January 26th, 2006

Whale fluke

Balanced, y'all.

I've paid the balance.

I've paid the balance.


(Translated from Me-ish to English: I've mailed a check for the last amount of money I owe to my credit card company. For the first time in nearly two years, the period that began when I got fired from my job of three years, I have no carried-over credit card balance. Goodbye to finance charges! Heck, I'm the sort of credit card user who sometimes pays ahead -- "OK, I used the credit card that time after the bill was mailed, so let's add that to the total" -- so I'm even less likely to have charges again.)

*does the Accomplished Dance*
Whale fluke

Tall, grande venting

Okay, getting some pet peeves off my chest:

* Attention, many, many people traveling OHSU’s halls: is looking where you’re going a sign of weakness? Or maybe it’s territoriality: I’m going HERE, never mind where YOU need to go! Lucky I developed such strong dodging skills in the halls of junior high, so I can weave and swoop around all of you…

* Do radio people get some sort of tax break based on how much they use the phrase “pretty much”? And what exactly does “pretty much” modify? Does it add any content, any meat, to what you’re saying? Do you really need to say it? Not usually; it’s perhaps the newest “place-holder” phrase or word, something people say that means “I’m not finished forming this thought, so I’ll say ‘pretty much’ and ‘uh’ and ‘like’ to buy time,” to infect English.

* Hey, person standing next to the bus’s back door: at least when I’m standing there, I at least try to squeeze back a little and maneuver my things to make it easier for people to get out. You’re not a guard, and you’re not a draw bridge operator, and you’re not going to have to hold off a human wave attack. We just, want, off!

* Ever see the sort of complaining person who gets so profanely abusive and offended at someone not doing what they’re supposed to do that you figure, this person just wants to complain about something? I saw that guy. (Yeah, it’s one guy. Thinking that makes it easier for me to cope with them. I mean him.) I was walking down to a bus stop today after work, pondering whether to walk all the way off the hill because of how crowded the buses were, when a large-gutted man started screaming at a full No. 8 bus that drove by. Screaming. Also doing that huge shrug people use to say “I can’t believe you just did that! How the hell can you do that?!” Think John McEnroe. So anyway, this guy yelled “I’m calling your fucking supervisor!”

“It’s full,” someone said.

“I don’t fucking care! The drivers are supposed to stop and say something! They can’t just drive by! That’s the third fucking bus to just drive by!”

(This while he wasn’t noting any bus numbers, by the way, making his screaming an empty threat, only obnoxious. He also wasn’t starting to walk. Which I did. And by the way, if he was waiting for a No. 8 bus and couldn’t take a No. 68 or any others, then I BEAT THAT GUY OFF OF THE HILL! Yes, traffic was that backed up, and I’m glad I didn’t have to spend idle time on a bus with that guy. Hey, bub, try your feet. Move one in front of you, and do the same with the other. Repeat. You might be surprised that our feet can do that…)