safety and sanity

I "worked" today. I use the quotation marks deliberately, as working on Christmas Eve day in my office entails dragging your butt in at 10am and leaving at 12 noon for lunch, conveniently taking all of your stuff with you.

I got invited to join some colleagues for a dim sum lunch. Yum. Better yet, someone else offered to drive, which is always a bonus in our office of scarce parking. Normally, if you go out for lunch, when you return you'll wind up parking out where Jesus lost his sandals.

However, en route to lunch today I realized this colleague was a major offender of one of my pet peeves: refusal to wear a seatbelt. After minutes of listening to her car beep incessantly, reminding her to buckle up, I finally asked if she was ever going to do it. Without a word, she sighed, reached over, unbuckled my seatbelt, and jammed it into her buckle.

Great.

So let's recap. Before: annoying noise and a lack of safety for her. Now: no more annoying noise, but a clear lack of safety for me. Improvement? Perhaps not.

When I asked her why she wouldn't wear her seatbelt, she said it was because she didn't like the feel of it. (Oh yeah, well do you like the feeling of crashing through your windshield?) This was reminiscent of the other colleague who refused to use her turning signals, one of my other pet peeves. When I asked her about it, she said she just didn't like the sound of them. (Oh yeah, well do you like the sound of your car getting rammed by someone who has no idea which way you're turning?)

Please buckle up and use your turning signal wherever you head to this Christmas. Stay safe. And try not to push me over the edge. Just this once, please, 'cause it's Christmas and all.

foiled by foil

I attended the ballet this afternoon. I'll steer away from complaining about hordes of people taking the subway downtown to see the Santa Claus Parade. I'll also steer away from complaining about the Santa Claus Parade itself.

This post is about gum. More specifically, the fact that it is now pretty much exclusively packaged in the noisiest foil packaging ever. What happened to the quieter paper packaging? I miss that packaging.

Now, in the interest of full disclosure, I have to say that I hate gum. I hate seeing people chew it. I hate HEARING people chew it. I hate it when people talk to me while they are chewing it. I hate hearing people snap and pop gum. I find it cheap and tacky and I use it to judge people. Don't hate. We all have our things and this is mine. I'm sure you have skeletons in the closet too. (Have I posted about this hatred before. I might have. Who can remember?)

Today at the ballet, everyone seemed to need gum approximately 5 minutes after the beginning of the production or 5 minutes after the end of the two intermissions. (OMG, there is a Dentyne Ice commercial on right now. First visual is a piece of gum popping out of foil. Princess has just kissed frog with fresh breath. Gum is haunting me. grrr) Why they couldn't manage to pull out the plastic and foil package during the 15 minutes of intermission (x 2) is beyond me. Do you have any idea how loud and annoying those gum packages are while you are hearing Chopin and watching two dancers dance a Jerome Robbins piece? Where have the manners gone? At the very least, they could have waited for some clapping during the piece and quickly taken a piece then. Selfish.


SunnyShine
_________________

RainyBow note: You have most definitely posted about this before. I, on the other hand, am in a permanent state of gum DEFCON 1, on alert with maximum readiness to fight random gum cravings. I normally carry 4-5 packs of gum, with a full array of flavours from fruity to minty. Most days I'm good with just Chiclets Sours, the greatest gum ever invented (except that I don't love the weird blue flavour, and I'll actually open the packages to ensure I buy the ones with the fewest blues).

My most similar (and way less rational) pet peeve is with people who eat tomatoes like they're apples. You know, those people who'll bite into a tomato and let the juice run down their chin? Ick.

dry clean only is a scam

I often wonder if there is some sort of cash exchange between clothes manufacturers and dry cleaners. Are dry cleaners a mafioso type business where they threaten and strong-arm other businesses into doing their bidding? How else to explain the dry clean only label on practically everything I own?

For the record, I don't dry clean anything. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. The few times I have actually taken something to a dry cleaner, they managed to ruin it. The last time was about 6 years ago and I haven't been back since.

I put everything in the washing machine. The velour sweat pants I'm wearing have been put in the washer and dryer regularly for the past two years. The label says dry clean only. The feather duvet on my bed has been put in the washing machine twice a year since I got it a few years ago. The label says dry clean only. My winter coat of 6 years goes into the washing machine, faux fur and all. The faded label says dry clean only.

None of these dry clean only items have been damaged. To be fair, I have a front-loading washing machine and they are gentler than the top-loading ones. Though, when I lived in an apartment, I used the top-loader on the gentle cycle and nothing ever happened to my dry clean only items.

What to make of this? This is fear mongering, dry cleaner style. Lol.

SunnyShine
________________

RainyBow note: I think it's also a big CYA move in the litigious-happy US of A. You know, so nobody sues a manufacturer for $3M when he or she washes a shirt and the collar comes out a teensy bit wrinkly. I'm laughing while I write this, but remember the McDonald's coffee debacle? Oh, to be a lawyer with that wrinkly-collared shirt that doesn't say "dry clean only."

make the noise stop

This weekend, Rainy and I attended both a book reading and a play. We're geeks. We admit it.

The reading event had five award-winning authors, who are up for a national prize, reading passages from their nominated books. We arrived fairly early and were close to the front of the line. This was good planning as the line up behind us was quite long and snaked around several times. As you would expect, the age of crowd at this event was skewed older - 50s, 60s. This would lead you to conclude that the people were orderly and polite when the doors opened and it was time to find a seat. You would be wrong. We practically got stampeded to death by seniors trying to decide between this seat and that seat. It was a little crazy. We settled into our seats and watched the scene around us - lady wearing a carpet blouse, girl with long red hair tied back with three or four scrunchies of different colours and a head band of yet another colour and crazy nike shoes with holes in the soles, author with thinning hair combed in an odd manner, people fighting for seats. Good times. People watching is always enjoyable.

Then, the noise started. The guy directly behind us decided he needed to tap out a tune on the book he was holding. This was not soft, barely audible tapping, this was LOUD, thundering tapping. It was so loud and annoying, I could hear it over the seat mayhem and loud overhead music. I was hoping he'd tap for only a few seconds and then stop. Nope. The tapping went on and on. Mercifully, it stopped when his friends showed up or the event started....can't remember which.

Then came the intermission. This time, the instrument of choice was an empty water bottle. I thought the book tapping was annoying but the bottle tapping was worse. I was starting to feel homicidal. He must have heard us complaining about it and moved down the row to annoy other people.

As annoying as that was, at least he didn't make noise during the actual event. This brings me to the play this afternoon. We saw a fantastic play that was enhanced by the running commentary of the two teenagers behind us. When they weren't laughing, they were talking or shouting out. At the beginning of the play, the woman beside me shushed them. It didn't work. I resigned myself to the noise cause there's no talking to teenagers. You might as well talk to a brick wall.

Of course, they weren't the only ones enhancing the experience. The woman behind us started eating a chocolate bar - or some sort of food in a noisy package - right when the second act began. She could have eaten it during the 15 minute intermission but she decided to save it for the action. She put it away for a while and then brought it back out during the climax of the play.

I think I need to be a royal or Bill Gates or someone who can go to private readings/screenings/openings etc. I bet they don't have to put up with the noise of the riff raff.

SunnyShine

the simple hook

Women are forever complaining about the wait for the bathroom, cleanliness of the bathroom, lack of bathrooms, etc. I have a new complaint to add.

Why can't people install hooks in the bathroom stalls? How much can a hook cost? I hate going into a stall with a bag or coat and having to put them on the floor. Sometimes it's possible to throw a coat over the stall door or balance your bag on the toilet paper holder but more often than not, the floor is the only thing available. Any guesses as to how clean the floor of a public bathroom is?

SunnyShine
______________

RainyBow note: I don't know if I've mentioned this, but my parents are alarmists. They're the kind of people who see something on TV or read it in a magazine and immediately think it will happen to them or their family and friends. And so they always call me to warn me of the evils of everyday life. My favourite was the day they called to tell me that I should always call the cab company and get them to send me a cab because 60 Minutes said that sometimes the cabs you get off the street aren't legit and might rip you off and leave you by the side of the road, naked and crying. Or something like that.

But back to the point of my story... one of the calls I got a couple of years back was regarding a 20/20 show about germs. The fact that I actually remember this (there have been a large volume of alarmist calls) means it actually was quite alarming. The 20/20 people did a floor test in a regular bathroom and found two million bacteria per square inch, about 200 times higher than a clean surface. Ugh.

Then they did a test of the bottom of women's purses and found fecal bacteria on 30% of them.

Talk to my mom and dad. We need the hooks.

8 items or less

I went to the grocery store this afternoon to get the ingredients to make lasagne. (I make a delicious lasagne if I do say so myself.) I timed my outing specifically to end up at the store when most people would be home stuffing themselves with turkey. It was busier than I expected but not so bad.

I gathered the things I needed and proceeded to the 8 items or less line. Not surprisingly, the person in front of me had a cart full of stuff. This drives me crazy. I can look the other way when there are 9 items or even 11 items (I don't much like that either but I'm not going to lose sleep over it) but a full cart is unacceptable.

Now here's the problem. The cashier will never say anything to the person with the excess items so it is left up to the people standing behind to say something. Even when you do say something about it, the cashier will never back you up and tell the person to go to another line. Invariably the person who is going through with half a cart doesn't give a s**t in the first place so saying something serves no purpose other than pissing them off. It's a no-win situation.

I actually saw two people get into a fist fight because of this and the police had to be called. A guy was going through with a cart overflowing with food just before a long weekend. When the guy behind him said something, he got punched. Delightful.

Why have them in the first place? If no one is going to enforce the rule, what's the point? They only provide false hope to those of us who have a few items.

SunnyShine

how much does a helicopter and helipad combo cost?

A new NHL season is beginning and there's hockey fever in the air. For me, there's only hockey hatred.

You see, I live in the downtown core, and my route home from work passes by our hockey arena. The traffic going into the city on game nights is insanity. It's not just people who are going to the game, it's also people who are going to a bar close by. Yes, apparently if you're going to a bar to watch the game, you have to be at one that's in the vicinity of the arena. Maybe the excitement is inversely proportionate with the distance to the actual ice. You know, like e is to the power of x when d is.... and so on.

While I have to admit that I don't understand the thrill of the game, it's kind of cool to me that so many people find joy in a bunch of guys on skates pushing a small, heavy object around on a small patch of ice. I just wish they could find a way to do it without causing my commute to grind to a complete standstill. Or that someone would purchase me a helicopter and helipad.

RainyBow

_______________________________

SunnyShine note: I hate hockey. I hate traffic. Imagine how I feel about hockey-related traffic.

you need to get a pen

I ordered in tonight 'cause I'm tired and too lazy to cook. I had an early morning yesterday (story for another time), a long day today, and an insanely long drive home. Tomorrow morning, I have to get up at 5 so I can fly to another city for an all day meeting and then fly home again tomorrow night. I don't know why I feel the need to justify this. Whatever.

Whenever someone knocks on my door, all hell breaks loose here. The dogs start barking and freaking out and I have to open the door the least amount possible so I can slide through and go outside. It's annoying and difficult.

The delivery guy arrived tonight and I did my whole dance of trying to get out the door while holding back the dogs so they don't run out to attack him. (Princess would have no interest in attacking someone because it would require effort but Jethro would take a bite out of someone if he felt he needed to. Of course, he might have been distracted by the chicken but I am digressing.)

Anyway, I manage to get outside so I can sign the credit card slip and the guy tells me that I need to get a pen because he doesn't have one. FRAK.

When you know someone is going to pay with a credit card, why don't you have a pen? This drives me nuts. The last time it happened, I told the driver I didn't have a pen either. Honestly, this would make me stop ordering from this establishment permanently.

Conveniently, they have one of those 'tell us about our service' online surveys. I told them all right.

SunnyShine

______________
RainyBow note: You've just touched on one of my biggest pet peeves: people who steal my pens. They come to my desk for a meeting, they bring their book to take notes, but they don't bring anything to write with. The next thing I know they're "borrowing" one of mine. Then I can never find it again and when I'm looking to write something down, I'm screwed.

Now it's not like my pens are worth $2B each or anything, but they're a tool I kinda need to do my job. Pen stealers suck.

the busy signal will drive me to drink

When was the last time you heard a busy signal? In this age of voice mail and call waiting, you would think the busy signal was a relic of the past. Not so much.

A good friend of mine refuses to get either call waiting or voice mail. Couple this with the fact that she can gab for hours a time, and you get the permanent busy signal. It holds a special place on my list of pet peeves, believe me.

The problem with the busy signal is that it feels so final and you have no recourse. Voice mail allows you to leave a message and then go about your business. Even if the person you're calling is on the phone, you can leave a message. Lines with call waiting but no voice mail at least give you the illusion that someone may answer or that voice mail may kick in. Still feels much better than the busy signal.

The busy signal could be used to torture me. When I call and get the busy signal, I go a little crazy. I think I might have busy signal ocd. I find myself calling back regularly like one of those crazy stalker people you see on tv. It's quite unsettling. Just when I think I'm bigger than the busy signal ocd, I realize I'm not and I just have to try one more time. It's not even like I have anything important to talk about. I just want to get through. I have a problem. I can admit it.

SunnyShine

________________

RainyBow note: Oh oh OH. You have no idea how crazy this stuff makes me. My parents refuse to get call waiting and I try to call them for hours some nights (and I'm not exaggerating). And then they wonder why I "never" call and my mom leaves me messages that say only "It's your mother and I love you" to try to shame me into starting the whole cycle again. I love parental guilt trips. Fantastic.

They won't buy a cell phone either. They have a cottage in the middle of nowhere and they go to it for weeks at a time. This cottage has no landline and neither one of them will get a cell phone, so there is no way to reach these people in case of an emergency. And then they freak out and don't sleep when I drive somewhere on my own at night. Hey, at least I have some way of reaching people in case of an emergency.

I swear this isn't normal.

the rules of engagement

The other morning, I went to the bank machine (translation: ATM) to take out some cash to pay the %#@$# trainer. Oddly (it was Sunday @ 7am), there was a guy there already using it so I had to wait. He finished his transaction and then stood there blocking the machine so he could read his receipt. I'm waiting. Still reading. I'm waiting. Finally, I opened the door and gave him a look and he grudgingly started to move. You're done? MOVE.

He is obviously not versed in the SunnyShine rules of bank machine etiquette. I'll enlighten you in case you see me waiting behind you.

1. The second you're finished, move. Don't linger to fiddle with your wallet. Don't read your receipt. You should know how much money is there in the first place. It shouldn't be a surprise.
2. Don't update your passbook if you haven't updated it for the better part of ever. I don't have 30 minutes to wait for each one of your 1000 transactions to be printed in a little book. Get a statement. Better yet, use online banking so you can see all of your transactions whenever you want. You can even print them in the privacy of your own home and no one will have to wait.
3. Getting your 2 year old to press the buttons is not cute. He/She can neither count nor read and taking 15 minutes to withdraw $20 is unacceptable. There are people waiting. Just do it yourself and move on. I don't care if there is whining and complaining. You are the parent, grow a pair and put your foot down. Also, if there is whining and complaining, you had better get that transaction done even faster cause I'm not interested in hearing your brat cry.
   
4. If you are depositing cheques, add them up, enter the total, and put them in the same envelope. Do not make 58 separate transactions. We're waiting.
5. Ditto for paying your bills. As a matter of fact, pay your bills online or over the phone. There is no need for you to take up time at a bank machine for this.
6. Don't eat, drink, talk on the phone, juggle, or do anything else that will distract you or slow you down from the task at hand.
   
7. If the machine tells you there are insufficient funds one time, you can assume it will tell you that EVERY time. There is no need to try the exact same withdrawal over and over again. Money is not going to magically appear in your account if it wasn't there a minute ago.

Your cooperation is appreciated.

SunnyShine


________________
RainyBow note: Ah yes, the ATM experience. Does it ever suck. The one I frequent most (near my house) is in the vestibule of a bank. It's also frequented by a delightful security guard. A few months back this guard was a guy who danced around while listening to his MP3 player so loudly that I couldn't even hear myself think while withdrawing cash (what? I asked for $1,000 in cash??!). Not surprisingly, I wrote a complaint letter. A few days after I sent it, he was replaced by an equally delightful woman. She reads books quite intently with her shoes off. Let me tell you, I feel oh so safe knowing that if an incident should occur at the ATM, she'll only have to mark her page, put down the book, put her shoes back on and tie them up. Then she'll whip into hot pursuit of the perpetrator. Oh yeah.

this is the transplant unit, your new organ has arrived

So yesterday, I'm in the bathroom at the office and I hear a phone ring in a stall. This is not really unusual but the person actually answered and started talking. Is this really necessary?? Unless you are expecting a call from the transplant unit to tell you that your new lung has arrived or your loved one is making the one allowable call from a satellite phone in Antartica, there is NO reason to answer your phone in the stall. None. The aforementioned call did not fall into one of these two categories. It was the 'Hi, how are you. I'm good. Yeah, I'd love to see a movie, what time' kinda phone call.

dear bathroom-stall-phone-answerer: I'd like to introduce you to something called voice mail. It's this handy new thing that lets people leave you a message. I know, crazy. Use it. Love it. Own it. Plus, don't tell me you don't have caller ID, 'cause I know you do. I'm sure you could have waited 3 minutes to call this person back.

It gets worse. Just after these niceties, I heard this: 'I'm in the bathroom and I'm just going to flush the toilet so if you hear some noise, that's what it is'.

WHAT?????

So it's not enough that she answered the phone in the stall in the first place, but she actually had to tell the other person that she did. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe cell phones have mute functions. If it was necessary to answer the phone in the stall (and it wasn't), couldn't she at least have muted the call when she was flushing? Does the caller really need to know? Is this so difficult? Clearly, it is.


SunnyShine

____________________________

RainyBow note: We've got these wireless headsets at work that allow everyone to roam quite freely around our floor. This is a great thing when you're stuck on a long and painful conference call far away from the water cooler. But it's also a great thing for people who like to paypee and talk, which is not so good for the rest of us. For two years there, every time we had a full team conference call, I would brace myself for the inevitable flush.

I'm no Miss Manners, but if I really had to go and my call was showing no signs of an imminent end, I would just put the headset down, run to the bathroom, run back, then put the headset back on. Other people I know undertake a similar sequence in a less radical way; they substitute the removal and replacement of the headset with muting and unmuting. I still find this odd but at least some effort is being made to spare others from having to listen. Still, apparently someone on the team continually felt no need to complete two crucial steps in that sequence, both involving the headset. I spent two years ensuring that every member of the team knew how to use the mute function on his or her headset.

Just when I was beginning to wonder if my instructions sucked big time, strangely, one week the flushing just stopped. Coincidentally, one member of the team switched positions internally to take on a totally different role. I haven't actually checked in with anyone on that team, but I'm willing to bet that some mysterious flushing began on their calls...

________________________________


SunnyShine note: OMG, you totally have to tell me who this is.