I don't even know where to start on this blog. But it basically all boils down to HOME.

Home is supposed to be your sanctuary - the place you can go and just shut the rest of the world out. Leave all your cares behind. And just...hide.

And for the most part, that is what my home is like.

Until recently.

ladystarblade and I live in an apartment complex. Our building is basically on the main drag. And as of late, you can really tell the types of characters who live there.

Just last weekend, we had the cops on our little stretch four times. Once was for a gang fight. One was for a domestic dispute. One was for the pot smokers who live next door to us. And the other was for loud music blaring from one of the basement apartments.

The other day, ladystarblade and I were taking a walk around the complex as we do on the nicer days. And as we were walking, she stopped and backtracked. And there, laying on the pavement...was a syringe. I kid you not. Ew.

There was the dog shit incident, where a dog in our building decided to take a crap on the stairs up near our apartment door. This took five days for them to come and take care of and the notice they said was going to post...never did. There has been garbage sitting outside the door of our neighbor's apartment for over a week. In the summer weather...it STINKS. Bad. I've put in a complaint about this. No notice. And the bag remains. It's not as though these people don't ever leave their fucking apartment. How difficult is it to haul the bag down to the bin? And you've already heard my rant on the neighbors...

Then...there was the incident tonight. I get home from my guitar lesson and we head inside. I no sooner have gotten out of the shower that there is knocking on the door. I look through the peep hole and there is my downstairs neighbor. So, I open the door and she informs me that one of the children in the complex just hit my car with a rock. A big rock that's about the size of a peach. UGH!! This pisses me off. So, I get dressesd and go downstairs to see if there is any damage. There isn't...so the child got to live.

But...WTF??!!

First of all, apparently this child is a juvenile delinquent in the making. And he's always causing problems. He runs around with no parental supervision. And that's just the way he is. But if he had put a dent or mark on my car, I would have been knocking on his mother's door and giving her an earful!! And it wouldn't have been nice either. That is a brand new car.

Secondly...it has come to our attention that everyone in this complex pays LESS than we do. Some friends of ours pay over $100 less a month. The people below us pay $50 less a month and $10 less on the water/sewage/trash bill. And the apartment complex has the tenacity to laugh at me when I call them to negotiate a lower rent?! Excuse me?! I mean, out and out laughed. Apparently they even consulted corporate and immediately they said "NO!"

So, I was then told that it was on a unit-to-unit basis that rent levels are given. If a kitchen has old cabinets or if the carpet is shabby or what have you, the rent is cheaper.

So...this pissed me off because the people who had our unit before us had a dog. A dog that pissed on the carpeting in the living room and dining room area. There are stains that we've been covering with rugs since we moved in. We didn't know they were there when we did our initial walkthrough because they had JUST washed the carpet.

Well, I was told on the phone that they would see that we would get new carpet in. While I love this...the fact of the matter is...this means we have to move a lot of breakable stuff out of the way to let them get in with the new carpet. Honestly. They were supposed to call me back on that...and I haven't heard back.

This has become a trend here at this apartment complex. I put in a request and it gets ignored. Really, the only thing that has been done with any speed recently was that they put our screen door back up. A screen door that has been covered in snow, stepped on, rained on as it laid on our porch because it fell off, so now I need to vacuum it. *sigh*

The truth is...we're looking for another apartment complex to live in. One with comperable rates. One that we don't have to put up with crappy management and...wow...the newest additions. Because when we moved here, this was a great place to live. It has only gone downhill from there.

We'll sign our lease once more. But we're on a search to find somewhere else to call home. Because this place just doesn't feel like home anymore. Not one bit.

I've blogged about this...sort of...before, but after today's trip to the grocery store, I felt the need to blog about it again.

FOOD PRICES!

WTF??!!

This is what ladystarblade and I bought this week during our grocery shopping:



24 pack of toilet paper
English muffins
Eazy Mac (4 pack)
Oyster crackers
Box of 100 calorie packs of Doritos
1 gallon water
1 gallon milk
Pack of AAA batteries
1 pack Ranch dressing
1 pack shredded cheddar cheese
1 pack shredded mozzarella cheeze
1 12 pack Diet Mt. Dew
Another item that we had to purchase...very necessary...is a gift...cannot say...

And this came to just about $45.00

You know...for $40.00, we used to be able to fill the cart. I mean, seriously fill the cart. And for $45, we are able to get 13 items. Does anyone else see something wrong with this?!

And this is the worst part...this is stuff that we needed for this week. We pretty much have what we can do for food this week in the cabinets and freezers. This was for lunches, snacks, and the usual items that we get every week. So...um...what the fuck gives?

I'm sorry, but this is beyond ridiculous. Granted, I told ladystarblade I might just cry again, I didn't. Because while the bills keep rolling in, and my bank account dwindles, the fact that we could buy so LITTLE food for what we'd normally spend and fill a cart pissed me off rather than upset me this time.

And this is at Wal-Mart!! God forbid if we had done our grocery shopping at Kroger! We'd have 6 items at most, I bet.

And why is it like this? Because as gas prices rise, so does everything else. Thank you inflation!! Thank you for making my paycheck so much harder to hold onto. I keep saying I need to save, I need to save. How the hell am I supposed to save when I can only get 13 items from Wal-Mart for grocery shopping?!

I just don't know how in the world the people in America are going to get through this recession. Because we have to go to work, and we have to go certain places...and we can't afford the gas, and we can't afford the items at places like grocery stores...so how are we going to climb out? Food prices rise as vegetable plants are wiped out by storms, heat, etc. Bread prices have skyrocketed because of the cost of wheat rising. Milk...Milk was $3.58/gal at Wal-Mart!!! That's almost double what we're used to spending on milk!

This is a time when companies aren't giving raises (they can't afford to), and paychecks are staying the same while the cost of living is rising. But the government insists that we're not in a recession...and we're not heading toward another depression.

I beg to differ.

*sigh*

And is there an end in sight for any of this? Nope. There isn't. And I doubt prices will drop anytime soon. Gas prices steadily climb each week. Everything else follows suit.

We've given up driving over to Louisville for things because we can't afford to use up the gas. Do you realize that Louisville is a simple drive over a bridge? Yet, we can't afford it.

And it sucks. And it won't get any better. So we have to learn how to deal with it...

Without putting ourselves into debt.

Wish us luck.

In the entertainment industry, there is a distinct line between true fans and those who have other plans. The ones who have wedding dates and children's names all picked out for the future.

I have a name for these fans.

Über-fans.

When I think of these people a few words come to mind:

• Creepy
  
• Stalker
  
• Trying-to-hard
  
• Scary
  
• Delusional
  
• Future inmate
  

...among others.

And here's why I think it's an issue...

Everyone is a fan of someone. Be it a sports figure, an actor, a musician, an author...we all look up to someone. We all hold someone up as the pinnacle of something. And that's okay. Because we aren't the type of people to stand outside their homes in the middle of a downpour thinking that any moment they'll open up the door and let us inside and get us warm again. It's just not normal.

And über-fans are not super fans. Super fans are completely different. Super fans know their limits. They might come out to support their idols, but they aren't going to expect anything beyond a good play, a good story, a good movie, or a good show. They'll buy the merchandise. They'll learn the lyrics and sing along. They'll scream and shout. That's okay. That's showing support.

The über-fans do all this too. But somehow the wires get crossed and they misinterpret simple messages. When said famous (or semi-famous) person speaks to you after an event, this does not mean that you are immediately in their circle of friends. They don't really know who you are, but if you act all hyper and googly-eyed, or just plane scary...they will remember you. They'll remember why you now have a restraining order against you and why you can't come within fifty feet of them.

Okay...so, perhaps it hasn't reached that stage...yet.

The thing is, über-fans are completely capable of reaching that level of...creepiness. These are the people who expect a bit more. A personal message on the inside of a book cover or on a baseball, or a movie poster or glossy picture, or even a CD booklet. These are the people who expect the star to recognize them on sight, and whether it's invited or not, might even throw their arms around said star in greeting, expect to be known by name and recognized, and chatted up about...whatever bullshit they choose, and then follow said star around while they try to mingle and interact with others. Oh...they probably also prefer it if they are in the Top 10 on their MySpace page too...

So here's the thing:

Über-fans do make the band money. They promote. They buy merchadise (one of everything...and here's cash, bb!). They get word out. But here's what they don't do. They don't make people want to go to shows because they're destined to be there. They don't respect that other people are fans too. Like when a baseball, a t-shirt, a CD, a drum stick is tossed into the audience...if you already have nine...it's okay to let someone else get it. Really! Your useless little collection ain't impressing anyone but you and your little minions who think you really have an in with said famous (or semi-famous) person. They're as delusional as the über-fan and should also be destroyed...er...I mean dealt with in the same manner.

Pointing and laughing behind their backs.

No.

I'm kidding.

The thing is, there is little to be done about über-fans. Because they are everywhere. They're at sporting events, readings, at appearances and concerts. They are numerous. And they are unstoppable. But they tarnish the good name those of us who are TRUE fans like to give off. We're not wearing something to impress them. We're not throwing ourselves at them. And we sure as hell are not planning tea parties, sleep overs, and future weddings where they are the only other participant...in our minds. Nope.

Because of this wonderful thing called reality.

Stop making our time less enjoyable. And please...for the love of god...start acting your age.

Oh...and at the next event you're at...lay low. It will mean the world to not only us...but the people you stalk...er...worship...er...admire.

I've blogged about fans before...but I have to call attention to one in particular!

She belongs to the Fiction Plane fandom...and she was one of the Fiction Plane Vultures™ that I spoke about in my review. Apparently, after seeing them for the first time when they opened for The Police back in July 2007...she went a little crazy.

And why do I care?

Because, honestly...if I was a musican, she would creep me the hell out.

I'll start with her blog on July 17, 2007. This is also the first time she posted on the Fiction Plane MySpace page. She called it "a Fairy tale." She talked about how she was a little girl and had a crush on Sting and she decided she wanted to know more about him and by the age of 11, she discovered he had a son, who was 6...and that's where it began...

Her blog goes on to say that she daydreamed of meeting Joe Sumner, falling in love, falling in love, and then having Sting for a father-in-law instead of as a husband of her own.

Okay...weirdness.

She goes on to describe how Joe's eyes met hers for the first time while singing "It's a Lie" while she was bouncing up and down and pumping her fist in the air. She said he winked at her. And she melted.

More weirdness.

So...being that I saw her at the show...and apparently she was at the Covington, KY show as well (which I was at)...I also found out that she often posts what shows she is attending at least 10 times on the MySpace page. Yeah. We get it. So do they. She often posts just to tell them how much she loves them. Okay...that isn't...too odd.

But seriously??

Oh...and her Occupation listed on MySpace: Professional Fiction Plane Fan & Concert Attendee

Right....

So...here's what I've been trying to figure out in order to prove that's she's not a freak:

1.) At the age of 11 (she's now 36), how did she find out the information on Sting's family?

2.) Does she realize she's coming across as creepy?

3.) That blog...take it down. Seriously, you delusional crazy woman! It's not doing your 'street cred' any good.

4.) All your constant messaging on their MySpace page...they know you love them. In fact, you love them in a very icky, very scary, very bad way. Don't think they don't realize this.

Yeah...the more I find out about her...the more I see of her posts on the matter...the more I just want to tell her what she's doing to the world of fandom.

Crazy fans like them ruin it for the rest of us. There's a fine line between being a fan and being obsessed.

I think she passed it.

That's all.

Oh, this morning was an icy mess of doom when it came to getting ready for work. After the ice storms, at least some people/places had a delay to let the sun come out and the weather to warm up and melt away the ice. Because...it took 5 minutes for ladystarblade to chip away at a small corner of my car's window. The ice was 1/4 of an inch thick on there.

Don't believe me? Here's a shot after I came out and started hammering away at the frickin' ice.

( Damn ice! )

All the while as I'm doing this, I'm cussing out Dr. A (the names have been changed/abbreviated to protect the guilty) for not calling a delay. Because, once again, this university prides itself on never closing and always being open. And after the early dismissal yesterday to which nothing happened until much later in the day anyway, Dr. A was apparently hesitant to let any more time slip through his fingers as far as employees go. Because, it's Friday...and there are very few students on campus since there are very few classes that actually run on Friday.

So, I was pissed and standing in ankle deep water, working on clearing the windshield. That got as far as this:

( More Damn Ice! )

until ladystarblade and I were able to get the ice off the vent system that can help melt the damn ice off the window. Remember...this is 1/4 of an inch thick.

So, cussing some more, and now not being able to feel my fingers, we leave that window be and go after the others. ladystarblade goes after the back window and THANK GOD that the defroster was working because it went a bit smoother:

( And EVEN MORE Damn Ice! )

So...here is where I get a bit bitchy...

Is it really worth risking people's lives on icy roads and parking lots in order to maintain your place as the university that NEVER closes/cancels? Because all it would take is one accident. And ladystarblade and I were out there for a good 45 minutes hammering off the ice that had accumulated over night. Had we been given a delay...we would have at least had the warming air and the sun to help melt off some of it. But NO!!

Nothing.

Apparently Dr. A doesn't care that we don't all have garages and not everyone can walk to the frickin' campus. Instead, we go out there and give our fingers frostbite peeling ice away and getting shards of it in our eyes as we hack away at the thick layer that covers the windows.

Yes, I am a bit bitter because it's absolutely ridiculous. I don't mind the fact that I'm coming into work. What I mind is that it's not about safety...it's about status. And Dr. A is just being selfish. Just because he's in walking distance of the campus doesn't mean we all are. Some of us live on hills (like ladystarblade and I). Some of us live on back roads.

Delay.

Add it to your vocabulary!

Seriously!

BULLSHIT!!

All of it!!!

ladystarblade was heading to Jeffersonville following the directions and ended up in New Washington. NEW WASHINGTON!!

So, I call Fed Ex to ask them about getting an address changed to her place of business...and no go. I knew that already, but I figured if I bitched enough (and trust me...I turned into the Great Northern Bitch because this is fucking ridiculous!) maybe they would. So...they told me to call again in the morning and they'd give better directions so that whoever came to get the package could find it.

THAT WOULD STILL INVOLVE LEAVING WORK BETWEEN THE HOURS OF 9:00 A.M. AND 3:00 P.M. WHEN WE CAN'T BECAUSE OUR ASSES HAVE TO BE AT WORK!!

Thanks a whole hell of a lot for nothing FED EX!!

They said they can't change the address because that's how theft happens. THEFT HAPPENS WHEN IT'S LEFT ON MY DOORSTEP!! UPS will change the address. Why the fuck won't FED EX??!!

So yeah...now I'm bitchy. And I hate that ladystarblade drove out there for nothing.

SHITFUCKDAMN!

Fed Ex.

Oooooh...how I hate Fed Ex.

Fed Ex delivers while both ladystarblade and I are at work. So, of course, we can't sign for the package. The door tag that is left gives us the option of signing to allow them to leave it at the door. After the package that never got to me from turple_purtle via Fed Ex this holiday season there was no way I was trusting others who dwell in my building to not mess with a package.

So, I called Fed Ex on Monday to see about picking it up. First they couldn't find the Door Tag Number that I gave them. Which I read off twice. They said it was at the Fed Ex building in Jeffersonville and that it couldn't be picked up until Tuesday. Whatever. However, Tuesday I have classes at night that keep me until around 7:30 p.m. So, I called this morning to see if I could pick up the package.

Of course, I don't get to talk to the actual building that has my package. It's the 1-800-GoFedEx number I get. GRRR. I talk to someone from India, I swear to god. Outsource much? Anyway...talking to them and find out where my package is. They tell me that they'll have it there for pick up.

ladystarblade has some time to kill before picking me up at work today. So, she asks me to see if she can pick it up. Well...this involves figuring out the actual phone number for the place since GoFedEx number didn't have it. I got online. Found it. Called.

Spoke to a guy there. He told me that no one is usually there after 3:00 p.m. and that pick-ups are to happen between 9:00 a.m. and 3:00 p.m. How is this conducive to people who work from 7:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m.???? And I made that point. I told the guy that the reason we have to pick up the package is because we are not home when they try to deliver it because we are at work. And now we're expected to be able to get enough time off to go down there and pick it up during the time we work too?? NOT HAPPY!

Then he said he could hang out until 4:30 p.m. but no later (since he was there getting some stuff done anyway) to allow ladystarblade to get down there to get the package. *SIGH!* So...this gives her 30 minutes from the time she gets off work heading into rush hour to go from where she works to Jeffersonville and get in the building with her ID before this guy closes shop at 4:30 p.m.

Right...

Then he asks if I know for sure the package is there. I told him that the 1-800-GoFedEx person told me it was. He started laughing and said he'd check. He asked for any package identification and I told him I had a Door Tag Number that apparently didn't work. He asked for names and address. I gave them. Appparently they do have it. Apparently they will hold it.

And apparently, ladystarblade is going to risk life and limb to get down there and finally get this package, that was sent to us by after_lastnight after the whole Christmas package she sent went missing in USPS!

It's a nightmare!!

AND WHAT KIND OF COMPANY CLOSES DOWN BEFORE PEOPLE GET OUT OF WORK WHEN THE REASON THEY COULDN'T SIGN FOR THE FRICKIN' PACKAGE IN THE FIRST PLACE IS BECAUSE THEY WERE AT...WORK!!??

Seriously! WTF?

It's just pissed me off. And I send ladystarblade good luck vibes...she'll need them.

And God Speed.

Dear Fed Ex:

You Suck.

No love,
Me.

GAH! Computers.

I HATE COMPUTERS!!!

Okay, not really...because I know they've come a long way and without them I wouldn't have the contact I do with people. E-mail, messenger...LJ...you name it...I try to keep in touch.

But...for the SECOND TIME IN A YEAR...my laptop's hard drive has DIED! Yeah, completely stopped functioning. So, it's in the shop right now (and for the next three days) getting a new hard drive installed. You know, luckily my computer was backed up YESTERDAY so I had much of what I needed. But somewhere I lost the frickin' CD for my Paint Shop Pro 5...and that's my program (along with animation shop) that I used to make icons for myself and ladystarblade. Oh...I'm so not happy. Not happy at all.

And...to top that off, ladystarblade's computer has been on the fritz as of late. She managed to get a Trojan Spybot Virus implanted in the source code of the browser and ended up spamming about half the population of the United States. Seriously. And, our server cut us off. I mean, totally just cut our service and waited for me to call and say something. And THEN alerted us of the issue. No call to warn us or anything. Remember, this is an internet service that WE PAY FOR EVERY MONTH! WTF??!! So, I got them to let us back online, and we wiped ladystarblade's laptop. Then reloaded everything. That's when her fun began. Because then her computer started jamming EVERY FEW SECONDS!

WTF??!! Yeah...so computers are evil. And thankfully we may have gotten her problem worked out. *CROSSING FINGERS* But I'm still waiting on mine. And I'm sorry, no laptop should have to have a hard drive replaced twice within the span of a year. And that computer was only purchased back in April 2006...so it's not even 2 years old yet. SO NOT HAPPY!!!

This is probably a post I should have done ages ago. And you know what...I'm not going to lock it or censor it...I'm just going to rant for a bit. Because there has been a lot going on as of late that has been pushing my buttons...and to be honest, I'm tired of being pushed. The only problem is figuring out where to start...

Music.

I love music! I love music so much that I will buy a CD before I worry about the necessities in life, save my rent. I have been a music lover since...before I could walk. My parents always had a record on the turntable, a cassette in the player, a CD spinning, the radio going. There was always music in my life.

I played it. Years of piano lessons, a few of flute, and a couple on hand bells. I had a genuine interest in it. I wanted to understand what it was that people were feeling when they sang a song, or played a tune, or just showed the world their vulnerable side by pouring out every fucking emotion they were feeling when they scribbled a bunch of words down on a piece of notebook paper after a break up or bad day or something that just made them feel. Really feel.

I listened to it. My music collection is extensive. And believe it or not, I always find time to listen to the old stuff. I mean, hell, I still remember the first CD I bought. I still have that CD too. And yes...I still listen to it. Music changes. People's personal tastes change. I like to think that mine just grow. That instead of moving on to something else, I like to add it to my collection. I currently own over 700 CDs, yes...of every genre known to man. When I crack on rap music, it’s because I can. I own some of it. When I pick on country music, I can...I own some of it. When I’m picking on the latest lounge singer...well, then it's Michael Bublé and I have good reason to.

I've become a part of music. Welcome to the wonderful world of fandoms. And this, my friends, is the reason for this post...

I'm warning you now...if you think you'll get offended by what I’m going to say, please, stop reading now. Hit the back button on your page and forget I ever posted this. But if you are curious as to what my take is on the world of music fandoms, please...take a closer look...

( You did it…you made me blog about it )

I'm sure there are more...but, yeah…this has been boiling for awhile now. I guess ever since the Bo Bice show in Indianapolis back in May. Yeah...let's not even get me started on THOSE fans that night...

Time to go before I start up again.

Where was it in the drivers manual that when you are merging onto the highway from an entrance ramp that you must ride the ramp all the way to the end? I don't recall seeing this in the drivers manual, yet I have run across so many people in my years of driving who do this.

Not me. I just merge right on over when I have the space. I see no point to drive all the way down until the line disappears and joins the lane. That's just pointless. I mean, why risk someone thinking that you're pulling over due to car problems? Just frickin' get on the highway and be done with it.

UGH!

Concerts!

They're fabulous, wonderful things! And at each concert I attend, I am sure to buy a concert t-shirt if they are available. That's just something I've done since I started going to live shows.

While some are run better than others...I have never, ever faced anything like I did when I attended the concert of The Police at Churchill Downs on Saturday.

Let me elaborate...

Both ladystarblade and I got to the venue early. We had to pay $30 for parking, but we had a great spot. Easy to find after the show. Upon being let into the show, we headed right toward the merchandise table. YAY...T-shirts!

We're early...so we are right up front. And for a good 5 minutes, we get ignored by those behind the table, who get items for the people around us. Keep in mind, ladystarblade is 5'11" and was wearing a BRIGHT YELLOW shirt! You can't miss her. Finally, the merchandise girl asks me what I want. I order my two t-shirts and pay. I get out of line, thinking that ladystarblade will be right behind me.

Twenty minutes later, she is still standing in that SAME spot at the table. No one has bothered to ask her for what she'd like. After 20 minutes, she gets out of line, and gets to the back of another one. Where she has to stand for about 10 minutes because apparently the merchandise people don't have their act together. FINALLY, she gets her t-shirt.

Fast forward to the concert. Fiction Plane takes the stage. And I'm really digging the sound. So, I decide while they are playing, I'll quickly rush to the merchandise table and get their CD. Well, the only table that carries it is the one we were at initially. And the lines are still long. I get into one and end up standing there for 30 minutes. No movement. People are getting out of line because it seems no one wants to wait on that end of the table. NO ONE!! Finally, a lady complains to the lady in charge of that particular merchandise table and she orders those on the table to move down and start covering everyone. I wanted ONE CD!! That's it. So, I finally get it and head back into the concert...as Fiction Plane finishes their song and plays their final song of the night. So, I missed their entire act because the merchandise people didn't have their act together.

Let's get this straight...if you are working at the merchandise table. PAY ATTENTION!! The merchandise is expensive and the people who are there are willing to shell out the money for it. But if you ignore them, they will get out of line!

I have NEVER, EVER witnessed that sort of complete ignorance when it came to those who are in charge of running the merchandise tables. I mean...this is a HUGE tour! You'd think those who were put into that sort of position would do it a bit more efficiently!

Geeze!

I swear to God I discovered the most pointless use of tax payer dollars yesterday on the drive to Indianapolis. And it all involved the mile markers. We all have traveled by car at some point in our lives and we know that the miles are marked with little green signs declaring 102 or 103 or 104...and so on.

Yet, the good state of Indiana couldn’t leave it at that. Because on Interstate 65 heading North, we have mile markers that read like this:

102.0, 102.5, 103.0, 103.5, 104.0, 104.5...and so on.

Now, the .0 and .5 are squeezed onto this panel that was added to each mile marker. So, as you whiz by going 75 mph, you catch a glimpse of the mile marker and think it is mile 1020 or 1025...

What is the point? I mean, seriously, did we have that much extra money in the Department of Transportation last year that it was decided that putting .0 and .5 mile markers up on the interstate was a good idea? I think I could find a few better uses for that money. It is the most pointless thing. Seriously, why mark a half-mile? That’s why our cars have odometers. Geeze!

Maybe it’s because I’m always broke that I can think of a million different things that the money used to add those to the mile markers could be used for, or perhaps it is just my practical side...but for the life of me I have yet to figure out the exact purpose behind them.

Would love to hear thoughts and opinions.