fergie's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- WTFWFD: barking dogs WTFWFD I haven't gotten a good night's sleep in almost eight months because of my neighbor's dogs barking. They put the dogs out and let them bark for hours, usually between 10 p.m. and 3:30 a.m., but sometimes at 5:00 a.m. or even times in the afternoon or early evening just to keep me on my toes. I can�t say I�m a big fan of loud dogs, and as you go on in your diary entry the option of giving them a laxative does have an appeal. However, this could potentially put the health of the dogs at risk, and is unfair. While the dogs may be doing the barking, it is clearly a result of their owner�s neglect. To me, the last place I want to leave a pet unattended is outside my home. Let puppy sleep inside. 8:48 p.m. - Aug. 26, 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- office hours Office hours: "During the week proceeding the 3rd Saturday of the month, the office will be closed on Monday, and open Tuesday and Friday from 7.30-5.30, Wednesday from 8.30-5.30, and Saturday 8-12. The office will be open all other weeks on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday from 8-5, and Wednesday from 9-5." 8:48 p.m. - Aug. 23, 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- some people... The world is full of ticking time bombs, Sometimes I wonder if I�m getting sick of L.A. or if I�m just getting sick of myself. Earlier this year, I got into an argument with an evil troll in the parking lot of the market down the street. Since my archive was eaten by d-land I can�t find it at the moment to link to. Short version: my cart moved after I parked it and tapped the bumper of her big rusted truck. she jumped out, screaming, and we got into a shouting match, in which I called her nasty names until she got back into her truck. While I was quick to recognize my own involvement in the incident - it was my fault the cart rolled into her truck (sort of) - she didn�t have to react the way she did. There was no harm done but for some reason she had to be a stupid cow about the whole thing. At the time, I began to think about the way people interact with each other here, especially on the road, but even in personal interactions. These are not the laid back California hippies I�d heard about before I moved here. Recently at a drive-thru, the woman in front of me refused to move out of the way when they asked her to pull over to complete her order. She pulled up just enough so I could get my food, but wouldn�t allow me out of the driveway. When I got out of the car and asked her to move, she said she couldn�t. Giving her a look of mock disbelief, I dismissed her with the ever ready �whatever� and got back in my car. Then she started in on how she would move her car whenever she wanted to, how no one was going to tell her to move, called me a fag, a pervert, and told me to fuck myself. Instead of hitting the gas and ramming her from behind and pushing her out into the street in front of a bus, I sat calmly in my car while one of the employees brought her food out, waited for her to inspect it, and then watched her drive off. As she pulled out of the driveway, she looked at me in the rear view mirror with a sense of satisfaction. So, since I was behind her anyway, I followed her. It started out innocently enough when she turned down the same street I turn on to get home. It illustrated the fact that we probably live close to one another, and while she was being a cunt face bitch she forgot that she still had to get home with me behind her, that I may live in the same neighborhood she does. When she was about to turn in the opposite direction of where I live, something came over me and I continued to follow her. After another few turns, she realized I was still behind her and started driving faster, taking several pointless turns trying to loose me. Whatever had come over me was completely in control, and you can believe your ass I busted my little ford around every turn to keep up with her, all while eating my double cheeseburger. The chase started to get a little out of control for the residential area we were in, and I could tell she was freaking out. Finally, she stopped in the middle of the street to ask someone on the sidewalk for help. I pulled around her car on the wrong side, cutting her off from the man she was crying for help to, coming about an inch away from hitting her, and gave her the bird. I was dangerously close and pissed, so I�m glad I didn�t hit anything. I�m not the best driver, but my skills improve when I�m angry. Thinking back to the driveway, I knew how the incident was going to play out from the beginning. She was a crabby fat bitch who needed food and was confrontational. I could have calmly sat in my car, making a mental note as to how some people have no consideration for others and take out their rage on the world. I could have felt sad for her and her pathetic existence. Instead, something made me want to show her the error of her ways. It wouldn�t have mattered who I was or what I had done, any interaction what that woman was going to end up the same way, in a confrontation. She was looking for it, waiting for it to happen, and then when some crazy fag started to chase her down she got scared. Well, that makes me feel better. What, if anything, do I think she learned from this? Gay men will chase you? Will she no longer block people with her car in the future, or will she instead put the entire situation on me for being an impatient jerk? If someone is so inconsiderate as to block the exit of a driveway and say that they cannot move, why in the world would I be led to believe she would take accountability for her actions if I put fear into her? Beyond my reaction, which is scary enough in itself, why do I think it�s up to me to fix these people? What gave me the authority to set this woman straight about her driving etiquette? Knowing full well nothing good was going to come of the situation, why did I feel the need to pursue it? Because I was right. Perhaps right, but not better. So then, maybe I�ve learned something. Just because someone wants to pick a fight doesn�t mean it has to become my issue. It�s hard when faced with a confrontation, because I always want to stand up for myself aggressively. And maybe that�s part of the problem. Maybe I�m just as ready to rumble as bitches that are starting shit with me in the first place. It's not that they think they can mess with me, it's that they are against everyone that comes into their path. I just have no problem getting into it with a woman. I belive in equal rights. Somewhere between being a pushover and being an aggressive jerk there must lie a balance. It is this search that drives me to question my actions and change myself for the better. It�s a good start. I can�t say the same for the rest of the world. And why would I want to? It�s not up to me to live anyone else�s life for them. I�ve always been about the right to be yourself. Some people are just assholes. 10:10 p.m. - Aug. 21, 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||