Seen on Saturday at Borders in Emeryville

A woman walking out of the store reading the last page of the new Harry Potter Book. Are you kidding me? How many hours have you wasted just to cheat? She should have saved her money and just read it in the book store. I don't see the point of sitting there and reading the whole book if you already know the end. So lame.

Pointless Waste of Time

So I was going off recently about how I only seem to find out about shows at the Paramount Theater in Oakland after the fact. Usually after it's sold our or it's the day of the show. Christina thought I was lame because there had to be an email list or something. She actually even sent the link to me. So this morning while checking all the music venue calendars in the area I remembered about the Paramount and actually clicked on the button that said sign up for alerts. After spending a few minutes typing all of my info in it sends me back a red alert. Apparently I already have an account? Oh, right, I did buy tickets once. After having my password emailed to me I went in to see what my profile actually had. Guess what? I've been signed up for the notices this whole time! I'd say it's working out really well and that's why I have heard about all the shows and spent money there.

Any old bandwagon will do

It finally happened yesterday. While walking by someone's desk at work I overheard the words "have you heard about the secret?" My head whipped around to see who was talking to who and then pretended not to be listening. I only managed to hear the part about how it was a book before I was out of ear shot. What is wrong with people? No, I don't want to know. I used to work with someone who was into self help books and she was a nightmare. I'll stick with my meaningless trashy magazines and Regis and Kelly, thanks.

It's always something

Just when I thought that the house was totally in order it happens again, something to rain on your parade. I finally called the appliance repair place and they came out on Friday to fix the stove for the landlord, 2 new burners. All that anger and frustration for a half hours work plus parts. Then yesterday we get home from an all day adventure in the city and the neighbors in the front house have some sort of small dog in their back yard, which makes it our front yard. No big deal. I'm sure it's somebody visiting or something. All I have to do is close the gate so the dog doesn't get into our back yard anymore. Everything is just wonderful.....until I realize that every time the small dog tries to bark a shrill, high pitched whistle goes off to shut the dog up, but is actually worse than the dog barking. One small yip and we then get 10-15 seconds of the whistle that pierces like nobody's business. As I'm writing this I have come to realize that the whistle is going off without the dog barking. Oh good, only a few more hours of my complaining before Clay gets irritated enough to go and do something about it. Just another relaxing Sunday at home.

Dressing Like Children

Why is Dakota Fanning in ALL of the new Marc Jacobs ads? Seriously, how old is she? Every time I turn a page to reveal her, I get irritated all over again.

Customer Service

How did I end up receiving mail from the Viceroy Hotel, where they greet you by your name at all times, addressed to Rocky Morton?

Spring

It's been a rough month and I haven't really had anything petty to complain about. Well that's never true but I didn't feel like sitting down and sharing. Apparently there are 2 of you out there that have requested something so last night on my walk home from Bart on College Ave. a few gentleman caught my eye.

I guess it's officially spring when there is a guy sitting on a bench brushing his teeth like it's no big deal. Perhaps he just finished dinner? While still contemplating that I had to wade through the crowd outside of Zachary's. Why do people waiting outside of a restaurant pretend they are in a lobby instead of a sidewalk and then refuse to clear a path? Dirty looks for everyone. That's when I noticed the crowd of "bikers". Really it was just old yuppie guys with motorcycles, one of which was plush, and I mean that literally. Every surface was covered with a short pile fabric. If you didn't want to get off the couch then why did you embarrass yourself with fur?

What joy will today hold?