The optical shop has dicked around with my new glasses since March and they still haven't gotten it right. We finally determined that the frames I had brought in were the problem; apparently they were made for sunglasses and not for prescription wear. I didn't know there was a difference, and they sell the Oakley brand too. I think it's bullshit, but I went ahead and bought a new pair of frames from there. I don't think I care for them as well, but shit, I need new glasses. My current frames have bitten the dust. I can't even get rid of the empty frames because the staff scratched the shit out of them, taking them apart and putting them together a million times. They must have bad karma, being from Shay and all. Anyway, needless to say, I won't be going to that optical shop again.
The kitty cats are so hot. I've never seen a cat panting before. While panting makes dogs look friendly, it makes cats look crazy. I let them out on the balcony but they can't be there unsupervised; Missy would likely go after a bug and leap off, and from the third floor the outcome wouldn't be good. Missy is the least intelligent of the three, I think. I'm a little pissed off at her too, because she chewed the hand of one of the dolls I'm working on. Luckily I have a matching body to swap with, but still.
My dolly buddy said that one of my repaints looks like Paris Hilton. Crap. I'll never be able to look at the doll the same way again.
Gottdammit, fucking Missy just gouged the shit out of my leg.
12:36 PM
Goddamn apartment management sent around a letter notifying us that they're entering our apartments tomorrow. Nothing pisses me off more, knowing those fuckers can enter my home whenever they fucking feel like it. Part of it comes from a feeling of powerlessness stemming from first, my upbringing, and secondly, the military, where there was NO privacy whatsoever. And of course, it is true that I've got something to hide: my mess and my cats, which I'm not supposed to have. I fucking hate apartments and busybody managers. They used to leave us the hell alone.
posted by Newpeep, N.D. (neurotic depressive) @ 9:44 AM
1 Comments:
Man, I'm glad Creepers is okay!
In this instance they did give 24 hours' notice, but for me that's not enough. ;-) In the apartment complex I lived before this one, they entered all the time without prior notification and didn't leave notices that they'd been there, either. I only knew they were there because they always locked the soft bolt on my door (I never bothered). I phoned to complain at the leasing office and was always told, "I'm very sorry, it'll never happen again." My ass. Horrible place.
I know, I'm 38 and have never owned property; my parents were property owners in their early 20's. It's just the way things are. Unless you're my brother--he and his wife owned a home in their twenties as well. But they're stiffs.
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