I just want to GET my fucking parcel, man…

One day I’mma throw a nail bomb into the DHL main office.

I had a lot to do last week but all my light bulbs blew and my headphones too, so I thought, you know, as a citizen of this wonderful century, surely I can just restock my supplies by ordering online and having everything delivered to my door. Delightful!

Except I fucking can’t.

Seriously, what’s even the point of Amazon Prime if they ship with DHL, the nidus of the single most incompetent shitfuckers on the planet (next to DPD)? The entire premise of online shopping is to NOT having to leave the house. DHL defeats this fucking point. I’m home the entire day because I work from home, and Friday night at 18:52 Amazon hits me in the mouth with “Oh oops, guess you weren’t home when we rang right the fuck now, guess where your parcel is?”

Again, home the entire day. Definitely between 6 and 7 pm. I have the sneaking suspicion that DHL only employs the kind of people who used to play ding-dong-ditch as kids, and now they’ve advanced the fucking game to nope-nope-ditch-get-it-the-fuck-yourself.

So where the ever-loving hell is my parcel, you may ask? Did they put the order in the DHL parcel shop up the street from me? No. Did they put it in the parcel shop down the street from me? No. Random pizza place way at the other end of the district? Yes.

In that moment I just think, fuck it. I’ll leave it there to rot. I’m not going there. Everything in my body is trying to move itself into the general direction of the other side of the solar system, that’s how much I don’t want to go. I will eat your children! You fuckers gonna bring the fucking thing here! But of course they don’t. And I already paid for that shit, so… urrrrrrrrggggghhh.

So the following Monday I gather all my strength and go. But not so fast, dear reader! First the transport needs to be sorted out, which drives another nail into my coffin. This isn’t exactly the largest European city. It’s actually one of the smaller ones. So why do I need 36 minutes on public transport just to get to the other side of my really small district? At this point I’m like fuck it, half an hour on the train, half an hour on foot, to-may-to, to-mah-to, I’ll just walk.

By the honour of Google Maps, I have to power… to get lost regardless because I have as much sense of direction as a dyslexic beached blue whale. Finally get there. I see the random pizza place that doubles as a DHL shop. It’s right in front of me… only problem is that the shop is on the other side of a six lane semi-motorway that someone thought was a bright idea to build in the middle of the fucking town. That’s the kind of street you can’t cross without injury unless you’re literally the Flash. It reminds me of every fantasy novel when the hero’s party gets to a mighty river and have trouble finding their way across. Only with a river all you need to do is throw a rope to a tree at the other side and then move hand over hand along said rope. You can’t do that in an urban setting. So I, the stranded hobbit, look desperately for a crossing. There are two, one 2km in one direction, and the other one 2km in the other direction. While Google is panicking and telling me to “proceed to Arghlblrargl street 15” like a wizard who overdid it with the pipeweed.

After what feels like two hours I’m finally on the other side of the street and proceed. The pizza place seems to be doing more business hoarding parcels than with pizza. Probably because it looks like really doughy pizza and they make burgers with tomato sauce. Who in the hell does that? Old lady at the counter checks my ID and goes on the hunt for my package. There are a lot of packages in the shop. Like, a lot. So it takes a while. Maybe she’s taking so long hoping I’ll get hungry and get a pizza, too. I’m not hungry, I’m angry at the world. The only thing I’m feeling peckish for is a lightly fried DHL delivery man, preferably with teriyaki sauce. Anyway.

Get package. Get out. Get to decide which pedestrian crossing I want and decide on the one on the other side, because I naively assumed it would be a wee bit shorter because the mess of wiring above the street looked like it might lead to a traffic light. It doesn’t. It’s not shorter. It’s right down at the train station, in fact. Google is panicking again and I yell “Shut up!” Get weird looks from people around me. “No, that wasn’t to you, I was talking to… Google.” Time to shut the fucking app, I guess. And since I’m at the station, I decide, fuck it, which at this point should be my life’s motto. Might as well take the underground for two stations and walk the rest.

One thing of interest at my stop is that there is exactly one elevator and approximately 376 people who want to get on it. So, again, fuck it. Might as well take the stairs instead of waiting for the third elevator. I still got some serviceable legs. You know that one underground station in London with the like 1000 steps? This one is similar. Nothing tells your asthmatic ass to start working out like going up those flights of stairs.

Now fast forward. I finally get home. Struggle with my keys. Tear into my parcel like a hungry tiger and hug my lightbulbs to my chest. My pretties! My pretty pretties! Now if only one you doesn’t work I’ll destroy the fucking Earth.

And this is why next time I’ll just go to the fucking store myself. And why I declare open season on DHL delivery men.


Rant Day! Things Never Stopped Pissing Me Off, But I Forgot to Write Them Down!

Item 1: Welcome to grad school, where the rules are made up and deadlines don’t count. This whole MA thing might just take an entire year longer because they maybe won’t let me in the write-your-thesis seminar because I didn’t get a grade on one stupid other seminar in time. So fucking inflexible. But then I keep hearing stories that many girls just got in anyway, never mind that they were only halfway done with all their prerequisites. Look, I got everything done, I registered my topic, and I have a supervisor. Why can you never make an exception for me, huh?

Item 2: Had a very bad bout of depression about the state of women and the state of the world in general, and Boyfriend thinks I can’t read his thoughts. I know that he thinks its ridiculous, that’s why I don’t talk to him about it, even if he insists I talk to him about it. It’s not like he could solve the world for me. It’s not like he can even listen without an uncomfortable sigh or an interjection of “Well, men have it bad too, you know”. Yeah, well, that’s your own problem, isn’t it? Who’s creating problems for everyone?

Item 3: Boyfriend and my clothes. First it’s, “Are you wearing sweatpants?!” Yes. Yes, I am. We’re going to the grocery store, I’m not dressing up for that. It’s aisle 4 at the corner store, not the New York fashion week or some shit. Then later he said to me, “You could wear something like this sometimes” after seeing a woman presenter on TV in a dress. Okay, one: A guy who spent every day of the last thirty-odd years in jeans and t-shirts does not get to tell me how to dress. Two: Right, where? Am I going on TV? Am I getting paid? Do I get my own stylist? Are we going out? No, we never go out. So now I’m sitting here in my best red dress with all my jewellery on, and I’m playing Diablo III, and I’mma get my season char to level 70 before him. In style. Suck it, motherfucker.

Item 4: Overwatch is taking forever to get here, the alpha’s been out forever, come on, Blizz, I need something new to waste my life with!

Item 5: I’m so done with losing weight, I’m just going to pretend this is the fault of the Neanderthal DNA I no doubt carry in large quantities, they got a new study coming out in Bonn that Neanderthal DNA can influence your weight, maybe I should just send them a blood sample?

Item 6: I think I’m going to write a lengthy exposé about why school dress codes are fucking disgusting, because literally the only thing you’re teaching kids is that girls’ bodies are free to be policed by so-called ‘authorities’ at any and all points in their lives. So glad we don’t have this shit here, but who knows, stupidity is known to spread across the globe real fast.

Item 7: I’m not half as creative as I think I am, as evidenced by the fact that all porn parody titles I come up with already exist. Bet you didn’t know that “Whorrey Potter and the Sorcerer’s Balls” was a thing, eh? Apparently that one won an award.

Item 8: There’s an influx of graffiti in the ‘hood, so now I have to go out in the cold with my red pen and correct their spelling and grammar mistakes. Assholes. Everyone has a smart phone, but gods forbid they download a dictionary.

Item 9: So I looked at some what the facebook friends-of-friends promised me to be amusing pictures titled “Why my kid is crying”. Like the Queen, I was not amused. Most of the time I was thinking, Why are you snapping a picture when you should be slapping some sense into your dumb fucking kid? And that’s how I realised I’m still not ready for parenthood.

Rant Day! A Few Things That Earned Mine Ire, Oct 26 – Nov 1

Item 1: Brought to you by local news: So a guy punched a woman in the face on the subway in broad daylight, then slapped her boyfriend because she kissed her boyfriend and he felt provoked by that kiss because he hasn’t had a girlfriend in two years. It’s spreading! The stupidity is spreading! I told you this kinda shit would happen if we don’t put America under a giant glass dome soon! This level of entitlement is not indigenous, I tell you. People used to be reasonable here. No more so, apparently! Like, dude, really, you didn’t have a girlfriend in two years? Could that have anything to do with the fact that you like punching people in public, you fucked up asswipe? Can we bring back the pillory already? Or at least publish the name of this absolute tool somewhere, so women will know to avoid him forever. This is the kind of guy who’s stinking up the gene pool, don’t for the love of any god you care for let him breed. Spread the word, make it known.

Item 2: People on public transport, stop staring at me because I’m carrying a cake. Don’t you ever carry cake around? Sucks to be you, then, you probably don’t have any friends.

Item 3: I changed my thesis focus slightly and now I’m questioning everything I’m doing and have been doing and will ever do.

Item 4: Why do some amazon sellers insist on making their return policy as complicated as humanly possible? Okay, you know what, maybe I just keep this surplus item, this all seems just not worth the hassle.

Ahhhh. Actually, this wasn’t a bad week. Like, for me, personally. But now it’s November and I got a shit ton of stuff to do. So… don’t you get used to this.

Rant Day! Things That Pissed Me Off, Oct 12 – 18

Item 1: Remember how I spent all summer complaining about the heat? Yeah, well, now I’m cold. Is there no decent weather to be had on this rotten planet?

Item 2: Got up early, had breakfast, got dressed, was super motivated, only to find out my class was cancelled. Goddamnit!

Item 3: Why is it always the old male profs who are so hideously unorganised it makes me want to bash my brains out with a steel rod? Is that sexist? Is that ageist? I mean, yeah, maybe, but it’s also true. Like, any female prof and young male prof I ever had arrived in the first session all like, “Alright, attendance list, check. Waiting list, check. Sorry, you’re out, better luck next time. Here’s your reading list and your schedule for the semester, it also tells you how you are being graded, everyone take one, but it’s also online. Here’s a list with group presentation topics and dates, everyone pick one and collect contact addresses from your presentation colleagues. I’ll expect you to mail me your powerpoint slides at least two days in advance. You’ll also be writing your paper on this topic, short paper, about ten pages, just an fyi. Use any style sheet you’re comfortable with, but be consistent. On X date I’m not here, so there’s no class, on X date we’ll have our final exam, you’ll get to choose between two questions dealing with any of the literature we’ve discussed, you pick one, write a short essay, about 700 words. Deadline for your papers is X. My office hours are X, drop in any time. Any questions? No? Alright, let’s get this party started with an introduction to our topic and why the works on the reading list are significant.”

And every old male prof I ever had is like, “Alright, attendance… oh, no, why don’t I first tell you what this course is about, it’s not like you actually read the info when you signed up. How about I go on a tangent about why I love this particular book so much? Attendance? Oh, well, pass a list around. Who’s on the waiting list? Oh, we’ll get to that later. So anyway… [anecdote][tangent][unrelated thing] By the way, has anyone read any of the books on the reading list already? In another course maybe? Okay, well, don’t pick that one for your presentation. Have I mentioned you’re supposed to do a presentation? What, group or single? We’ll get to that later. Yes, about this book… [tangent] Right, why don’t we set some presentation dates? We’ll get to the exact topics later. Actually, let’s not bother with the topics right now, just see me in my office hour, I’ll think of something. Group presentation? Ah, well, if you think it’s necessary. Final exam? We’ll get to that later. Anyway, do you use X style sheet? Oh, there’s another? Alright, use that. But this one is very different from X style sheet, yes? Ah, well, I’ll think about which you can use. Okay, I changed my mind about topics, everyone presenting in November will have X work and everyone presenting in December will have Y work. Oh, there’s also January? Alright, you take Z work. Deadline for the paper? Oh, let’s say mid-December. Now, remember, I want you to use input from your in-class discussion in your paper. Let’s ignore completely how that’s not possible for anyone presenting after mid-December. Anyway, about this book [tangent][anecdote][entire class confused].”


Item 4: Why is it that in the first week of university everything goes wrong? And I mean everything at once. Like, full on, colleagues having hospital scale accidents. Is there something in the water?

Item 5: Public transport, my arch nemesis! Listen up, fuckboys, the tram is entirely the wrong place for establishing dominance by claiming territory. You don’t have territory here. People are moving all the time. And you’re in the way. That door is broken, I need to get to the other. I said “Excuse me” in a reasonable tone and volume. Thing 1, why don’t you get off the phone for two seconds to move your briefcase that’s in the middle of the aisle? Thing 2, don’t just stare at the wall, move your fat ass out of the way. Let me try again with a slightly louder “Excuse me”. No? Still no reaction? I might as well be thin air. Fine, gentlemen, nice knowing you, meet my umbrella! What? Don’t complain. Move yourselves or get moved.

Item 6: My eye’s hurting again and it’s torture. Also, I’m having the migraine attack from hell on the weekend and nothing is helping. Water, check. Tea, check. Moar water, check. Aspirin, check. Other medical stuff, check. Yoga, check. Nothing! And I so wanted to go to the night flea market! I’m noticing a trend here, every time I prepare to go out and do something fun my body is just like, “Nope!” It’s like the universe is telling me to stay home for reasons I can’t quite fathom and I hope this will make some fucking sense in the fucking future because right now it just feels twelve levels of unfair.

Sigh. I wear my suuuunglasses indoors, so I can, so I can, not die from pain because fuck these liiiights….

Rant Day! Things That Pissed Me Off, Oct 5-10

Item 1: Mayoral elections are coming up and its a mess. Basically, the government is putting a gun to our heads saying “Socialist or right-wing!” and I’m just over here like, “Pull the trigger.” One candidate has proven to be incompetent. The other one is known for shouting a lot but not getting anything useful done. All other parties are so minuscule right now they’ll never even get close to the town hall, so what’s the point? And if I see one more balding fat man slinging mud at another balding fat man I swear I’m going to go postal. Go home! Both of you! No one wants you here! Maybe I should run next time. I’ll establish the first Assassin’s Party. It’s a foolproof scheme. People will vote for me or else I’ll just have them meet with an accident! Then when I’m mayor, everyone will just do as I say unless they want to wake up with a knife in their back! Oh, we’re very conservative, we’re using the world’s oldest method of persuasion: shameless blackmail and old-fashioned violence. We’ll also dress in impeccable black suits. We’re not simple brutes, you know. Just gentlefolk who wish to extract the razorblades from the cotton candy of life. Mostly by stabbing the razorblades.

Item 2: They told us we’d get new windows in October. It is October. Well? I’m waiting. Hop to it. Look, I don’t want much in life, alright? But a couple windows where you don’t have to mop the floor every time it rains outside would be nice. Did you notice it’s been raining rather heavily lately? Well, did you? Because I did.

Item 3: My uterus is eating itself alive again and I’m in a lot of pain.

Item 4: Somehow my city managed to have a giant water main burst that brought all traffic to a standstill and made everyone late not once but twice this week. How old are those damn pipes? It’s not like it was freezing, so… how?

Item 5: I’ve had to take eye drops for over a month now and I still keep missing my eyes. How hard is it to drop the stuff into the eyeball and not literally everywhere else, up to and including nostrils? Extremely hard, apparently. My excuse is that I can’t see what I’m aiming at, which is completely true.

Item 6: People who design game characters who are meant to fight in 12 cm heels should be forced to wear heels for a week. Try doing anything routine and everyday in heels, let alone fight. Try walking for a start. I know there are some drag queens out there who can pack a punch in glittering stilettos but I guarantee you your character is not one of them and neither are you. Also, who keeps proclaiming from up high that torso protection is obsolete for females? Do female game characters have some sort of magical uterus shield that can ward off swords and arrows and whatever magic will get thrown at you? Because if they do I want that. Or do they just not have any vital organs in their mid-sections that need protection? Is that why they’re all so skinny? Do they just cram all their organs into their boobs? That would explain so much! (This complaint brought to you by Diablo III’s Demon Hunter and Barbarian designs.)

Arrgh. I think I’m finished. Anything you’d like to add?

Rant Day! I’m Getting My Rant Game Back on Track!

Item 1: So I actually got a compliment the other day. In public, no less. And it weirded me out, because, hello, since when do we talk to strangers on public transport?! This is Autism Central, we don’t acknowledge people’s existence until we bump into them! So I’m on the subway, White Lies blaring in my ears, when I feel someone tapping my shoulder. Thinking it’s just a late tourist trying to get to the airport, because that’d be the right line for that purpose, I unplug my ears, turn and say, “Yeah?” And this hipster looking dude with round turquoise Harry Potter-esque glasses says, “Hey, I just wanted to say your glasses are real cool. That’s it, really.” And proceeds back to his corner as I say a slightly baffled, “Okay. Thanks. Yours are nice, too.” And spent the rest of the train ride stewing in my own awkwardness, suddenly questioning the entire universe. Who is this guy? What’s so special about my glasses? Is he doing a Random Act of Kindness kind of project to get more followers on his Twitter feed? Is he tweeting about this now? Is he snapchatting his bros about my glasses?! What just happened?! Does not compute!

Safe to say I’m bad with compliments. Probably because I never get any except from my mom.

Item 2: I got back into Pilates with the end of the heat wave and now I’m hurting in places I didn’t even know could hurt, or, for that matter, were located within my body.

Item 3: I recently found out that my dad and most of the people he knows of the 50+ generation never wrote a single letter of application in their entire life. Not one goddamn cover letter, and those guys ain’t exactly poor. They just knew people who were like, hey, you seem cool, wanna come hang in our brand new office? Like, the first job my dad ever had, he walked out on the second day all like, screw you dickwipes. And it’s like, why are you asking me why I don’t have a proper job when the real question should be, how do YOU even have a proper job?! You didn’t exactly work for it, no pun intended. Fellow millenials, it’s time we take to the barricades! As soon as we can afford any.

Item 4: Mom got her first smartphone and I’m so proud of the progress she made so far, even though she says it’s like having to learn to read all over again. And now dad’s all jealous of me because I’m a better teacher than he is. Right in the generation gap.

Item 5: I seem to be hanging out a lot with my parents, is that normal?

Item 6: I swear job interviews are getting weirder every year. Like, they make you do little tests now like maths and proofreading. What’s next, asking me what kind of animal I’d be if I was an animal? (BTW, the answer is either cat or koala. I excel at sleeping and I’m a picky eater.)

Item 7: The next heat wave is rolling around! Run for your lives! Meet me in Iceland!

P.s.: It’s been over a week and Boyfriend has not noticed the kitten attack.

Rant Day! Things That Pissed Me Off, June 6 – June 12

Why do I think this week conspired with fate to make me throw myself out a very high window?

Item 1: I recently read an article stating that due to new analysis it turns out that 50% of buried Viking warriors in a grave were actually female. How do they know that? Because they finally analysed the damn bones! The bone structure and everything, which as every idiot should know, there are giant differences between male and female bone structures. Used to be, they just looked at the grave goods and were like “Huh, swords, shields, they were warriors. Obviously they were males!” I also read another article, where it turns out most stone age artists (the awesome cave painting artists) 40,000 years ago were actually mostly women! How do they know that? Because they finally analysed the damn paintings! Used to be, they just looked at the paintings and assumed they were made by men because obviously men were hunters so obviously they would paint animals as hunting magic. Why did they assume all this? I dunno, because men are obviously so much more logically inclined, I guess (it’s evolution, just like the fact that they have to sleep around whenever possible, dontchaknow.) And they just assumed. Because it was so obvious to them that women didn’t participate in society in the past, oh, 400,000 years. Which of course begs the question what else archaeologists and historians were wrong about because they based their claims on assumptions instead of actual evidence. If the fact that male scientists did not use actual science in a scientific discipline to back up their claims doesn’t convince you we still need feminism I don’t know what will.

Stop with the assuming and stick to good academic practice, damn you! End male bias in academia! When you assume you make and ass out of u and me.

Item 2: Printers. So we had to exchange the modem and predictably our wifi printer doesn’t work no mo’. So I’m like, no big deal, I’ll just install it anew. Except it is a big deal because it can’t find a connection on its own and the network cable is nowhere to be found. No big deal, I say, I shall purchase a new one. Except that I couldn’t find any store that had those very particular cables. No big deal, I say, I’ll order one on the Internet and print out my stuff at the library. Except that we only have two copiers in the library and the queue was very, very long. One girl was even nice enough to let me quickly print some files from my flash drive. Except that I forgot to print two files because I was in a hurry. No big deal, I say, I’ll print it after the seminar. Except that that printer was then broken and the other one out of paper. No big deal, I say as my eye starts to twitch, I’ll run down to the other building and print it there. Except that now my files weren’t working and thus not printable. No. Big. Deal, I say, now slightly frothing at the mouth and generally done with the world, I’ll upload them again and come back tomorrow, I say as I slouch homewards where I proceed to pour myself a very big drink. So I upload my files again. Go to the printing place again. Then the copier ate my copy card and still wouldn’t let me print.

But that’s no big deal, I’m sure the murderous rampage I went on after that will be ruled a crazy mass suicide by the police.

Item 3: Dear otherwise friendly librarian, don’t shush me just because I said thanks to the girl who let me use the copier. Those people around the corner you mention? They’re not actually working, they’re running around barefoot (!) and visiting with their friends. Go shush them!

Item 4: Potential employers everywhere: Don’t ask me to pretend your 10 hour a week job offer is my dream job. It’s not and we both know it. It’s not anyone’s dream job. You need someone to do work for you. I’m capable and diligent. Now let’s cut the bullshit, we both know I’m here about the money. Hire me, pay me, we could be so happy.

Seriously, I shouldn’t even have to write a cover letter for some 10 h/week temp job.

Item 5: I probably blew that postgraduate interview I was angsting about last week because I still have too little work experience in the field. Because somehow you always need work experience in a specific field before you can start education in this field. However that’s supposed to work, since everyone expects you to have this education before they can consider you for an internship, much less a job.

Item 6: “Hold on until Monday”. That’s my mantra until, uh, Monday. Then things will get easier and all I’ll have to do is write.

Some days I’m so done I pour whisky in my Ben&Jerry’s tub.