Thursday, June 17, 2010

A Few Possible Reasons Why I Might Stab You - Yes, YOU - in the Face

I'm making a commitment to update this more frequently. Perhaps some day I'll be a professional blogger! Right now, I'll settle for being totally awesome. In case anyone cares, my hands are still burning. But enough about that - you've got to be wondering why I might stab you - yes, YOU - in the face. Here are some reasons.

You hit on me via Facebook chat.
There aren't many things that irritate me as much as this, including burning hands. Facebook chat pickup attempts are far worse. First off, if you're going to Facebook IM me every time I log in, I am going to think you are a stalker. I will try to avoid you. I will also never, never, never meet you in person. Never. Granted, this only applies to people I haven't actually met. If I've met you, then odds are we're cool. But have you noticed that my relationship status is "It's Complicated?" That's code for "If you hit on me via Facebook chat, I will complicate YOUR FACE." Probably with stabbing.

I even once got a Facebook chat marriage proposal. This is, by far, the most absurd thing that has happened to me on the Internet in quite some time. This is exactly what happened. I know this because I was so amused by it that I copied and pasted it into a message to a friend. Laughs were had by all.

Facebook Chatter: so will you marry me

Me: definitely not

FC: why you think i'm not able to make u happy i think u spend with me one night you'll not forget me

Me: 1) I don't know you. 2) You have terrible grammar. 3) You seem to think spending one night with you will somehow happen and end well for you, so you're clearly delusional.

Delusions I could possibly deal with, but not the lack of knowing and bad grammar. Deal breaker.

Facebook Chatter then accused me of not liking immigrants, and I kindly replied that I dislike bad grammar despite national origin. No discrimination here!

You're a know-it-all, yet you don't know it all. You don't even know it a little.
I was blessed/cursed with being one of the few people on the planet with a functioning brain. This gives me the special super power of knowing when other people are full of shit. If you don't know something, don't pretend that you do. It's irritating to those of us who actually do know things. A prime example of this is when people use Latin incorrectly and/or pronounce it wrong. That drives me insane. People only do this in order to seem educated and/or pretentious. This might work on the average folk, but when you say "circa" and you mean "est" a little part of me dies. Then the audience has to clap to bring me back to life and, oh, wait, that's Tinkerbell. But you get my point. Stick to things you know, and strive to learn what you don't. Just don't fake it.

You don't call back ... and that's what I pay you for.
Of course, it's annoying to have calls go unreturned, but the people in my life have actual lives of their own that do not revolve around me, so it's usually days of phone tag before contact is established. Established - from the Latin est, meaning "it is" - see, learning is fun! This scenario, while frustrating at times, is perfectly acceptable. We all have busy lives - hell, even I take forever to call people back. It just happens.

Having said that, if you're my doctor, I'm paying you to be at my beck and call during business hours. If I call for a prescription refill, send it to the pharmacy. If I call about a change in symptoms, call me back and tell me what to do. If you're part of the Wendy-getting-better process, wait by your phone. I'm going to call.

You respond to my increased pain with the always frustrating, never fruitful question, "Are you wearing your back brace?"
This makes my skin crawl in a special way. When I call my doctor during a bad flare-up to see what type of medical attention, if any, is needed, I do not want to hear about my back brace. First off, if I'm calling you, I've already tried the brace. And the stretching. And the pills and the deep breathing and all the other useless crap you tell me to do before someone has to shoot me full of narcotics and send me home to wait to die lie around alternating heat and ice until the flare-up is gone.

My problems will not be solved by a back brace. Also, I'm not stupid. I'm not lying around in pain, staring a my back brace and not making the connection that maybe I should try that for a while. Furthermore, my pain problem is not my back. So quit with the back brace nonsense.

You use "me" and "myself" interchangeably, and they're clearly not.
This is especially prevalent on the Real World/Road Rules Challenge, and I will not get into why I know that on here. "The teams going into the challenge are Douche and Bag and Ego and Myself."

What? Did you learn nothing in school? Myself is either reflective or intensive. Observe:

I myself love attacking unsuspecting strangers like a ninja.
I broke out of prison all by myself. Just like a ninja!

Yes, I know that's a sentence fragment. But I'm blogging here! And it's for added effect. If you knew the way I talked, you'd understand. Fragments are part of my charm. Just like a ninja!

I'm sure I'll think of a few more of these as the time passes, but for now, let me attempt this thing called sleep, which would be a lot easier if my doctor had called in some sleep meds.

No comments: