emsk: (Default)

Dear fellow users of Auckland public transport – fuck you. You are the reason I prefer to drive.


Specifically, fuck the two females who refused to let me walk past them this morning, despite polite excuse-me’s and then less polite pushing. Thanks, guys, it’s not like I really wanted to catch the two buses that you wouldn’t let me move to flag down, just so you didn’t have to move TWO MORE STEPS on the fucking platform. Just peachy, I appreciate it. Now I’m ten minutes later than I wanted, you’re on your precious bus, and also, telling me to fuck off? Yeah, that would be why I called you a bitch.


You might want to work on that.




Originally published at spinneretta.com
» Click here « to leave any comments.

emsk: (Default)
I'm certainly not above being a memesheep here - and, really, the last ten years have been full of changes. As you'd expect when you transition from your teens to your twenties, I suppose.

2000
Finished high school. Spent a fairly miserable year as all my school friends were no longer at school (either being a year ahead or having chosen not to do seventh form). Graduated high school with pretty damn good grades, all things considered. Started going out with Cyclenut.

2001
First year of university, studying business. Mum had surgery to remove an ovary. Stressed out about money. Survived.

2002
Made the decision to switch into computing, having realised that I'd stab someone with a letter opener if I stayed in accounting. Started teaching computing.

2003
First year of the computing degree. It was a good choice! Was mostly miserable in my home town, had no local friends (although there were one or two people who I periodically went to movies and such with, they tended to be less than wonderful). Lived for the chances I got to leave and visit Cyclenut, mostly.

2004
Uni uni uni, work work work. Started making Internetfriends, beginning with Colitis I think. Started cycling and swimming, and running more seriously. Originally mostly due to Cyclenut's influence, I enjoyed it. Eventually ended up swimming with a tri training squad, although that may have been in 2005 now I think about it. Started working at my first helldesk role. I enjoyed that job.

2005
One of my worst years, and yet I achieved a hell of a lot. Got Internet access at the maternal abode for the first time. The final project at uni, which was a horrible series of ups and downs and disappointments. I eventually passed, though. Spent my final semester getting burned out and doing too much. Miserable in my home town, was officially Nellie No Friends. Cyclenut and I parted ways. Met Internet friends in real life. Finally sucked it up, went to GP, diagnosed with depression. Did a Special K triathlon. Met Tobermory. Graduated. Made decision to leave childhood faith while planning to leave home. Went out with my workmates for drinks. Went to the Christmas party. Spent time with friends in Auckland and Hamilton. Rhonda the Honda died, and I was obliged to rely on shanks pony or my bike for transport.

2006
Graduation ceremony, did the walk in the silly hats. Worked for the web-dev company, worked for EDS (worst. decision. ever.) Bought my first car. Moved to Auckland, on April Fool's day which I still think is hilarious. Officially left childhood faith. Tobermory moved to New Zealand. Purchased Spinneretta. Dyed my hair (went through a rainbow of atrocious colours, in fact). Purchased various stupidly cheap appliances off Trademe until we could afford non-shitty ones. Had first birthday. The couch attempted to eat Reiver.

2007
Left EDS. Discovered how truly psychologically destructive that place was. Started working for my current workplace. Reconnected with Pstyken. Tobermory was hospitalised for the first time with stomach issues. Candycat moved in from the neighbour's place. Played World of Warcraft. Cooked a lot, had various work / money dramas with Tobermory's revolving contracts. Got continually sick with various lung-infection type bugs owing to shitty damp horrible flat. Survived.

2008
My beloved Sharkie-car died. Bought the Scoobaru and Buzby. Tobermory bought a house! Moved into said house. Lots of drama related to house buying and so on. Tobermory got residency! and much rejoicing was done. Moved into house, bought furniture and various necessaries. Spent several months wondering how the hell we'd survived in the tiny flat of hell. Unoffically promoted internally as trainer of new staff, etc. Parked Buzby under an SUV in an attempt to avoid another accident. HOUSE! Had our first Christmas and New Year's parties here.

2009
Made a lot of jam. Attempted cake decorating. We bought a lawnmower and I became the de facto lawnmower of the family. Met the Tobermory-parents for the first time. Was proposed to in front of said parents, burst into tears even though I more or less knew it was coming. Acquired the Tigra and Boomer cats from the SPCA. Thaqui moved in. Bought a piano. Promoted to team leader. Dramas with the Ford, leading to it's eventual return. Attempted gardening. Adjusted to having an entire house available instead of two very small rooms. Mum had dental surgery, during which the family suddenly realised that I was actually a grownup and capable of looking after my mother instead of the other way around.

It's funny how summing up the events doesn't really cover just how much I've changed from age sixteen to age twenty six. Still, here I am. And I'm happy.

Originally published at Spinneretta.
» Click here « to leave any comments.

emsk: (Default)
This has been One of Those WeekMonthYears.

Car issues (multiple). Electrical repairs. Dishwasher broke down. Spa pool broke down (twice).

I don't recall if I've mentioned the problems with the Ford. But after the many and varied issues, we gave up and sold it back to the dealership.

The giving-up point with the car was the day, about a month ago, that Tobermory picked it up from a service, drove off, and broke down at the lights. I received a phonecall that went something like this:
"I'm at the traffic lights, and the fucking Ford has fucking died. Car just went *chugchugDOOooooo.....* and everything turned off."
"What?"
"Car died. Now it won't start."
"What..."
"Dead as a doornail. The highway patrol had to bump me off the road."
"You have got to be fucking kidding me."

It turned out to be an alternator fault, which seemed a bit crap on a car that'd only done 60k. But, anyway. We went to the dealership, bitched, eventually accepted a price that was a bit less than we wanted but not entirely unreasonable, and departed for home.

Tobermory was in the Subaru, having come from home; I was in the Mazda, having come from work.

Five minutes later, I was calling Tobermory.

"Guess what?"
"What..?"
"I'm at the traffic lights! And the Mazda has died!"
"What..."
"Just sitting here and car went * chugchugDOOooooo....*, everything turned off, and now it won't start."
"You have got to be fucking kidding me."

I love the AA. It did take the better part of three hours to get me home, as I'd helpfully broken down at one of Auckland's busiest intersections at about 5.30pm. Someone nice pulled over and helped me push the car off the road, so at least I wasn't in danger.

Ninety minutes later, during which time I sat in the car and conversed with my mother lacking anything more interesting to do, the chap from the AA turned up, stuck various electronic prodding devices in my engine, and announced that my battery mumblety mumblety, ignition module mumblety broken, mumblety towtruck.

The towtruck was a further thirty minutes away. I took the opportunity to go to the nearest Starbucks, buy a coffee so as to be able to use their toilet, and walked back to the car just in time to see the towtruck two blocks away. We had a little race down two blocks (he won), and I ran up to the car just in time to receive the phonecall from the towing company announcing that the towie was there and I was not.

So! Car will be delivered, somehow, to the Place of Fixing on Monday.

In the meantime, I would like my life to stop containing things that fall apart.

emsk: (Default)
While driving Pstyken home on Sunday, the car decided to develop a nasty whiiine. The whiiine developed into a hooowl, and then a graunch when trying to turn corners. I decided that this was likely an issue with the power steering, informed Tobermory of same, and we arranged to take it back to the garage from whence it came*. After all, it's only lived with us for a month...

I drove it in Tuesday morning (which was the soonest they could book it). I deliberately pulled in tightly, so that the maximum of horrible noises** could be arranged, and did the same while parking it. By the time I got out of the car, two salesmen and two managers had come haring over to find out what on earth was going on.

I politely explained that I was the young lady with the Ford with power steering troubles, and everything was yes ma'am, no ma'am, here is a Mazda 6 as a courtesy car ma'am. I had three of them arranging things - one chap finding insurance papers, one getting keys, general running about in my service. There was also the youngest salesman, who, on driving the car down to the service department, ran back up going "Man, what the HELL did you DO TO IT?" He was awarded death glares from his manager, and told in no uncertain terms to go fetch the Mazda for me. I was highly amused.

(Warranties are a lovely thing. It turns out the power steering pump had completely failed. )

Both Tobermory and I are still losing weight. Neither of us can entirely work out why, as we're not trying very hard - maybe we're eating better? Exercising more, having to run up and down the stairs at home? Sleeping sounder? Tapeworm? Anyway, this culminated in my need to buy a new pair of jeans, as my existing pair are a) two years old b) getting that dangerous white tinge at the seams and thin at the butt c) falling off. Owing to the weight loss, I have no idea what size my butt currently is. So, I took four pairs of jeans into the fitting rooms, and a very helpful young saleslady followed me. Knowing this is a fairly slim-cut line, I optimistically tried on the size of pants I usually buy at old-lady stores.

Her: "How do those look?"
Me: "Weird. I think they're too tight."
Her: *opens door, investigates* "Actually, they're a size too large. Here, try the..."
Me: "Uh, how do I put this. I am fat. There is no way I'll fit those."
Her: "You know how they say the customer is always right? Well, sometimes they're actually wrong, and please, try these on."
Me: *mutter grumble, shut door, change pants*
Me: *stare in mirror*
Her: *open door, grin* "See? Told you so!"

I bought the smaller size. They were $30 more than I intended to pay for a pair of jeans, but they're a skinny bitch line that I haven't been able to fit into since before I moved to Auckland. I'm feeling rather pleased with myself, in fact.


* Second hand car purchased from a dealership. We were hoping for good things, but this was the third trip back in a month!
** I was getting a lot of looks from passers-by on my way in. Apparently the nasty noises were worse from the outside of the car.

Originally published at spinneretta.com.
» Click here « to leave any comments.

emsk: (Default)

Last night, boy was sleeping on the couch.

3am, I walked out into the lounge, because a) bed cold b) thirsty.

I was greeted by a bloodcurdling violent roar from Boy, mid-launching himself off the couch to attack, because he woke up convinced I was an intruder. (Or a ghost. He is not entirely sure about this, as he’d been having bad dreams about ghosts as my pale form wandered out…)

Thus, a few frantic seconds of “nonono, T, it’s me, T, it’s OK, it’s OK, it’s me.”

Hooray for being female and thus verbally quick – because otherwise, he and I are both reasonably certain I’d’ve been bodychecked in whichever direction was easiest. This would most likely have been into / out of the lounge window.

This would be sub-optimal.

I have a sneaking suspicion that the neighbours thought I was attempting to kill the lad, but fortunately no-one intervened.

In good news, the Sharkie car failed her warrant of fitness. Not with the over-one-thousand-dollars worth of engine work I’d expected – but with a blown park lightbulb, requiring only that the light fitting be removed for said lightbulb replacement.

I am thus OVERJOYED and THRILLED and HOORAH. The Sharkie is roadworthy and legal once more!

Originally published at kiwi geek. You can comment here or there.

Profile

emsk: (Default)
emsk

November 2015

S M T W T F S
1234567
891011 121314
15161718192021
22232425262728
2930     

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 22nd, 2017 08:46 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios