Dear Guy Who Sits in Front of Me in Evidence Class:
Thank you for wearing that really classy t-shirt today. Yep, the one with the beach scene and a bikini-clad blonde on the back. I really liked that I could not look from the professor back to my computer screen without seeing said bikini girl. I am so glad you sit directly in front of me. And I am glad you acted so selflessly when you purchased that shirt, realizing that everyone except you would have the pleasure of looking at the back of that shirt all day long. So, in honor of you exhibiting such fine principles, I think you should go ahead and keep that shirt in your drawer, or on your floor, or even hang it on your wall from now on. Then you can enjoy the view that the rest of us enjoyed today.
Sincerely,
C.
In other school news, my professor who I do not really understand but who I have for two classes called on me yesterday. In both classes. Yes people, twice in one day. Bad luck. My other professor turned 80-something this week. And he brought Costco cookies to class. So obviously, he wins for professor of the semester. Also, he makes great comments like this: "We all build b*mbs sometimes." And since I like him, and do not want to be questioned by the FBI about his very innocent statement that I just posted on the worldwide web, let me emphasize his patriotism ...
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Friday, September 19, 2008
Yellow Pajama Pants ...
This story began innocently enough, with me buying a baby gift of all things. That required that I go to Old Navy and Barnes & Noble for my traditional book-wrapped-in-a-blanket standby. (I go with what I know people. I do not know the proper size and corresponding seasonal attire for your adorable bundle of joy. I do know books and blankets, however. I know them really, really well.) Anyway, after spending some quality time in the children's book and clothing sections (I may not know what size to buy, but that does not stop me from looking at the cuteness of it all) I apparently mistook myself for a Person With An Income, because $100 later, I have not only a fabulous book and the blanket to wrap it in, but a jacket, five shirts (ON SALE) and two other books. And a pair of pajama pants. (Mom, stop sighing.) Because along with books and blankets, I know pajama pants. And although I already have red ones with white stars and yellow ones with blue stars and blue ones with yellow stars and pink ones with pink diamonds and one red pair with stripes and a white pair with pineapples, I did not have any yellow and white striped ones. And I am always on the lookout for just such a pair. So I bought them. On sale, in my defense. (And also in my defense, today I found a hole in my favorite ones, the red ones with pink stripes.) And Mom and Dad, this does not mean I do not need another pair on Christmas Eve. I will always need another pair on Christmas Eve. (Clearly I value them. I have the pajama pants from the last five Christmases.) And (sort of) on this topic, I am happy to report that with Halloween candy now in stores, I can officially start listening to Christmas music in one month and 11 days ...
Friday, September 12, 2008
Dear Frontier Airlines ...
Thank you for infuriating me. Lately I have been pretty happy about the state of the world. (Well, not the state of the entire world. Just the state of my own world, excluding the reading assignments and interview issues that I choose to ignore.) Anyway, my happiness had sapped me of the sarcasm required to write interesting blog posts. But you, Frontier Airlines, have solved this problem, for which my two remaining readers will I am sure be very grateful.
Today I visited your counter at the airport to redeem a travel voucher. I had the necessary flight information, and I just needed one of your helpful employees to take the voucher and book the flight. Simple, really. So I sauntered up to your counter at about 1:30 p.m. and found your employee roping off the line. I asked him where I could redeem my voucher. He told me to wait until 2 p.m. I said, "Seriously?!" He said yes. I said, "You cannot just help me?" Or something along those lines. Let me note my tone of voice: incredulous. Not mean. I did not insult him, or even yell. I just asked my questions. He would not budge however, and walked away. So then I got annoyed. So I called Frontier Airlines to complain about the man and to try to make the reservation on the phone. The very helpful girl with the same name as my sister nearly restored my faith in Frontier. She made all the arrangements, so the man only had to take my voucher and give me a ticket. Simple. I wish.
I went back to the line at 1:50. A few other people had arrived. The Frontier man had come back to his post, too, but refused to help anyone until 2 p.m. Now, I should note that Frontier has TWO lines here. One for regular passengers. One for special passengers. (In Frontier lingo, "Summit" members.) I did not fit either category. I wanted to become a passenger, yes, but had not yet fulfilled that goal. So I chose the shortest line. After helping the man in front of me, the Frontier man asked me if I was a Summit member. I said no, I just needed my ticket. He said to go to the other line. So I explained to the first man in the other line that I had been there for 30 minutes, and could I just go in front. He said yes. Well, conveniently, there were NO ACTUAL SUMMIT MEMBERS in line. So I was once again next in line. (Yes, just like "Meet the Parents.") I went back to the Frontier man. He proceeded to tell me that he would not help me because I had argued with him before. EXCUSE ME?! Just what did he expect me to do when he told me to wait for 30 minutes?! Curtsy and thank him for giving me an opportunity to quietly collect my thoughts about the state of the world?! So I just said "Sorry, sir, could you please just get my ticket?" He finally agreed, and I proceeded to answer his questions with one-word answers, occasionally adding a haughty "sir" for good measure. I did not tell him that yes, I planned to send a letter to Frontier to note his role in the failure of our airline system, and that yes, I really did stare at his name badge while he booked my ticket and I wrote down all 15 letters of his unpronounceable last name, and that yes, I noticed that his lanyard had only two pins while his coworker had nearly 20, so clearly I am not the first to find his service despicable.
And Frontier, while I am complaining, I would be remiss to leave out my annoyance at your really cheesy theme. No one cares about the name of the wild animal on the tail of the plane ...
Sincerely,
C.
Today I visited your counter at the airport to redeem a travel voucher. I had the necessary flight information, and I just needed one of your helpful employees to take the voucher and book the flight. Simple, really. So I sauntered up to your counter at about 1:30 p.m. and found your employee roping off the line. I asked him where I could redeem my voucher. He told me to wait until 2 p.m. I said, "Seriously?!" He said yes. I said, "You cannot just help me?" Or something along those lines. Let me note my tone of voice: incredulous. Not mean. I did not insult him, or even yell. I just asked my questions. He would not budge however, and walked away. So then I got annoyed. So I called Frontier Airlines to complain about the man and to try to make the reservation on the phone. The very helpful girl with the same name as my sister nearly restored my faith in Frontier. She made all the arrangements, so the man only had to take my voucher and give me a ticket. Simple. I wish.
I went back to the line at 1:50. A few other people had arrived. The Frontier man had come back to his post, too, but refused to help anyone until 2 p.m. Now, I should note that Frontier has TWO lines here. One for regular passengers. One for special passengers. (In Frontier lingo, "Summit" members.) I did not fit either category. I wanted to become a passenger, yes, but had not yet fulfilled that goal. So I chose the shortest line. After helping the man in front of me, the Frontier man asked me if I was a Summit member. I said no, I just needed my ticket. He said to go to the other line. So I explained to the first man in the other line that I had been there for 30 minutes, and could I just go in front. He said yes. Well, conveniently, there were NO ACTUAL SUMMIT MEMBERS in line. So I was once again next in line. (Yes, just like "Meet the Parents.") I went back to the Frontier man. He proceeded to tell me that he would not help me because I had argued with him before. EXCUSE ME?! Just what did he expect me to do when he told me to wait for 30 minutes?! Curtsy and thank him for giving me an opportunity to quietly collect my thoughts about the state of the world?! So I just said "Sorry, sir, could you please just get my ticket?" He finally agreed, and I proceeded to answer his questions with one-word answers, occasionally adding a haughty "sir" for good measure. I did not tell him that yes, I planned to send a letter to Frontier to note his role in the failure of our airline system, and that yes, I really did stare at his name badge while he booked my ticket and I wrote down all 15 letters of his unpronounceable last name, and that yes, I noticed that his lanyard had only two pins while his coworker had nearly 20, so clearly I am not the first to find his service despicable.
And Frontier, while I am complaining, I would be remiss to leave out my annoyance at your really cheesy theme. No one cares about the name of the wild animal on the tail of the plane ...
Sincerely,
C.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Yellow Shoes and White Buildings ...
What I learned from my trip to Target yesterday:
1. I should have purchased the yellow shoes. So I might buy some online instead.
2. Vanilla is a good flavor for toothpaste, soap and lotion. Not for deodorant.
3. Too many trail mix combinations involve raisins. Who likes raisins anyway?! Not me.
What I learned from trying to think of a topic for this blog post:
1. I am a boring blogger lately. Maybe always. So ...
2. I should end with a photo of me and my lovely friends and family at a famous place ...
Yep, my parents came to town. And we all visited the president. Sort of.
1. I should have purchased the yellow shoes. So I might buy some online instead.
2. Vanilla is a good flavor for toothpaste, soap and lotion. Not for deodorant.
3. Too many trail mix combinations involve raisins. Who likes raisins anyway?! Not me.
What I learned from trying to think of a topic for this blog post:
1. I am a boring blogger lately. Maybe always. So ...
2. I should end with a photo of me and my lovely friends and family at a famous place ...
Yep, my parents came to town. And we all visited the president. Sort of.Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Sarah Palin Tall
Every time I hear the name "Sarah Palin" I think of the book "Sarah, Plain and Tall" from the elementary school days. I cannot remember anything about the book except the title, but I think I might need to revisit it just to satisfy my curiosity. Especially if McCain-Palin win. I really do not want to spend the next four years thinking about the title of a book I cannot remember. But, my memory issues aside, I think I like Palin. So far, I like her because:
1. I like surprises.
2. I really, really like the thought of Hillary not being the ultimate ceiling-shatterer. (For the record, I do NOT vote for people because of their gender. I just like this woman better than the last one to campaign for high office.)
3. I am intrigued by the names of her children. Obviously she has creativity. I like that. (I could be biased here. I am pretty sure my Mom almost named one of us Willow.)
4. If I am choosing vacation spots, I choose Hawaii. But Alaska wins on survival skills. And being tough. And aware of reality. (But we must be pretty serious about this change thing ... candidates from Alaska AND Hawaii in one election. We definitely cannot get farther from DC than those options ...)
5. She is not Mike Huckabee. (Yep, never got over that one ...)
P.S. I know, I know. Not a policy on my list. But I can write whatever I want on my blog. And I am not in the mood to write about policy. So there.
1. I like surprises.
2. I really, really like the thought of Hillary not being the ultimate ceiling-shatterer. (For the record, I do NOT vote for people because of their gender. I just like this woman better than the last one to campaign for high office.)
3. I am intrigued by the names of her children. Obviously she has creativity. I like that. (I could be biased here. I am pretty sure my Mom almost named one of us Willow.)
4. If I am choosing vacation spots, I choose Hawaii. But Alaska wins on survival skills. And being tough. And aware of reality. (But we must be pretty serious about this change thing ... candidates from Alaska AND Hawaii in one election. We definitely cannot get farther from DC than those options ...)
5. She is not Mike Huckabee. (Yep, never got over that one ...)
P.S. I know, I know. Not a policy on my list. But I can write whatever I want on my blog. And I am not in the mood to write about policy. So there.
