You know your enemy. You intensely dislike somebody, sometime loath them, sometime plain tolerate them, yet all along you are knit picking them on whatever they do in front of you. You can't stand them and you can't stand their joy or happiness. You may wish them harm, or you certainly wish someone to bring them the harm.
You know that somehow you are jealous of them, or at least jealous of what they have. They may have gotten your girl, or they may have gotten the job you wanted, or they may have the car you wouldn't get because you can't afford to and you were sensible enough to opt to an entry level car with 52mpg performance.
Or, it is possible that you just hate them.
I have a few of those. I know I am jealous of some of them, but to me it is like this; I am absolutely jealous of what they have, because I truly believe that they do not deserve what they have. I end up self-pitying me, saying,
"Why them? Why not me? What have I not done not to have those things?"
It bothers me enormously that sometimes in my life I do come across the chances for those things they have to become mine, and I somehow manage to think that I am this sad git that is trying to be the people one hates.
Why am I getting cars that are one or two levels down from what he ever had? Am I getting a beamer next? Really?? My guess would be 1 series? then what, a Bentley??
Friday 22 May 2009
Friday 15 May 2009
It's Been a While
I've been told by customers that my tone of voice was a bit off and that before, a long time ago, but this one I had today was way overboard. It was such a big come back. This 23 yrs old kid called up with the stupidest questions and I was being extremely irritated but was quite professional. I was talking to this kid as if he has no brain, speaking each word clearly so he can get it somehow.
Unfortunately, I have been too busy to keep the business facade and have been a little inpatient with some callers, and although I was never rude, I was a little forceful to end the conversation, by asking them to do things rather than sympathize with them in situations.
So this kid was one of them. He basically asked us to provide a telephone line to him but never told us which apartment he lives in in this big building.
Glorious Me the Phone Bitch "We need to know your room number, or we will end up installing the line in someone else's room."
Boy Botch "How am I going to find out my room number?"
GMPB "Well, I suggest you ask the landlord, or the estate agent?"
BB "Oh, really? OK, well, then what number do I need to call when I find that out?"
GMPB "(Didn't you call us like 5 times before? Beside you got the caller ID display!) I can tell you the number now?"
BB "I am outside, have no pen."
GMPB "Is our number showing on your phone?"
BB "Oh, yeah."
GMPB "Well, my name is DiDi, please call us with the apartment number when you find it out."
BB "Is it always you if I call this number then?"
GMPB "Sorry? What do you mean, there are others, there is no problem for you to talk to any of us. Or would you rather not to have me answering the call?"
BB "Well, that's not what I am saying, but you better watch out how you speak to customers. You are always so aggressive, you got to think hard on that."
GMPB "I am sorry? I can't hear well. The reception is a little bad."
BB "I am fucking telling you that your attitude sucks, alright?"
GMPB "I didn't mean to sound like that but the reception is rather terrible."
Now I wrote it all down, it seems extremely unreasonable what he was saying. It really does. What a brat. You have no right to talk to any service people if you didn't know which apartment you live in, nor how to find out the door number of yours. GFYS, or go home, fuck face.
Unfortunately, I have been too busy to keep the business facade and have been a little inpatient with some callers, and although I was never rude, I was a little forceful to end the conversation, by asking them to do things rather than sympathize with them in situations.
So this kid was one of them. He basically asked us to provide a telephone line to him but never told us which apartment he lives in in this big building.
Glorious Me the Phone Bitch "We need to know your room number, or we will end up installing the line in someone else's room."
Boy Botch "How am I going to find out my room number?"
GMPB "Well, I suggest you ask the landlord, or the estate agent?"
BB "Oh, really? OK, well, then what number do I need to call when I find that out?"
GMPB "(Didn't you call us like 5 times before? Beside you got the caller ID display!) I can tell you the number now?"
BB "I am outside, have no pen."
GMPB "Is our number showing on your phone?"
BB "Oh, yeah."
GMPB "Well, my name is DiDi, please call us with the apartment number when you find it out."
BB "Is it always you if I call this number then?"
GMPB "Sorry? What do you mean, there are others, there is no problem for you to talk to any of us. Or would you rather not to have me answering the call?"
BB "Well, that's not what I am saying, but you better watch out how you speak to customers. You are always so aggressive, you got to think hard on that."
GMPB "I am sorry? I can't hear well. The reception is a little bad."
BB "I am fucking telling you that your attitude sucks, alright?"
GMPB "I didn't mean to sound like that but the reception is rather terrible."
Now I wrote it all down, it seems extremely unreasonable what he was saying. It really does. What a brat. You have no right to talk to any service people if you didn't know which apartment you live in, nor how to find out the door number of yours. GFYS, or go home, fuck face.
Sunday 10 May 2009
The Leading One is Black, and the Second one is Black, and the 3rd One is
Life is full of distractions. It is never a smooth sail no matter what you are doing. There is always the possibility for your car to break down on your way to work, and there is always a chance for the boiler to stop working in the middle of your shower, and there is always some fiddling needed when you use that electric cooker. These things make you think that the ife is rosier if you had enough money to pay so these things will be someone else's burden while you just enjoy the end products.
My distraction is a on-going one, and is so silly I just want to give up, but how?
I have 6 or 7 pairs of black socks, all from the same place but purchased at various stages of past 10 yrs or so. They are made up with slightly different materials, therefore displaying slightly different shades of black. Every time I do my darks I end up with 8 or 10 socks all in different shades (they look even more different when wet) and I have to play find the match. It doesn't help that some of them have been torn and thrown away, leaving odd ones with the individual shades.
I have been doing this for many years and I am quite fed up with it. I mean, who would have thought a person can have that many shades of black socks altogether? Why am I standing with handful of black socks that don't seem to match at all? Why? There must be a way out of this...
My distraction is a on-going one, and is so silly I just want to give up, but how?
I have 6 or 7 pairs of black socks, all from the same place but purchased at various stages of past 10 yrs or so. They are made up with slightly different materials, therefore displaying slightly different shades of black. Every time I do my darks I end up with 8 or 10 socks all in different shades (they look even more different when wet) and I have to play find the match. It doesn't help that some of them have been torn and thrown away, leaving odd ones with the individual shades.
I have been doing this for many years and I am quite fed up with it. I mean, who would have thought a person can have that many shades of black socks altogether? Why am I standing with handful of black socks that don't seem to match at all? Why? There must be a way out of this...
Monday 4 May 2009
Friday 1 May 2009
This is Serious
"You are contradicting yourself." They said all at once.
"You refused to identify yourself as woman, yet you sleep with men as a woman. They see you as female, you take that role, I think you have a big issue there."
Said one.
"Why do we have to be the sex, just because we are having sex!?"
I exclaimed.
"Who says I have to be woman to be sleeping with men? And would that make me a man if I was interested in women?"
I went on. This whole thing was ridiculous. Sexuality and sexual activity, plus gender identity and social identity are all too confusing to people. They either get it, or never, ever get it for all their lives.
This reminded of the time I was speaking with my colleague who said to me,
"Oh, I love European gays. They are more of women than real women."
I couldn't even begin to correct her, or point out how wrong the entire sentence she just uttered was.
"Look,"
I said, resolutely.
"I am comfortable in my own body. I love what I am."
"But,"
Mary interrupted me,
"you happen to be a woman. You have the body of a woman."
"Well, sorry, Mary, I refused to believe I do. I am me and that's that."
I continued. People looked confused, or even sorry to hear what I was saying.
"Look,"
I said once again,
"it took me almost 10 years around my puberty to get where I am now. I went through such a struggle and this is what I came to. I am not tied to one sex, and I just am me. The end."
They didn't get it. They never will. And they call themselves a support group. Fuck that. I was not sharing anything with you now, and I wouldn't start that now. You will never get it because you just can't break through. Pathetic, in a way. Yeah.
"You refused to identify yourself as woman, yet you sleep with men as a woman. They see you as female, you take that role, I think you have a big issue there."
Said one.
"Why do we have to be the sex, just because we are having sex!?"
I exclaimed.
"Who says I have to be woman to be sleeping with men? And would that make me a man if I was interested in women?"
I went on. This whole thing was ridiculous. Sexuality and sexual activity, plus gender identity and social identity are all too confusing to people. They either get it, or never, ever get it for all their lives.
This reminded of the time I was speaking with my colleague who said to me,
"Oh, I love European gays. They are more of women than real women."
I couldn't even begin to correct her, or point out how wrong the entire sentence she just uttered was.
"Look,"
I said, resolutely.
"I am comfortable in my own body. I love what I am."
"But,"
Mary interrupted me,
"you happen to be a woman. You have the body of a woman."
"Well, sorry, Mary, I refused to believe I do. I am me and that's that."
I continued. People looked confused, or even sorry to hear what I was saying.
"Look,"
I said once again,
"it took me almost 10 years around my puberty to get where I am now. I went through such a struggle and this is what I came to. I am not tied to one sex, and I just am me. The end."
They didn't get it. They never will. And they call themselves a support group. Fuck that. I was not sharing anything with you now, and I wouldn't start that now. You will never get it because you just can't break through. Pathetic, in a way. Yeah.
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