Category Archives: complaint department

Sick Day

Well, I’m sick. As in vomit every 2 hours kind of sick. I’m never like this and it’s pretty awful.  Not quite sure what to do with myself. I guess I’ll sleep since I was too busy throwing up to sleep at all last night. It’s weird, because I’m not even going to class today and I never ever skip class. What do you do when you’re sick? Eat jello and drink ginger ale? I would love to do that right now, but that requires walking to the store, something I’m not really up to at the moment. I hope I sleep and this all wears off… Anyway, enjoy your day!


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Sleaze Ball

Today, like every other day, I found myself bouncing around different facebooks, creeping, specifically looking at wedding photos until I literally choked on my vomit. I stumbled on the wedding photos of one of the sleaziest dudes I have ever encountered. He is a few years old than me, and in high school I thought he was sooo hot. Well, a few years ago, McDreamy and I were staying in the same beach house, his girlfriend (now wife) was there, too. It was like 4am and my friends plus him and a few others were still awake, you know, living the life. He literally tried to force me to make out with him. Now, this would have been awesome, except not only did he have a girlfriend, but SHE WAS IN THE OTHER ROOM sleeping. Needless to say, I no longer think he is anything spectacular, but apparently his poor girlfriend-turned-wife saw something in him. I just hope for her sake he changed up his sleazy ways.

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One of Those Days

I consider myself a pretty lucky person. Yeah, bad things happen to me, but not like they do normal people. I think it has a lot to do with my mentality, you know, I kind of create my luck by having a good outlook on life. For instance, I don’t have bad days, if something happens I laugh about it and let it roll away, usually the day turns out to be amazing. People are always talking about having one of those days. A day where if one thing goes wrong, everything goes wrong. That just doesn’t happen to me… Until today.

The day started out great. I woke up, like I do every morning, and walked to the bathroom for a shower. A little side note, I’m all about healthy hair so I wash it about everything other, maybe every 2 days, depending on how I’m planning to wear it. Well, today was the first day of school, so naturally I wanted to look extra sexy with silky, clean, straight hair to impress/intimidate everyone in my presence. No such luck. I got in the shower and realized I left my shampoo in Newport, where my family lives. This completely ruined everything I planned for the day, but I improvised and just used the little bit of conditioner I had left over from dying my hair. Crisis averted. Greasy hair, plus a cute shirt and a ton of make up is still a great way to make an impression…

The day went on well after that. I went to my first class, then had a great work out before my next class. After cleaning up after the gym I looked in my notebook to see where exactly my next class was going to be. It started at 12:30, at this point it was 12:20, totally cool. I opened the notebook and to my dismay, my stupid self didn’t write down the room number for my next class. Great. I tried relentlessly to look it up on my iPhone, but it would connect to the server, which means my password wasn’t working. Temple makes students change their access password every few months and apparently I forgot mine. Great, it’s 12:30. I went to the computer lab in the building that my class is in, but ended up getting my access denied entire because I attempted to log on unsuccessfully too many times.

The next leg of my journey took my to the Computer Services Office in the Tech Center, not exactly close to the building my class was in. It’s 12:45 and I’m 15 minutes late for my first day, wish my hair would have turned out better, so I could at least look good while making a bad impression. After waiting for about 15 minutes I finally met with a consultant and got my password thing sorted out and learned my class was in room 113. I finally ended up in class at approximately, 45 minutes late, only to find out there were no seats left. I spent the remainder of the class sitting Indian style on the floor like a complete loser. After class, I walked timidly to the front the room planning out what to say to the professor, ended up thinking my story was hilarious and went on to tell me she was going to use my an informational resource based on a previous class I took. Crisis averted.

My next class went great, and afterward I was planning on going to the gym, so I could lift and get all buff and stuff. I went to the bathroom and while I was in there I pulled out my keys and latched them to my belt loop and got my cell phone, so I wouldn’t have to dig around my bag when I got to 9th and Norris, where my car was parked. I called my grandma to tell her about my class fiasco and giggle about my horrible luck. When I got to  my car I unhooked my keys and realized my car key wasn’t attached. I couldn’t breathe. This isn’t actually my car, it’s my my family’s car and I drove it because I was running late and my bike’s broken. I told my grandma, and we were both freaking out when my phone died. Awesome.

I went retracing my steps from 9th and Norris back to Anneberg Hall, hyperventilating and imagining my grandma calling me over and over having no idea what to do or what happened to me. Ten minutes later I’m finally back in Anneberg, in the bathroom ferociously looking for my estranged key. It was no where to be found. It wasn’t on the shelf, and not in the stall. I felt awful. Awful enough to decided to dig in the trash can, my last beam of hope. I felt around the  dirty, disgusting trash can, full of used tissues and paper towels, only to find my lost car key buried underneath all the trash debris. My heart skipped a beat. I pulled my key out and a warm feeling of relief overtook my entire body. My luck was restored. I found my key and all was right with the world.

So, was this a good day or a bad day? I’m not entirely sure, all I know is, I’m pretty freaking lucky.

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Breaking Up

There’s plenty of fish in the sea, or at least that’s what friends say after a terrible break up. No matter how many times we hear it, breaking up still consumes our entire being, and causes never ending self-loathing. No one could ever replace who you lost. Break ups are heart wrenching and you feel alone, like no one else has ever gone through what you’re going through and no one could ever understand what it’s like to have your heart stomped on. Regardless of what your irrational self thinks everyone knows exactly what you’re going through after a devastating break up.

During my break up with, we’ll call him “Life Ruiner” or maybe “Steve” is more appropriate, I hated the fact that we broke up, so I repeated things over and over in my head, processing the thousands of things I did wrong. One of the most comforting facets of a tragic break up is the song you choose to accompany you in all your misery. My song was Belle & Sebastian’s “I’m A Cuckoo.” I could relate to every single line in the song with a burning passion and felt like every word was penned solely for me and my agony. It seemed to tell the story of my relationship and break up with Steve all too well. Stuart Murdoch passionately sang the words,

“Breaking off is misery

I see a wilderness for you and me

Punctuated by philosophy

I’m wondering how things could’ve been”

I sang along just as passionately until I couldn’t sing anymore, feeling sad in my defeat, and wasting countless hours wondering ‘what if.” In my mind, Steve and I were meant to be together and were lost in the wilderness of our love, searching for a way back to each other.

All the self-loathing, dramatics, and the sinking hole in your chest make you do and say things your ordinarily sane self would never think of doing or saying. Again, I was no exception to this break up faux pas. Some channel this negativity by drunk-dialing their ex, pleading to get back together while others become adrenaline junkies, having lost their purpose in life. Fortunately, my theatrics only led me to locking myself in my room and reading the entire Twilight series in two weeks. Not something a sane person would do. My pain was entirely gone for that period of time, wrapped up in the love between a human and vampire. Trapped inside a fictional world, far from my reality, turning pages in a place where impossible love seemed to rule.

There are many phases after a break up. You miss the person to the point of sickening sadness, eventually get over it and start to hate the person in the worst kind of way. At this point wishful thinking ensues. I would imagine myself gallivanting around Philadelphia with some serious eye candy, bumping into Steve, and seeing a distraught look take over his stupid face. After seeing my new beau, Steve would ferociously stalk my Facebook, seeing pictures of my new, healthy relationship, and cry. He would send me text messages, apologizing, pleading to rekindle our love at whatever cost. I wouldn’t respond. Unfortunately, wishful thinking is just that, and it never comes true. I hated Steve and I wanted him to feel my pain, but knew he never would.

Soon you realize you could never hate someone you once cared so much about and find every and any excuse to talk to them. It’s not over yet, at least in your mind. You’re sitting online, the other person logs on; you haven’t talked in months, and can’t stand it anymore. The first mistake too many make is setting their away status to an ambiguous “emo” lyric. An example goes like this, “You’re barely missing me, I’m missing you and everything you do,” a line from The Get Up Kids song My Apology. There’s a lot of logic behind this move. Obviously, the person will see the status, know you still love them, and instant message you immediately. Believe it or not, this isn’t very tactful and it makes you look like a huge, desperate loser.

Everyone learns the ambiguous emo lyric is far from ambiguous, so you remove it. However, you continue to stare at your computer, hoping maybe they’ll talk to you. Nothing happens. In this case, I searched my mind for anything I possibly could to talk to Steve about. Finally, when I was at the point of choking on my virtual words, I messaged him. I spilled my guts about whatever pointless thing I possibly could, hoping for a positive response. This, like everything else post break up, leaves you completely unsatisfied.

Someday, if you’re lucky, you wake up from the post break up nightmare that has become your life and move on. Once you can’t stand listening to the same song on repeat anymore and you’ve completed the stages of the break-up, the sun starts shining, your cold heart begins to melt, and you are flooded with an emotion you forgot existed. You are happy. With the weight on your chest lifted, the world is your oyster and you understand what everyone has been saying and you’re ready to go fishing.

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Oh Snow Day.

Today is the first snow day I’ve ever hated.

When I was a kid and the there was a prospective snow storm on the way I would stay up all night, looking out the window waiting for the first flakes to fall. Many times the snow never actually came and I was forced to get on the school bus, exhausted from the unnecessary excitement. Last night, I went bed early because I was so miserable, I just wanted the stupid day to end and I fell asleep praying the snow would miss my little section of Pennsylvania. Much to my dismay, I woke up this morning to a world covered in white, and an even worse mood.

I don’t understand why I’m constantly tortured by stupid snow. When I want you, I can’t have you and when I have you, I don’t want you… Sounds like an unhealthy love affair. I just wish I would have brought my snowboard home from Philly, so I could at least do something cool when the road eventually clear.

How will I make it through this day? Well, it’s not even noon and I’ve had 5 Christmas cookies, 3 cups of coffee, and have had Sufjan Stevens Songs For Christmas on repeat since 9am. I will find the Christmas spirit and I will like this snow day. If these methods don’t work, I’m forcing myself into a coma and sleeping for the next month.

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