Pet Peeves
I hate when skinny girls rail on and on about how they are fat, or worse, how being thin is a curse because "I can't find clothes that fit me". Being thin is SO not an issue compared to having a weight problem. Ditto people whose yardstick of success is school results and who (not so) secretly look down their noses at you if they're not up to par.
I really really hate when companies hire stupid receptionists. The front desk is the gate to the whole company, the least you could do is hire someone with a marginal level of competence. Like that time I called a company, asked if I could leave a message and the girl reluctantly sighed and hemmed before saying yes, putting her hand over the mouthpiece and shouting into the background: "Does anybody have a pen?". And how can you possibly need to check if your company has a communications department? If you don't already know this information, you probably shouldn't be working there.
I can't stand when people name their children strange, foreign-sounding names and then can't pronounce them. I mean, it's fine if you want to go and call your son Pierre, but to then teach him to say it the way you'd pronounce a word describing a walkway over the water makes my hair stand on end. And do you really want to name your kid something senseless like Aloha or Engracia that is going to get her kicked around the playground? Really? Still? All right then, be my guest.
Don't tell me how to drive, I'll just slam on the brakes of the car in the middle of the road; don't call psychologists "shrinks" if you don't understand what they do. DON'T barge into my room without knocking, it's just insanely disrespectful. If I stop you on the streets to ask a question, don't roll your eyes or brush me off, EVERYONE has time for a polite response even if it's just "no, thank you." I've probably been standing there for hours and when I say I'm not selling anything, I mean it.
Don't bitch about journalists and how inaccurate or lazy they have been in writing a story until you've had to walk the streets yourself, searching for newsmakers for hours, persuading dozens of different people to talk and taking pains to edit stories over and over again to make sure they're balanced. Don't accuse us of having an agenda when all we're trying to do is bring you news as it happens and don't criticise coverage unless you're willing to look beyond the simple words and paragraphs on the page and see the tearing pain and effort it took to get them there.
I loathe accidentally kicking or cutting myself, which, I hate to admit, happens quite a lot. I hate when I'm sleeping and am woken up loudly and harshly, it makes my head ache with a sudden vengeance. I hate hate hate off-handed, racist comments that show ignorance vis: "The family should be representative of Singapore, that is, Chinese".
And finally, DON'T you fucking dare ask if my dog is a chihuahua. He doesn't look like one, and you wouldn't like it if I asked if your son was a girl either.
Phewf! And on that cheer-making note, I love humanity again!
Now that I've got that off my chest, time to go and get someone hot on it. Yeah, bebeh!
I really really hate when companies hire stupid receptionists. The front desk is the gate to the whole company, the least you could do is hire someone with a marginal level of competence. Like that time I called a company, asked if I could leave a message and the girl reluctantly sighed and hemmed before saying yes, putting her hand over the mouthpiece and shouting into the background: "Does anybody have a pen?". And how can you possibly need to check if your company has a communications department? If you don't already know this information, you probably shouldn't be working there.
I can't stand when people name their children strange, foreign-sounding names and then can't pronounce them. I mean, it's fine if you want to go and call your son Pierre, but to then teach him to say it the way you'd pronounce a word describing a walkway over the water makes my hair stand on end. And do you really want to name your kid something senseless like Aloha or Engracia that is going to get her kicked around the playground? Really? Still? All right then, be my guest.
Don't tell me how to drive, I'll just slam on the brakes of the car in the middle of the road; don't call psychologists "shrinks" if you don't understand what they do. DON'T barge into my room without knocking, it's just insanely disrespectful. If I stop you on the streets to ask a question, don't roll your eyes or brush me off, EVERYONE has time for a polite response even if it's just "no, thank you." I've probably been standing there for hours and when I say I'm not selling anything, I mean it.
Don't bitch about journalists and how inaccurate or lazy they have been in writing a story until you've had to walk the streets yourself, searching for newsmakers for hours, persuading dozens of different people to talk and taking pains to edit stories over and over again to make sure they're balanced. Don't accuse us of having an agenda when all we're trying to do is bring you news as it happens and don't criticise coverage unless you're willing to look beyond the simple words and paragraphs on the page and see the tearing pain and effort it took to get them there.
I loathe accidentally kicking or cutting myself, which, I hate to admit, happens quite a lot. I hate when I'm sleeping and am woken up loudly and harshly, it makes my head ache with a sudden vengeance. I hate hate hate off-handed, racist comments that show ignorance vis: "The family should be representative of Singapore, that is, Chinese".
And finally, DON'T you fucking dare ask if my dog is a chihuahua. He doesn't look like one, and you wouldn't like it if I asked if your son was a girl either.
Phewf! And on that cheer-making note, I love humanity again!
Now that I've got that off my chest, time to go and get someone hot on it. Yeah, bebeh!
She said, she said at 4:06 pm
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