(no subject)
So I had to get a look at this new update page. Hmm. I don't like the top half, with that grey box looking like it's sitting on top of the subject field, but I think the bottom half looks much more user-friendly than before.
I'm not completely unpacked yet ie. the floor of my room is still a hash. I suppose I won't consider the room "finished" until I have my posters up and the sofa in. But my CDs and books are all unpacked, my desk drawers and clothes are sorted, and I've burnt candles, played music, slept in the room twice now, and cooked in the kitchen, so I count myself as "moved in".
I have a complaint about the kitchen. The fridge is too small. This kitchen's supposed to serve four people; the fridge has three shelves. What the hell?! And the very bottom shelf? Stuff freezes to it. I kid you not. I had to take my hairdryer to get out a jar of mayo that was embedded in ice about 3 or 4cm deep. Somebody put a chopping board on the bottom so we can set stuff on it, but that's only half of the shelf that's usable. And whoever owns that chopping board ain't never gonna get it back, oh hell no, it's stuck fast.
And who the hell thought that a good place to put a fridge is right behind the kitchen door? I mean, *slap!* Numpties.
[Additional Note: Cool. When you put in your mood, you get to preview your icon. I liken :)]
Spent today buying stuff - oven trays, plug extensions, painkillers, chopping boards, a new CD rack. Which brings me to Rhonda's rant of the day. I have a pay-as-you-go mobile from O2. On Saturday I go to the Centra shop on Botanic Avenue to top it up. Girl puts the card in, has a little trouble with it, gets another guy to come over and help her out. Anyway. I get my receipt, go out, check my balance. Nothing has come up. I wait a while. Still nothing. I go back to Centra, they say, "Not our problem. The money's gone through, you need to talk to O2." (I should say here that the girl who served me admitted that she wasn't supposed to be working the phone top-up machine. I'm sorry, what the hell?! If you're not supposed to be doing it, why are you doing it? And Centra, what the hell are you playing at, letting half-trained staff loose on the public on a Saturday afternoon?)
Well, I try to call O2, but their automatic system switches me directly to the top-up line. Over the weekend I start noticing discrepancies on the receipt. Like, the mobile number on it is not mine. And the top-up card ID number doesn't match mine either.
So I take the matter to the O2 shop. They say, "Go back to Centra. They got the number wrong."
I go back to Centra. And they say...
Guess.
Go on, guess.
"Not our problem. Go back to O2."
GRRAAWWRRRGRAWWRRRRGHHHHHHGRRRARGHHHHHH!!!! *eats Centra and O2 both*
I really don't know what could have happened, apart from untrained girl screwed my card up somehow >.<
I met Miss American-Upstairs (hm, sounds like a rock song) today. She's doing a Master's in Irish Politics and is very noisy. I hear her and her mates through my ceiling. Penny, the New Zealander from next-door, came knocking at my door last night to introduce herself. And I know her! *Falls off chair* Well, I've seen her around the library and campus, so it feels like I know her. She's lovely. She's in her final year of a PhD on Irish and Celtic Studies - something to do with the landscape. And Amanda, the Taiwanese girl, is in her first year of a PhD on James Joyce and postcolonialism. (Good luck to her. I can't stand Joyce.)
And I have very sore calf-muscles. I can't work out why.
I'm not completely unpacked yet ie. the floor of my room is still a hash. I suppose I won't consider the room "finished" until I have my posters up and the sofa in. But my CDs and books are all unpacked, my desk drawers and clothes are sorted, and I've burnt candles, played music, slept in the room twice now, and cooked in the kitchen, so I count myself as "moved in".
I have a complaint about the kitchen. The fridge is too small. This kitchen's supposed to serve four people; the fridge has three shelves. What the hell?! And the very bottom shelf? Stuff freezes to it. I kid you not. I had to take my hairdryer to get out a jar of mayo that was embedded in ice about 3 or 4cm deep. Somebody put a chopping board on the bottom so we can set stuff on it, but that's only half of the shelf that's usable. And whoever owns that chopping board ain't never gonna get it back, oh hell no, it's stuck fast.
And who the hell thought that a good place to put a fridge is right behind the kitchen door? I mean, *slap!* Numpties.
[Additional Note: Cool. When you put in your mood, you get to preview your icon. I liken :)]
Spent today buying stuff - oven trays, plug extensions, painkillers, chopping boards, a new CD rack. Which brings me to Rhonda's rant of the day. I have a pay-as-you-go mobile from O2. On Saturday I go to the Centra shop on Botanic Avenue to top it up. Girl puts the card in, has a little trouble with it, gets another guy to come over and help her out. Anyway. I get my receipt, go out, check my balance. Nothing has come up. I wait a while. Still nothing. I go back to Centra, they say, "Not our problem. The money's gone through, you need to talk to O2." (I should say here that the girl who served me admitted that she wasn't supposed to be working the phone top-up machine. I'm sorry, what the hell?! If you're not supposed to be doing it, why are you doing it? And Centra, what the hell are you playing at, letting half-trained staff loose on the public on a Saturday afternoon?)
Well, I try to call O2, but their automatic system switches me directly to the top-up line. Over the weekend I start noticing discrepancies on the receipt. Like, the mobile number on it is not mine. And the top-up card ID number doesn't match mine either.
So I take the matter to the O2 shop. They say, "Go back to Centra. They got the number wrong."
I go back to Centra. And they say...
Guess.
Go on, guess.
"Not our problem. Go back to O2."
GRRAAWWRRRGRAWWRRRRGHHHHHHGRRRARGHHHHHH!!!! *eats Centra and O2 both*
I really don't know what could have happened, apart from untrained girl screwed my card up somehow >.<
I met Miss American-Upstairs (hm, sounds like a rock song) today. She's doing a Master's in Irish Politics and is very noisy. I hear her and her mates through my ceiling. Penny, the New Zealander from next-door, came knocking at my door last night to introduce herself. And I know her! *Falls off chair* Well, I've seen her around the library and campus, so it feels like I know her. She's lovely. She's in her final year of a PhD on Irish and Celtic Studies - something to do with the landscape. And Amanda, the Taiwanese girl, is in her first year of a PhD on James Joyce and postcolonialism. (Good luck to her. I can't stand Joyce.)
And I have very sore calf-muscles. I can't work out why.