Well, it's that time again. Time to clear out some crankiness. There are just a few things irritating the heck out of me these days.
Let's start with Pearle Vision. When I was in Richmond, the frame of my glasses broke. Sidepiece just snapped. Didn't think they could be put back together, but put them away and bought a pair of drugstore glasses to tide me over. On my return, I took them back to where I'd bought them in February of 2009. Turns out the warranty was for one year. One year for a frame that cost $160. For the frames alone. The clerk most affably extended the warranty and it turns out that the warranty is good for half the cost of the defective goods. So I picked out new frames of a more traditional type that won't snap and forked over my $80. Pearle will cover the replacement lenses and the other half of the frame. But still. I think this is just outrageous.
Not outrageous, but annoying is the phenomenon of some bloggers now including advertisements on their blogs. It's not enough that we visit their blogs? That we admire their quilts? That we link them on our blogs?That we buy the books they have written? Is that not enough? Apparently not. Now we have to see ads for Werther's candy and other random stuff when we go to see what kind of quilt the blogger has in the works. Slows down the loading of the page, too. Sheesh. I mean, really!
Have saved the worst for last, and I'm dead serious about this one [you should pardon the pun]. Someone whom I've just "unfriended" on Facebook posted this as her status:
Sharlene likes DEAR LORD, THIS YEAR YOU TOOK MY FAVORITE ACTOR, PATRICK SWAYZIE. YOU TOOK MY FAVORITE ACTRESS, FARAH FAWCETT. YOU TOOK MY FAVORITE SINGER, MICHAEL JACKSON. I JUST WANTED TO LET YOU KNOW, MY FAVORITE PRESIDENT IS BARACK OBAMA. AMEN.
This person is advocating prayers that the President of the United States will die. Sorry, friends, but I cannot take this lightly even if it was meant as some sort of a terrible "joke," spelling errors aside. The past year and a half have brought about an enormous decrease in civility in our country and I wonder where, when, and how it will stop. And just for the record, Sharlene is not an angry twelve-year-old. She's a woman in her early sixties who, last I knew, was a teacher in a Catholic school!
Okay. Feeling some relief at having gotten these complaints off my chest. Back to Business As Usual.
*Cranky Old Woman, Near Philadelphia