How Magellan Lost Me Four Dollars, My Sanity, And an Hour of My Time
So I spent the last week in Los Angeles with Avi, who I have not seen in a year. It was great to hang out, even though all the conversation with her and Lis was about old Who which I am not familiar with. We went to the Elivis Costello concert, but more importantly, we went to Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles.
ROSCOE'S CHICKEN AND WAFFLES, BITCHES!
Roscoe was a genius, this is true. My meal was artery clogging heaven. I've decided that its a good thing there isn't one of these resturants within driving distance of me because I would be soooo fat, I am in such love with this place.
We also went on a small scale shopping spree where I bought a dress at Buffalo Exchange, a 40% off Demi at Victoria Secret, three books, three tshirts (one of which doesnt really fit but dammit I'm wearing it anyway), a scarf, some leggings that also don't fit, a load of baked goods, and an Ugly Doll.
On Saturday we drove back up to Santa Cruz. Poor Bill, we pretty much spent the last half of the trip making him play Would You Rather? where most of the options involved furries or the sparklecock.
Yesterday I saw Julie and Julia with Lis's mom, who aparently is the only one on the planet who will see this film with me without flaking out. Streep was as fabulous as I knew she would be, and its worth seeing the movie just for her. Amy Adams was all right. She swings back and forth from annoying as hell to nearly sympathetic. Some of her annoying parts were actually the fault of corny lines that would have given a much better actress a run for her money (but a much better actress probably could have pulled it off). The writing was just plain better for the Julia Child parts. I don't know how that happened exactly, but if you add all the good up you have a movie that is 75% gold, and the other 25% is bareable enough.
But after the movie, when I get to the Oakland part of my trek back, is where things start to go bad. First of all, I'd planned to unpack some of the stuff I'd brought on the way up and left in Lis's room last week. But when I get to my room (yes, my room, I paid the damn rent) its a mess because someone else has been staying in it.
Okay, fine, they were supposed to be out but I wasn't too worked up. Even though I paid the rent I hadn't technically moved in yet so...okay, nothing to be too upset over (thouch come to think of it I wish I'd been told about this as yeah, I DID pay the damn rent). Anyway the girl who was staying in it, who was also the renter of that room until July, came and informed me that she'd be picking up the furniture she'd left there WEEKS ago. I don't know why she didn't pick up her shit before now, but after all this time we pretty much assumed she was leaving it there for good. So I'd been under the assumption I was getting a furnished room.
And you know, I'm fine with her taking her stuff back, but I am not fine with the inconvenience. The more I think about it, the more pissed I get, so I'm angier now than I was yesterday. She could have friggin told SOMEONE in the house she was coming back for her shit, she could have had the manners to move her shit out in a timely manner, but now I have like three days to get a friggin van and get my nephews to help me move in because if I'm not getting the furniture then I have to bring my own, something I'd not planned time to do because I didn't think I would have to. To put the icing on it, she didn't give a definite time for when she's coming back for her shit. I believe she just said "I'm coming back later" or something to that effect. This is something I plan to resolve tomorrow, because I need to move in Thursday, Friday at the latest and if her shit is still in my room it is going in the yard, and she better not give me sass about grasstains on the matress because she's the one who left it in MY ROOM.
If I was going to be a REAL bitch about this I'd calculate the days since she's vacated. If its over thirty, then legally she's relinqushed claim to anything she left.
Anyway, after that lovely news I head home--and that's where the fun really starts. First of all my Magellan GPS device did that thing where it thinks I'm completely somewhere else when I start it up. The dumb thing is very picky about being turned off and then turned on at a different location and takes forever to sync. While I'm waiting for it to sync, which takes 10-20 mins usually(!), I decide I'm just going to get on the freeway that I think it is. Of course the freeway I picked was wrong, but at least I was headed east, ya know? I was on the 580, which I believe eventually does sync up with the 80 of give you a junction or whatever. The point is, I was going east when the Magellan kicked in and told me to turn around.
I should have known better when I bought this thing. Why am I taking instructions from somoene who couldn't find the East Indies?
Anyway, it tells me to get off the freeway and get back on going West, which I do. Let me tell you, the route Magellan picked to get me to the 80 was by far the least efficient route it could have possibly done. It sends me to the friggin BAY BRIDGE, where it tells me to do a U turn. A U TURN!
Now, according to my father, if you get in the rightmost lane right before the toll booths, there is some kind of way to make a "double right" and get to the 80 that way, which I assume is what my stupidass Magellan was trying to make me do. Now, first of all, there are much better ways to get to the 80 from the 580. Like getting me off near Telegraph and getting me on the right onramp, for one. Secondly, there are like ten lanes when you come up on the toll booths, and I was NOWHERE NEAR the rightmost one, and it's not like Magellan told me to get to the right lane in time to do that.
So I have to pay the damn toll and go accross the Bay Bridge, screaming and cursing all the way. It tells me to get off at Treasure Island, and even though I am seething from its last instructions I do it because I figure I can U it on the island and not have to go to San Francisco. Magellan then proceeds to send me around the island and back to the Bay Bridge, STILL HEADED WEST. In other words, I just took a spin around Treasure Fucking Island for shits and giggles, except I was really screaming the entire time and have you ever had to MERGE onto a BRIDGE!?
I called dad, had a hissyfit, vowed to run over my Magellan with the car, got to San Francisco, did a U turn, got back on the Bay Bridge, found the 80, and turned that traitorous bastard off for the last time. I am shopping right now for its replacement.
I guess the moral of that story is I shouldn't skip church. Other things I should not have done: got a friggin GPS without researching it, and lose the damn warranty.
ROSCOE'S CHICKEN AND WAFFLES, BITCHES!
Roscoe was a genius, this is true. My meal was artery clogging heaven. I've decided that its a good thing there isn't one of these resturants within driving distance of me because I would be soooo fat, I am in such love with this place.
We also went on a small scale shopping spree where I bought a dress at Buffalo Exchange, a 40% off Demi at Victoria Secret, three books, three tshirts (one of which doesnt really fit but dammit I'm wearing it anyway), a scarf, some leggings that also don't fit, a load of baked goods, and an Ugly Doll.
On Saturday we drove back up to Santa Cruz. Poor Bill, we pretty much spent the last half of the trip making him play Would You Rather? where most of the options involved furries or the sparklecock.
Yesterday I saw Julie and Julia with Lis's mom, who aparently is the only one on the planet who will see this film with me without flaking out. Streep was as fabulous as I knew she would be, and its worth seeing the movie just for her. Amy Adams was all right. She swings back and forth from annoying as hell to nearly sympathetic. Some of her annoying parts were actually the fault of corny lines that would have given a much better actress a run for her money (but a much better actress probably could have pulled it off). The writing was just plain better for the Julia Child parts. I don't know how that happened exactly, but if you add all the good up you have a movie that is 75% gold, and the other 25% is bareable enough.
But after the movie, when I get to the Oakland part of my trek back, is where things start to go bad. First of all, I'd planned to unpack some of the stuff I'd brought on the way up and left in Lis's room last week. But when I get to my room (yes, my room, I paid the damn rent) its a mess because someone else has been staying in it.
Okay, fine, they were supposed to be out but I wasn't too worked up. Even though I paid the rent I hadn't technically moved in yet so...okay, nothing to be too upset over (thouch come to think of it I wish I'd been told about this as yeah, I DID pay the damn rent). Anyway the girl who was staying in it, who was also the renter of that room until July, came and informed me that she'd be picking up the furniture she'd left there WEEKS ago. I don't know why she didn't pick up her shit before now, but after all this time we pretty much assumed she was leaving it there for good. So I'd been under the assumption I was getting a furnished room.
And you know, I'm fine with her taking her stuff back, but I am not fine with the inconvenience. The more I think about it, the more pissed I get, so I'm angier now than I was yesterday. She could have friggin told SOMEONE in the house she was coming back for her shit, she could have had the manners to move her shit out in a timely manner, but now I have like three days to get a friggin van and get my nephews to help me move in because if I'm not getting the furniture then I have to bring my own, something I'd not planned time to do because I didn't think I would have to. To put the icing on it, she didn't give a definite time for when she's coming back for her shit. I believe she just said "I'm coming back later" or something to that effect. This is something I plan to resolve tomorrow, because I need to move in Thursday, Friday at the latest and if her shit is still in my room it is going in the yard, and she better not give me sass about grasstains on the matress because she's the one who left it in MY ROOM.
If I was going to be a REAL bitch about this I'd calculate the days since she's vacated. If its over thirty, then legally she's relinqushed claim to anything she left.
Anyway, after that lovely news I head home--and that's where the fun really starts. First of all my Magellan GPS device did that thing where it thinks I'm completely somewhere else when I start it up. The dumb thing is very picky about being turned off and then turned on at a different location and takes forever to sync. While I'm waiting for it to sync, which takes 10-20 mins usually(!), I decide I'm just going to get on the freeway that I think it is. Of course the freeway I picked was wrong, but at least I was headed east, ya know? I was on the 580, which I believe eventually does sync up with the 80 of give you a junction or whatever. The point is, I was going east when the Magellan kicked in and told me to turn around.
I should have known better when I bought this thing. Why am I taking instructions from somoene who couldn't find the East Indies?
Click to viewAnyway, it tells me to get off the freeway and get back on going West, which I do. Let me tell you, the route Magellan picked to get me to the 80 was by far the least efficient route it could have possibly done. It sends me to the friggin BAY BRIDGE, where it tells me to do a U turn. A U TURN!
Now, according to my father, if you get in the rightmost lane right before the toll booths, there is some kind of way to make a "double right" and get to the 80 that way, which I assume is what my stupidass Magellan was trying to make me do. Now, first of all, there are much better ways to get to the 80 from the 580. Like getting me off near Telegraph and getting me on the right onramp, for one. Secondly, there are like ten lanes when you come up on the toll booths, and I was NOWHERE NEAR the rightmost one, and it's not like Magellan told me to get to the right lane in time to do that.
So I have to pay the damn toll and go accross the Bay Bridge, screaming and cursing all the way. It tells me to get off at Treasure Island, and even though I am seething from its last instructions I do it because I figure I can U it on the island and not have to go to San Francisco. Magellan then proceeds to send me around the island and back to the Bay Bridge, STILL HEADED WEST. In other words, I just took a spin around Treasure Fucking Island for shits and giggles, except I was really screaming the entire time and have you ever had to MERGE onto a BRIDGE!?
I called dad, had a hissyfit, vowed to run over my Magellan with the car, got to San Francisco, did a U turn, got back on the Bay Bridge, found the 80, and turned that traitorous bastard off for the last time. I am shopping right now for its replacement.
I guess the moral of that story is I shouldn't skip church. Other things I should not have done: got a friggin GPS without researching it, and lose the damn warranty.