sff_corgi_lj (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sff_corgi_lj) wrote2003-09-06 01:54 am
sff_corgi_lj) wrote2003-09-06 01:54 am
GRRRRRRRRRR
.
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms;
Then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lin'd,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose, well sav'd a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion;
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing.
So just before I leave work, I get this call from my mother (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
amaterasu, you listenin'?) with the radio blaring LOUDLY in the immediate background. The stereo defaults to the tuner when power hiccups, and in that the aux setting needs a much higher volume than other audio modes, if the radio comes on suddenly, it's LOUUUUD.
She's screaming into the phone about how LOUD it is, and she can't stand it, so I try to tell her where the power and volume are on the stereo. 'I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!'
Mind you, she's standing right in front of the speaker. She's got a cordless phone, and she doesn't go into her bedroom, where she can close two doors between her (and the dogs) and the noise, she's standing in front of the speaker.
'I'M GOING TO SMASH EVERYTHING IN, I CAN'T STAND IT!'
'Ma, just turn the volume down!'
'I CAN'T HEAR YOU! I'M GOING TO PULL OUT EVERY PLUG I CAN FIND!'
I gave up and hung up. She couldn't hear my threats about if I found my PCs wrecked. It takes me about a half-hour-ish to get home -- the Vibe makes it effortless to drive around 80mph/135kph. Since the turnpike is a 70mph speed limit, I wasn't being that illegal.
She called four times before I got home. Each time standing in the living room, in front of the speaker (only one is working correctly right now) blasting away. 'You'd better get home soon!'
No, Ma. I'm sitting in the parking lot at work because I luuuuurrrve to listen to you scream over my mobile.
I didn't answer the last call.
Wanna know what she unplugged? She yanked the power on the two power strips for the big TV and my multitudinous VCRs. She had thrown two sleeping bags OVER the VCRs (knocking a large number of VHS tapes and some DVDs all over the place) because everybody knows VCRs make noise like a radio.
She never touched the speaker. It was right next to the VCRs.
Hear that thumping noise? That's me, pounding my head against a nice, solid wall.
It's really almost funny, if it weren't for all the picking-up I have to do now.
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms;
Then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lin'd,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose, well sav'd a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion;
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing.
So just before I leave work, I get this call from my mother (
amaterasu, you listenin'?) with the radio blaring LOUDLY in the immediate background. The stereo defaults to the tuner when power hiccups, and in that the aux setting needs a much higher volume than other audio modes, if the radio comes on suddenly, it's LOUUUUD.She's screaming into the phone about how LOUD it is, and she can't stand it, so I try to tell her where the power and volume are on the stereo. 'I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!'
Mind you, she's standing right in front of the speaker. She's got a cordless phone, and she doesn't go into her bedroom, where she can close two doors between her (and the dogs) and the noise, she's standing in front of the speaker.
'I'M GOING TO SMASH EVERYTHING IN, I CAN'T STAND IT!'
'Ma, just turn the volume down!'
'I CAN'T HEAR YOU! I'M GOING TO PULL OUT EVERY PLUG I CAN FIND!'
I gave up and hung up. She couldn't hear my threats about if I found my PCs wrecked. It takes me about a half-hour-ish to get home -- the Vibe makes it effortless to drive around 80mph/135kph. Since the turnpike is a 70mph speed limit, I wasn't being that illegal.
She called four times before I got home. Each time standing in the living room, in front of the speaker (only one is working correctly right now) blasting away. 'You'd better get home soon!'
No, Ma. I'm sitting in the parking lot at work because I luuuuurrrve to listen to you scream over my mobile.
I didn't answer the last call.
Wanna know what she unplugged? She yanked the power on the two power strips for the big TV and my multitudinous VCRs. She had thrown two sleeping bags OVER the VCRs (knocking a large number of VHS tapes and some DVDs all over the place) because everybody knows VCRs make noise like a radio.
She never touched the speaker. It was right next to the VCRs.
Hear that thumping noise? That's me, pounding my head against a nice, solid wall.
It's really almost funny, if it weren't for all the picking-up I have to do now.
no subject
At least it's mostly cleanup and reset. Could have been worse. In my house things get mysteriously and randomly thrown away when they get too irritating.
no subject
Put her in a home. Now.
no subject
no subject
Okay... now I don't feel so bad about my own mother's nag-o-meter...
no subject
OY VEY!
That sounds frighteningly like something my mother would do. As someone with similar bruises on her forehead, you have my utmost sympathy.
(...although it's really funny when you're not the one doing all the picking up...)
no subject
Arg. And then after all that, I slept lousy... once my Netscape download LET me leave the PC. [/blear]