW" from the file room halfway across the building (probably over someone's birthday gifts - don't get me started on the "work-appropriate things" list... Oh, hell, it's my rant space. The office has a no-radio, no-mp3 player policy. I get that. Most of the employees have to answer phones - hard to do with an iPod stuck in one ear, and the game of competing radios is not fun in a cube farm. They have a no-food-at-desk and no-drinks-without-lids policy. I can *sorta* get that - less mess - but it strikes me as a little... elementary school-ish. There's also a no chatting policy. When we're on the floor, we're expected to work. As expected, this last rule is broken a lot. But for all that we're supposed to be uber-professional... why, oh WHY can I hear someone "Awwwww"ing over birthday gifts across the building? ... why oh why does distribution/mail room/ file room smell like Old Lady Floral Perfume??? I mean, like the carpet's been *soaked* in that overpowering floral scent that Little Old Ladies tend to wear? I thought I was going to pass out - or puke - when I went to put some files away... Yes, I have a list of the number of days in each month listed next to my monitor. It's so I don't have to dredge up that stupid poem we all learn in elementary school when I enter the 60 day losses. Because I hate having to dig out a calendar when I'm trying to determine if a loss on the 1st of a month when the policy inception date was on the 21st of the previous month is inside or outside of the 10-day critical period. (This is done because a loss within 60 days of a new policy may be a sign of fraud. A loss within 10 days of a new policy is a big red fraud flag. Most of them are legit, but some... like a guy with a brand-new mercedes, takes out a full coverage policy the day before he gets into an accident with a curb, leaving the car in rather damaged but still driveable condition... Also, we track which producers - offices that sell our policies - have a lot of these 60-day losses. Suspicious, wot?) I want wireless bluetooth earbuds for my ipod. They make them. They'd cost me about a month's pay, but... >.< is it bad to work for a company and not agree with some of their policies? My employer, as you all know by now, sells car insurance. They specialize in Hispanic/mexican business. A lot of their clients do not have valid driver's licenses, valid us ids, etc. This is annyoing in and of itself, but I agree with Finch - if I'm going to be run into by someone without a d/l, I'd rather the person have vehicle insurance than to have to deal with someone without. Likewise for illegal immigrants, though tracing them down via legal means when they don't want to be found causes headaches on a daily basis with our adjusters... No, what annoys me about the whole policy is that it only applied to hispanics!!!! If you're chinese, native american, french, canadian, russian, white... anything else... you get denied. Have nothing but a eurpoean id? No insurance with [company]! Chinese with an expired d/l? No insurance with [company]!! U.S. citizen, but your d/l is with a different state? No insurance with [company]! If you're hispanic, though, have no d/l, not a resident of this country, and the only form of ID you have is a mexico ID card? Full coverage!! In fact, this point has been brought to [company's] attention before. I file letters and records of visits by adjusters to our producers (the people that sell our policies). Many, many of these are in california, as that's where the bulk of our busniess comes from. There is a massive hispanic population in california, of course, but there is also a massive chinese population, and many of our producers cater to the latter one. Several of them have been noted in the visit logs as complaining that their chinese customers get turned away for policies that their hispanic customers get approved on, and the only difference between the two policies is the nationality of the applicant. Several of our producers have severed ties with [company] and refused to sell us anymore because of this disparaty. I see refusal letters every day when I'm helping to sort the agent mail where the reason for refusal is a lack of a valid driver's license, but in the visit logs I see the agents proudly reporting they they've sold one of the producers on the fact that hispanic clients don't *need* a d/l to sign up. I can't dredge up any information on [company] or the separate policies we sell to explain it, and my position here is not secure enough to start questioning people about it. ... did I mention that Finch's aversion to faxing in a resume is really irritating? He won't do it because fax machines can screw up his resume, you don't know if they actually got it or not, and people who just list a fax number just want to be able to pick up a big stack of papers off their fax machine and go through it and that means they're lazy and technologically illiterate. Because any decent employer has email or prefers people to call them. Yes, that's right. Employers who only use a fax machine in their help wanted ad aren't work working for because they prefer the fax machine. I think I've put my finger on one of the reasons why sometimes Finch really irritates me. He seems to be completely unable to extrapolate things, or to reason out in his own mind what I might mean if I say something he doesn't immediately comprehend. for example, since explaining this is really hard. Friday night we made a pot of soup. He had started it before I got home, and since he was making another dish to go with it, asked me to toss the rest of the soup ingredients in the pot once it reached a certain point in the cooking process. Wanting to know how much to add, I asked, "Is this a half-batch or a full batch?" (We usually use a different pot, and I seem to recall often doubling the recipe for leftovers. In any case, it had been a while since we made it and I honestly could not tell by looking the amount of soup in the pot. He didn't answer, "Single." He didn't answer,"the usual." He answered, "Huh???" ( I could almost see the multiple question marks) "Is this a single recipe?" "Well... yes?!" (said in the same tone as if I had asked something like "Is this soup?") "Okay... just wanted to make sure..." I replied. "We've NEVER made a half recipe, sweetie. Why would you ask that?" (said in the same tone as if I had just suggested boiling my toenails in the soup) "I thought it was a decent question..." I muttered. I get that a lot. It really gets on my nerves. It's not like I asked a question out of left field - something like "Should I put the soup down my underpants?" or "Is it hot yet?" (the soup was boiling). I tend to follow the "there are no stupid questions" rule of thumb, especailly since I'm very forgetful and like the assurance of double-checking that I'm doing something correctly. Measure twice, cut once and all those little adages. Finch, apparently, does not subscribe to those beliefs, because, judging by his reactions, I seem to ask a *lot* of stupid questions. (And yes, I've brought it up. His defense is that it's just him trying to convey his confusion. Well, dear, your 'confused' tone sounds an awful lot like the rest of the world's 'patronizing' or 'sarcastic' tone.) That's one form of the lack of extrapolation. This happens a lot, to the point where I'm hesitant to ask a question, even if I've genuinely forgotten the answer or am confused about the situation. The other one that really bothers me, doesn't come up as much. I do have a good example, though, and one that ties straight into the "can't just let some things go". My mother called me just as a group of us were heading out to dinner last night. Annoying, but not unmanagable. She wanted to fill me in on a few details of her and dad's impending visit to phoenix, and ask a few questions. I was on the phone for, maybe, 10 minutes, and nobody really minded, as we hadn't even really made up our minds where to go yet. When we got home, we were sitting on the couch. Finch was looking through the paper for job ads. I was waiting for a piece of the paper to read. He was giving off that "disapproving of something" vibe. I made the opening move. "I'm sorry my mom called just then. At least this time I got her off the phone in under half an hour." "Yeah." He paused before firing the first shot. "I just don't understand why you cow to your mother like that." I raised one eyebrow, and made what i hoped was a mollifying comment, followed up by a slightly snarky countershot. "I'm sorry that I'm actually friends with my mother." He gave me a sideways look. "I just don't understand *why*." Direct hit! "Why what? Why I cow to her, or why I'm friends with my mom?" "Either." I was... stunned. I muddled through some sort of explanation that I cannot now recall, fueled by my WTF reaction as the rest of my mind reeled. Sure, Finch and his mother don't have a good relation... well, to be blunt, they pretty much hate each other and take as many opportunities as possible to slice each other into little thin strips. But he hero-worships his dad, and has practically nothign but glowing reviews of his grandparents and the rest of his family that I figured, if he couldn't personally call up the friendship-with-mom bit, that he could at least understand being friends with one's parents. Hell, up until that moment, I'd assumed that he'd been friends with his father, at least. "I'm confused." I'm fighting a losing battle here, but I'm not goign to go down easy. "Is is bad to be friends with your parents? I mean, my mom's not the greatest, I'll be the first to admit it, and she and I don't see eye to eye on a lot of things, but I have a lot of fun with her and I enjoy doing things with her. She's even gone to bat for me against my dad before." (you'd have to know my parents to know just how HUGE that can be - they're rather old-fashioned, highly religious, and very "present a solid front" sort of people; for her to side with me in arguments against my father and do the polite version of telling him off is huge, major points.) Dad and I have never seen eye-to-eye, but my mother is one of my good friends - and if being nice to her and spending 10 minutes on the phone to say 'hi, can't talk right now' is what it takes to keep the peace and not hurt her feelings, then that's what I'm going to do, damnit. My parents are old enough to be my *grandparents* - my grandparents are dead, and have been for years - and the fact that they're both still around and still in (relatively) good health and that I still have a good relationship with them means a LOT to me. Probably more than anything else in the world, short of my relationship with Finch and my sister. By the way, those two relationships - equal. I wouldn't be able to go on very well without Finch. And, though we don't talk as often as I like and live hours away from each other, I wouldn't be able to go on very well without DTF-chan. (there, I said it. Now hush, or I'm going to have to go Beldin on your ass.) "Well, yes." he answered. Direct hit #2!! "It's a bad thing to be friends with your parents????" Red lights blaring! Retreat!! Retreat!!! "In my opinion. I know that's not necessarily rational, but I just *can't* comprehend how anyone would be friends with their parents. Maybe it's because I was forced to be independant, but why would you want to cow to them like that? I just *cannot* understand it. So yeah, I think it is a bad thing." He backpedals. "But I don't think badly of you for it." Soooo... You look down on being friends with parents. You think is inexcusable to "cow to them" or "keep the peace". You think that having that sort of relationship is bad. But - it's okay if I do it? Even though it's not, and you just *said* it's not?? I went into full retreat. "Oh - I'd better pick those candles over there up before someone steps on them." Yeah. That's the other kind of lack of extrapolation. He doesn't have/doesn't know/disagrees. Therefore, it's bad, wrong, and people shouldn't do it. How does that relate to not letting things go? Lying in bed later, he could tell I was still miffed. So I let him know why I was miffed. I was tired. Very tired, and I was explaining badly. But, see, the problem is this. Once he's latched onto a problem, he won't let it go until it's solved to *his* liking. I can't apologize and be done with it. I can't say "let's not discuss this now." I can't do anything but try to answer his questions, and god help me if I get annoyed or frustrated or upset or display any emotion other than calm, passive confusion. So I tried that, but well, damn. I'm just not the sort of person who can discuss being upset or emotional without getting upset or emotional about the issue that got me upset in the first place! Imagine this scene (imaginary, but this is what he expects: *all in a calm voice as though we're discussing what kind of bread to buy* Him: "Why are you upset?" Me: "Because you sounded as though you thought I was stupid." Him: "How did I do that?" Me: "You said "I think your opinion is stupid" in a condescending tone. I know your tone was meant to sound confused, but that particular confused tone sounds condescending. Him: "I'm having trouble hearing that, but I'm sorry I said your opinion was stupid." Me: "In the future, I will tell you when you use that tone so that you can modify it." Now, perhaps in a perfect world, all discussions of arguments/emotional situations would turn out that way. Perhaps, in a perfect world, dog poo would smell like perfume, too. *He* may be capable of divorcing his brain and his emotions (or likes to think he is), but *I* am not. (Oh, BTW, that makes me wrong. See discussion on being friends with parents to see why. Yes, we've talked about *this* before too. Apparently getting upset in discussions like that makes me a psycho bitch.) What really happened was that I got defensive, he got annoyed and asked me why I was defensive. "I'm trying to come up with a way to get out of the conversation," I said. He got all butt-hurt and went out in the living room to cool off. Not because we were discussing an argument. Not because I'd said something pithy, or angry, or mean. He got all butt-hurt because I didn't want to discuss it right then and there and was so mad he had to get away from me for a while. And he wonders why every time I have to talk to him about a problem, I'm more and more reluctant to do so. At this point, I'm afraid to even defend myself because he pulls an emo "YOU SAID SOMETHING NOT PERFECT SO NOW I"M GOING TO BE ALL INJURED AND MOPEY!" on me, over small things - like times in the past, when he's made comments similar to the one he made about the soup. I know how hard it is to judge your own reactions, but for crying out loud - IT'S NOT INVALID JUST BECAUSE I WAS THE ONE TO SAY IT AND NOT YOU!!! Now, you may wonder why I don't say these things to him. It's because he won't discuss or even argue - he debates. He nitpicks. A general "you sounded angry with me" isn't good enough - he wants specific word usages and sentences. He'll then pick them apart until I don't remember what was real or not. I can't paraphrase an argument or saying of his - it's got to be word-for-word or it's invalid. And unlike someone who wants to reach a resolution, he doesn't go into the discussion thinking that maybe, just maybe, he might be wrong. He goes in with the "I'm right, I'm 100% right and she's wrong, and I just have to convince her of that." The points I win are 'granted' to me. "Well, perhaps I did use a condescending tone, but in the future, you're going to have to tell me when I do that because I can't hear the tones I use" when said in the same condescending tone that pissed me off, for example. (Yes, I've called him on that one too. According to him, that wasn't a condescendinig tone, it was an *explaining* tone. I was hearing it wrong. Yes. I was hearing it wrong. He wasn't saying it wrong - oh no. He always sounds exactly like he wants to sound. I hear things wrong.) *sigh* Maybe I'm just being childish. I know I'm overreacting to a lot of this, too. But that's why I'm *here*, screaming at you, dear readers, rather than saying these to him. I rant at you because you have the double buffer of the internet and knowing that the vitriol is not directed your way. I also know that should a shining example of my own stupidity come through, that that same buffer will allow at least some of you to point it out to me. And, of course, by forcing my chaotic thoughts into words and sentences and forcing myself to read them, I can actually say what I mean. Which helps. I guess it's just nice knowing that at least *someone* will listen. It probably won't change anything, but someone will hear me.
Can I blame the boy for wanting to be lazy and relax on his days off? Of course not. Can I blame the boy for having projects that he wants completed? Not one bit. Can I blame the boy for cleaning up and organizing his stuff? Definitely no. Can I blame the boy for complaining and complaining about his job and then barely doing anything to get a new one? You bet your ass I can. Finch seems to have some sort of mental block about jobs. He'll religiously (sort of) buy a Sunday paper when he wants a new job and go through it with the highliter. He'll complain about the lack of decent jobs in the paper and select a few that look interesting. Then he'll start with any jobs that have an email address, so that they have his resume on their "desk" the next day. And that's usually where his enthusiasm ends. If the job needs a fax - maybe they'll get a resume. Probably not. If they just have a phone number - hit-or-miss. Heaven forbid it's an "apply in person". Granted, we don't have a fax machine. But there exist Kinkos in the world, after all. I have to nag him to follow up on anything. He gets very excited when a job is interested in him... then finds excuses to never follow up. He gets busy, usually. Or he doesn't see the point. Or (my personal favorite), he doesn't think it's worth trying to get a job if he has to put in that little bit of butt-kissing that a hiring manager likes to hear. (ironically, this is also the reason he doesn't like faxing resumes - it's not worth it if there's no email. The same goes for phone calls. Not worth it.) And he refuses - REFUSES - to use online job searches. His reason: "They're worthless." Never mind that his preferred method of job contact is via email, which is also the preferred way of contacting people when they list a job online... Which means that, in any given week, he may actually apply for one job. Sometimes two. He may follow up in any seriousness on one job a month. Consequently, he has no new job. And I still get subjected to the litany of how much he hates his job, and how he can't get a decent job. I mean, I don't expect him to spend every waking moment that he's not at work hunting for a new job. But putting in more than the least amount of effort possible just *might* work. >.< Am I nuts? Overreacting? If our positions were reversed, he'd be downright nagging me to do these things. If I nag, though, he'd just get upset. *sigh* I'm afraid that one of these days he's going to start complaining, and I'm not going to be able to bite my tongue on the sharp comments.
Look, idiot. Our adjuster is being very patient. We're admitting that the accident was the fault of our insured. Unfortunately, he wasn't licensed - he wasn't playing by our rules, and therefore, we're not going to pay for the accident. *he* is. You really need to talk to your insurance company about this issue, then. We can't give you any money. Oh, you already did? Well, we're not lawyers and therefore it is NOT LEGAL for us to give you legal advice. We can get in a lot of trouble if we advise you like that. You *need* to talk to your own insurance company. Yes, we know your car is damaged. Our hands are tied. If we pay you, then we have to pay for every one of our policies with lapsed insurance, excluded drivers, people operating without a drivers license, and everyone else breaking their contract with us. We'd go bankrupt. Talk to your insurance company - and, preferably, your lawyer. Oh, I see. You didn't take out collision coverage on *your* insurance policy and therefore they won't pay either. Well, sir, this is why collision insurance exists and a lot of people take it out. No, sir, there's really nothing we can do. We don't cover the policy, and you didn't take out enough insurance to cover your accident. This is not our fault. You really should talk to a lawyer. Really. Lawyer. Screaming at the adjuster won't turn her into a lawyer. No matter how much you want it to. -morons, the lot of them-
Note to Clawed: Projects are fun. Finishing projects for other people's birthdays is very fun. But the next time you decide to stay up until one in the morning working on said project, I'll murder you. But I got it finished enough that Finch and I can complete it today. yay! I got the replacement for my wonderful, wonderful shirt which I ironed a hole in. Yay!! My mocha Frappuccino had slightly congealed mocha. Ya...ew. ew! Things I Want In An Office: MY iPOD!! A desk that's high enough that I can cross my legs beneath it without sinking my chair down to the point where my butt is almost on the floor. A chair with a back support that actually adjusts high enough to be properly placed on my back. Unsupervised work so that I can prod the internet when I'm bored (I work faster when I'm allowed to distract myself from time to time. No, really - I've proven that before. I work MUCH faster when I can browse the internet and distract my brain while I'm working.) A document holder. PLEASE. my own private Dr. Pepper and Mocha Frappuccino dispenser. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. (What, I can dream!) *yawn* boy am I bored. I mean, like DAYAM bored. My supervisor is leaving at noon, and didn't have anything for me to do. I'm currently doing busy work, yawning my head off, and it's only *looks at watch*... oh lord, it's only 10:30. I gotta be here until 5. *shoots self* *goes in search of Dr. Pepper* I'm staring at a yummy Mocha Frappuccino and I still need something else. I think my brain wants the carbonation and whatnot. yay addiction.. *feeds it* ... what? I like Dr. Pepper. Can you blame me? *hits desk with knee* six inches, people! That's it! just six lousy inches. Too much? FOUR would do it! Four little inches... not hard, really. Four inches, and my keyboard wouldn't be below the level of my knees. Of course, a footrest and room to extend my legs wouldn't be bad either. Also being turned so that my monitor in no way faced the rest of the room. And a chair with a headrest. And halflife. That would make things better. There are rumors that the Owners may let everyone go home early. I'm not holding my breath, but it sure would be nice. gah... *whacks watch* go FASTER. IT HAS NOT ONLY BEEN TEN MINUTES! GRRR *froth* I did get a chance to complete my binder-clip pencil cup, though. It works remarkably well, and is almost stable. As long as I don't move it, it will hold my pens and pencils. (well, pens and sharpies. No pencil.) Yay Sharpies. So the program I'm currently (supposed to be) working in is DOS. I keep screwing up the records I'm supposed to be filling out because I keep trying to use windows-based keyboard shortcuts and it's not working. for example, no cut-and-paste. Control validates the field rather than allowing one to jump whole words. The worst one for me is end - it's a field-clear command, and when I mistakenly hit it, erases the whole field. Grr. ^^ I'm so tempted to leave ASCii drawings in the files somewhere. Some of these fields are blank and stacked up. I wish I could remember how to do creepy eyes.... _____ ______ (0) (0) not quite. ~ ~ \0\ /0/ \ \/ / \ / \/ O.o? Shadow, what did you do to my creepy eyes? I walk away for five minutes that this is what I come back to?? Are you trying to tell me something.... ? mmm caffeine. only fifteen minutes until lunchtime... >.< please, people. I know that many/most of you don't know how to put different ringtones on your phone. That's cool. I know that most phones come pre-loaded with decent ringtones. That's cool too. But for heaven's sake, if I hear one more overly cute, ear-piercing default/preloaded ringtone playing at a brain-bleeding volume, I'm going to smash said phone over your head. If it has to sound like a bad midi, at least make it sound like a *phone*. I'd rather hear a standard "ring-ring-ring!!!" than a blaring rendition of something like "it's a small world." 'course, I'd rather bash my own foot with a hammer than listen to something like "it's a small world." Also, please to be obeying the "no cell phones at the desk" rule, and the unspoken addendum that cell phones should not be heard ringing at the desk. Sound off, people. *eyes the phone at the cubicle next to her* It's beeping once a minute, going "There's a message! Pay attention to me!!" *beep* >.> *beep* >.< two hours later... ah,silence. .... *beep* o.O how many phones in this blasted cube farm beep?? *eyes cube farm* I can't believe I work in a cubicle. It *is* better than a plain old desk with no cubicle, but nowhere near as good as an office. My cubicle has a post in it, though, and my desk hides behind that, so it's a little more private. Here, allow me to try to demonstrate: (image removed due to it looking crappy when posted) It is also the smallest cubicle in the office. Which actually suits me just fine. Except for the legroom. And lack of space for my paper. And the busted chair. (Yes, I am very, very, very bored. And it's almost a three-day weekend. And by this point, very few people are actually working anymore. ) Boy I hate IE. But the code is broken on 6 out of the 7 websites we use to sign new hires up for their benefits, and only - ONLY - works under IE. Since there's no point in having two browsers (though I may go to that for the convenience), I use IE7. And I hate it. I hate the fixed toolbars. I hate the lack of extensions. I hate the security holes. I hate the way it does tabs. I hate dealing with it's cookies/history/whatnot options. It *is* an improvement - in some ways - over IE6, but not enough. oO I rant, and find a plugin that addresses some of those issues. IE7Pro - free, and has things like adblock. Still not firefox, but it's a bit more useable now. Just proof that I should ramble on more often. *resists the urge to spin around in her chair* I wanna go hooooo~oome, don't have much to dooooo~~, can't bring myself to fiii~iiile, nobody really cares aaa~~~aanyway, supervisors already goooo~oone. Sooooo bored. Hoping nobody notices. So far, nobody has. Since nobody but me is really sure what I'm up to from one minute to the next, everyone assumes that whatever I'm up to is really important. It's kinda nice. I'm learning to take advantage of it again. *beep* ... damn phone... ... the two newbs across the cubicle wall from me are cooing over kid pictures. It's a low murmer of "aww, so cute, how adorable." etc, punctuated by occasional "OOH! *squeel* look at at that cute little *insert body part here*". Gag me. My break's not for 15 minutes. ..Wow. somehow the day is over. Yay!
I'm a little office supply scavenger. :) My poor little cubicle was... well, sad, really. But now it's getting better. (I even have a trash can). Needed a place to put papers = big red clip scrounged out of the supply room (oh, how I miss my supply room at the firm!) and a paperclip bent open to hold it to the cubicle wall. Suddenly - wall mounted paper clip. Needed a place to keep pencils = pencil cup made out of concentric rings of binder clips left over from a filing project. The top of my tower has become a place for spare files. My cubicle is just barely big enough for my computer, me, and a trash can (I can't even really fit my knees under the desk), but it's starting to look like someone works here, and not just somewhere I'm stuffed in a corner! even though I'm stuffed in a corner. It's really an improvement, though, just having somewhere to keep pens and paper. ^^ and from my cubicle, I can hear the claims adjusters. I wouldn't be a claims adjuster for any amount of money. I'm currently listening to one of their supervisors argue with someone about the need for an investigator to ... ya know, investigate a claim. No, Mrs. Concerned Parent, we can't just send a check. We don't even know if our insured is liable. We're not saying he isn't. We're not saying he is. We're not arguing with you one bit. We're not insulting you. But we do need someone to investigate the claim, to find out what happened, to investigate the policy, to see if it's even covered, and to tally this all up in a non-biased manner. Then we can get around to settlements and payouts and whatnot. But first we have to know what happened. No, I'm not angry with you. No- no, ma'am, I am not arguing with you. I agree with you. Yes - no, ma'am, I am not admitting liability. I can't do that without an investigation. No - yes, ma'am, someone will be investigating - yes, your vehicle too. We need to examine - I'm not arguing with you, ma'am! Yes, sir, as I was telling your wife, we need to investigate the incident, and review the policy. Yes, sir, it is probable that the driver was at fault. We still need to do an investigation. No - yes, sir - no, sir, I am not shouting at you. Sir, if you don't stop yelling at me I will terminate this call. Sir - yes, sir, that is the same information I told your wife. I am not trying to argue with you. We will conduct the investigation and then begin the settlement. Well, sir, that usually takes anywhere from 24 to 48 hours. Yes, sir, I tried to tell you that earlier. Yes, sir, I understand that you have bills. Yes, 48 hours. Yes, sir, I'm glad you think that's not so unreasonable. Yes, I understand - I would be concerned if it was my son too. For half an hour I listened to him. All he wanted to say was that they're not going to pay out without investigating, and an independant company will be coming to look at documents and vehicles and injuries within 48 hours of the incident. For half an hour, the woman, then her husband, screamed at him so loud that I could hear it through a phone handset, two cubicles away. This, people, is why I don't work customer service. But yes, the cubicle scavaging is working. The supply room is.. well, pathetic would be too generous a term. It rates a D- - just barely functional. I presume there are more supplies somewhere, behind a locked door I think. Getting them is a pain, though - I had to really justify getting a jar of sortkwik, a sticky substance you rub on your fingers to make it easier to sort paper. They cost about 75 cents apiece - I used to buy them for the firm. I hate to think of what i'd have to do to get a real pencil cup, or (heaven forbid) an inbox. (I stole the trash can and liner off the DO NOT GRAB shelf. I got tired of having to hunt down empty cubicles to do things like empty my two-hole punch. I think tomorrow I may try for a tape dispenser. Wish me luck.
*wave* hi blog world! Clawed the very bored here. Clawed the fairly well-paid, but Clawed the bored nonetheless. *hates getting up in the morning* Why can't I land a nice stay-at-home job? (the first person who mentions being a stay-at-home mom will be shot, strangled, fed his own internal organs, then impaled on a spike and left for the vultures.) On the subject of stay-at-home jobs, Finch and I had a talk about jobs and he told me that he wasn't too thrilled with his job either - he just didn't think he could get anything better. But he's going to look into other things (starting with a sunday paper and temp agencies) and so that problem should be getting better. I'm now full-time at my job (yay!) and got a raise (yay!) making this the most well-paying job I've had. I still spend most of my day filing, but at least I'm well-compensated. I do wish I could listen to my ipod, though - when I'm not filing, I do data entry, and that gets really dull without an ipod. TPTB, though, have a no music devices rule (which I can understand for 99% of the employees here - they have to answer calls and deal with insured/producers/customers - I work for an insurance company, BTW - so they can't be plugged into music. But I'm the 1% exception... I sit in my cubicle with nobody who's relying on talking to me, so I wouldn't be hindered by an ipod, damnit!! In a month I may start begging for it) so I sit at my desk/cubicle with nothing but notepad and ranting to you, dear reader, to distract me. (There's a no internet rule too. I'd be tempted to break that rule if my monitor didn't face towards the open cubicle doorway.) I haven't yet properly figured out how to post these posts without getting detected, but it's only a matter of time. I think I'm going to start cross-posting to my LJ. A lot of my friends have LJs exclusively now, and I don't know how many of them (you?) keep up with the blog. Besides, the comment system is better, and my entetation comment boxes have been largely broken for some time now. They still *kinda* work, but... it seems like the blogger comment services just stop working after a while. Now, I won't abandon the blog - I still like it better than LJ - but it doesn't hurt to drop a post on the journal too. (sides, I've started to get >.> looks from some of the communities I frequent because my LJ is empty. I think I'll fix that. If I'm feeling rich I may even buy an LJ account so that I can put up a custom layout. Maybe. Depends on how easy the cross-posting works.) Almost have all the boxes unpacked into our new place now. Yesterday afternoon I finally got Finch to help me with the massive pile in the spare bedroom (most of it was his), and that's really cleared up a lot. If I can do another hour of work in there, I should be able to get it pretty much completely cleaned up. That would be a definite improvement in my mood - not having that hanging over my head and bothering me would, I think, distinctly help me relax at the end of the day. It's just one of those things with me. It is interesting, trying to put things up in the spare bedroom - not only is it storage space for our spare stuff, it's also going to be Tweety's bedroom when she moves in, so it has to be catproof. I really want to try out softpaws on her - she's so bad with clawing at things like the furniture and carpets that I'm afraid if something like that doesn't work, I'll have to have her declawed. She ruins carpets by clawing at the edges, and not one single thing I've tried has worked to save my black chairs. Discipline doesn't work, spraying her with water doesn't work, no-scratch formulas on the chairs don't work (or the carpet either). Covering them with a blanket or a rug does work, but once she gets the blanket off/rug moved, she's right back at it. She's almost completely ruined the carpet in her bedroom at Finch's mother's house, and I'm hoping very much that she doesn't demand we replace it. I know declawing is cruel and unusual punishment for a cat, but if the destruction doesn't stop, it's that or nothing - we can't have her destroying rental property. (Yes, I've tried trimming her claws - unless we do it about every three days, it doesn't work. She'll spend *hours* sharpening her newly shortened claws back into spikes. And I can't make her stay still to let me or finch trim them - so far, only a groomer has been able to do it). If anyone has any other suggestions, let me know. I'm just about at my wits end with her. I love my kitty, but I also love not getting massive repair bills from my apartment complex. ^^ Finch's solution is to let her grow out of it, and to put something like cheesecloth (which would, he thinks, catch her claws and make her uncomfortable) on the chairs when we're not using them. I object on the grounds that I a)think it would look really, really tacky, and b) not work - she'd just drag the cheesecloth off, thinking it was something to play with. It's a solution akin to his idea of stapling nonskid stuff to the stairs at the old complex - it *sorta* worked for about one day, but the staples didn't staple completely, the stuff slid right off, and I spent all my time stepping on staples. And it looked ridiculous. Really, really ridiculous. *yawn* but I digress. as usual in my blog posts in the last few years. I used to pass along odd links, or quizes (though I still do those), or information on events, but... *shrug* I guess I have other priorities now. Oh, and to my dimwitted coworkers who were complaining the other day about going from a size 00 to a size 2 and now you're all depressed? DIAF. Please. Now. "OMG I'm like a size 2!!! now and I'm so fat! and my boyfriend said I was fat! in front of people at a buffet the other day and OMG!!! I can't believe it in high school I was a size 00 and now I try on those jeans and they like DON'T FIT! I like CANNOT believe it!!!!!111!11!1oneeleventy" Yeah, that makes me want to sit on you with my size 14 ass and grind your little empty-headed face into the carpet for a while. A size 2 is not anybody's definition of fat. In fact, unless you're under five feet tall, a size 8 or 10 is not anybody's definition of fat. (Using actual size references there - a friend of mine is 4'9" and overweight at a size 6-8. But she's a rare case. And falls under the 'under-five-feet-tall' thing.). You, oh coworker? You are about 5'4". Painfully ordinary. And nobody, not even your boyfriend, cares if you've 'ballooned' from a size 00 to a 2. In fact, you are probably more attractive (and healthier) at a 2 due to the fact that you barely have a waist, ass, or boobs and if you were any skinnier you could be without those features entirely. Really. Ask a guy if they prefer someone who can be called "skinny" or someone who can be called "lush". (Hint - most guys, at least the ones I've encountered, go for 'lush'.) Besides, one of the women... girls... you were complaining to? was giving you death glares. Why? because she (who you kept identifying at a friend) was *actually* overweight and I saw a weight-watchers calorie guide pinned to her cubicle, as well as a meeting flyer. My guess is that she would have liked to join me in ass-grinding your face and show you just *exactly* the difference between size 2 and overweight - and just how difficult it is a) come to terms with being large, and b) do something about it (if you're so inclined. To all the people out there who are large and enjoy it - I wish you many cookies of your favorite variety.) Oh, and the same goes for the actresses... extras... that were giving one of my friends (female, slightly large) the look of "What girl lets herself look like THAT". The next time (not that I think I'll EVER see you again, thank goodness) that you do that I'm going to tell her. Then you'll realize, as she shreds your size-4 figure, that she's not fat one little bit. She... well, she really could rip someone to pieces if she wanted to. Think "brick wall". Yes, she's twice your size. No, that's not a good thing (for you:) ).
I hate finch's job. He's not too fond of it, but he "likes it better than anything else he can do right now." He doesn't want something "dull and monotonous." He works for U-haul, making reservations. He gets paid a bit above minimum wage and then makes commission. He gets to work from home. Except he barely makes enough reservations per hour to earn enough to make the job decent, he complains constantly about the idiots that call in, and he works from 5:30-1:30, Sunday-Wednesday and Friday. Yes. That means that he's up before I am, off before I am, and has to be asleep at 9:30. Also, since he works Sundays (and holidays), no weekend trips for us or late Saturday nights out. And, since I work a job with semi-regular hours, that means I get to see him for a few hours in the evenings, he's always awake and working when I get up. He's hit that after-work tiredness when I get home and doesn't want to do much. If the trend continues, I can look forward to: Waking up alone. Having to be silent around the apartment because he's working from home. Coming home to find him apathetically poking his computer or napping. Making my own food. Eating by myself while he does whatever. Doing any housework that needs to be done. Getting one hour, maybe two, with him actually energetic and willing to do something. Being quiet after that because he's asleep. Or going to sleep at 9:30 with him, thus getting a scant three or four hours total awake and not at work all day. Plus, he doesn't really seem to want to put too much effort into unpacking any of the boxes making the spare bedroom impassable. Since half of it is his and most of the rest is decorative stuff (which I promised I'd make a joint effort to get him involved in)... nonetheless, anything else that needs to be unpacked and put away? Me. He put his computer desk together and unpacked his clothes. The rest of his stuff is an untidy explosion, and it's getting on my nerves. So, add unpacking boxes to the list of things I do during the day. And did I mention he wants to try to go back to school this semester? Remember the three-four hours a night I said I got with him? Drop that to zero. Did I further mention that we want to get married in a year? Oh, yes, real relationship builder here. Let's have a job that works strange hours, not make an effort to do joint activities or help around the house. I can understand if he's starting to get tired when I get home - that does mark hour twelve of his day. But for the love of deities, he's off at 1:30!! There's a nice four-hour gap between him getting off and me getting home. He could do *something* useful. (oh, I'm sorry. today he ran the dishwasher during those four hours.) yeah, not feeling very worthwhile here. Friends are bored? By all means, they can come over and LAN at the drop of a hat, don't bother checking with the girl! Fiancee wants to spend some time at the jacuzzi at 8:30? Nope, time to get ready for bed. Which is an hour of some private time, a short shower, reading his email, and then reading a book until he relaxes. Girl comes home from a long day at work tired and hungry to the boy who loves to cook and has been home all afternoon? "Oh, I guess you want to eat. I ate already, you should probably make yourself something." Girl thinks they should spend some time unpacking? "I don't really know what goes where - I'm not good at unpacking." Sorry, just need to vent. I feel like an appliance that just can hang around the house and interact with him when he's not doing anything else. At least tonight he didn't leave the room and turn out the only light that was on while I still sat at my desk.
Finch pointed out during an earlier discussion that I hadn't updated my blog with a real update in... a very long time. So here I am, writing a rant. Or a mini-rant. Or a ramble. Or something, not sure what. Well, as my last post (which was a real update, I swear!!) stated, I am engaged. Engaged since June 6th. No wedding date set, though we're optimistically looking at spring (I'm not holding my breath). I'll let you all know as soon as I know, of course. Shut up Clawed. I will too let them know. We're also back in phoenix, this time for permanent. Left Vegas behind for bigger and better things - also things with better paying jobs and lower rent. Also ASU. Yay ASU. Finch will be attending MCC (Mesa Community College) and I, barring unforeseen problems, will be going to ASU. (Hence not holding breath about wedding date). Currently jobhunting, I have one part-time job that I should be able to keep after classes start and am looking for a second, hopefully that I can also keep once classes start. Finch seems to think that I can pull off forty hours a week when my classes begin, I'm not so sure. I don't think he realizes just how difficult a science major is. Yes, dearest, music degrees are hard too and require a lot of classwork... but your classes are one credit hour apiece for a reason. Mine are three, even four - this means that three or four of my classes have the workload of twelve of yours, and what exactly does that say about our relative majors? (He also doesn't believe me about engineering classes - I warned him that they were going to be really difficult compared to what he's done before and he kinda shrugged me off. Oh well, he'll figure it out eventually, and I can always help him with his homework.) Right now things kinda suck. Not a big suck, but enough of a little suck to actually be a suck. We're staying at his mother's house and not getting our own place until August 1st - which could be worse, but could be better. I would have preferred to move in this weekend, but we don't have to pay rent where we are now and that's a good thing. We do, fortunately, get a break on our first month's rent (as in we don't have to pay it) and they waived most of the fees and whatnot for us (yay! our meager supply of money just might hold out until the paychecks start rolling in again) so we're essentially moving in for free. This makes a happy clawed. But that's in two weeks. Until then... we're here at his mother's house and it's interesting. Now, the situation could be worse. He doesn't think so, but staying with the friend he originally intended for us to stay with would have driven me up the wall. The place is a disaster and there's two small children that belong to the actual owners of the house. Also, no extra bedroom, we'd only have couch space and it would only have been for a week... yeah. Clawed would be a little ball of "I just wanna go home!!!" 'course, I'm right now a little ball of 'just wanna go home!' but I can stick this out. At least his mother is gone most of the day (she works two jobs). ... call me crazy, but this woman's nuts. She works two jobs and is hardly ever actually in her home and awake. There are days she's barely here for an hour before she has to go to sleep. She's got two decent jobs and still has barely enough money to pay off her rent, bills, and massive debt - and has barely anything to show for it. Her furniture and clothes are years out of date, her car is nice but not great, she doesn't take trips or have any major 'nice things.' Yet she pours hundreds of dollars every month into credit card bills (she won't file for bankruptcy - it would "ruin her perfect credit." Never mind that she is literally hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt.) But I digress. This woman's... nuts. (Clawed - you said that already.) She and Finch have a strained relationship at best. She has two large dogs ... (I would like to say right now that I am not a dog person. They're just not my thing. They're loud, messy,and have no sense of personal space. A cat, even the clingiest cat in the world, recognizes that space is important. A dog doesn't. They must be right in your lap, drooling and shedding - mostly drooling, which I don't appreciate - and any second not in your direct company is a second wasted. Big dogs, little dogs - they're just too messy and needy. Mostly messy. Did I mention the drool?) ... that she treats better than her son, not to mention spends more time and attention on. When Finch is here, it's only to keep her company. She seems to want to get into some kind of close relationship with him, but not for the sake of a relationship with him. She either wants things (money) or is lonely. I think the latter equally as much as the former, as she certainly doesn't seem to be too interested in his well-being, except how it reflects on and benefits her. Currently there's a sort of strained peace, but each day seems to get a little... tighter. I know it's my presence that's currently the lid on the situation. But she doesn't like me. Oh, she's not overt about it, and it's not an outright hate or anything. I'm just not what she would have picked out for him. For one, I'm not like her. For another, I don't like her. Her interactions with me just have that air of subtle disapproval. But, at least for the moment, she tries to get along, and I think she honestly enjoys having other people around. It's obvious that we're only all together because of circumstances though, and I think she realizes that she screwed herself out of a good relationship with Finch, and by extension us as a couple, by her actions a long time ago. (Which is not my story to tell, so I won't). So between his disapproving mother, having two large dogs in a small house, the uncomfortable bed and tiny room (we don't really go in there except to sleep), I can't wait to have our own place. But it's better than our other options. But we do have an apartment to move into on the first, and so that's good. And we're back in a place where we both have friends. *yawn* sleepy now. Continue later.
so yah, lotsa news. Will post it all later, when I can write it up. Just want to say one tiny thing now. It's official. I'm getting married!!!
Proof that Winamp (and my computer Khim) has a sick sense of humor. It's always been posessed on my Khim, playing inappropriately appropriate songs at the wrong (or right) time, combining song/skin combinations that make my brane break, but when I used it for a stupid internet meme... This is courtesy of AzDiva. It's all your fault, dear. 1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc.). 2. Put it on shuffle. 3. Press play. 4. For every question, type the name of the song that's playing. 5. When you get to a new question, press the next button. 6. Don't lie and try to pretend you're cool (it will compromise the divination). ;-) Opening Credits: It's Been Awhile - Staind Waking Up: One Week - Barenaked Ladies First Day At School: The Oath - Final Fantasy 8 Falling In Love: A Question of Lust - Depeche Mode Fight Song: Dance in my Dreams - DDR 3rd Mix Breaking Up: Don't You Forget About me - Simple Minds Prom: Away from Me - Evanescence Life: Everybody's Fool - Evanescence Making babies: Enjoy the Silence - Depeche Mode Mental Breakdown: Rain - Yokko Kano (Cowboy Bebop Soundtrack) Driving: She Hates Me - Puddle of Mudd Flashback: Remember Me - DDR Soundtrack Getting back together: Gotta Knock a Little Harder - Yokko Kano (Cowboy Bebop Soundtrack) Wedding: Broken - Seether Final Battle: Like Lovers - Texas Death Scene: Twilight/ I love you - Electric Light Orchestra Funeral Song: When you were young - The Killers End Credits: The Gambler - Kenny Rogers
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