Because I'm in a frustrated mood

Dana Wakiji: the most painful sports blogger I've ever read, plastered all over the front page of detnews.com. If following a sports blogger while you watch a game is like having friends sit next to you on the couch, her blog is the one friend who doesn't really follow sports and talks too much while trying too hard to fit in.

It takes newspapers four more years than it should have to have some staff members writing live news and analysis... it'll take another four years for them to figure out that they should find people who can write insightful commentary extemporaneously.


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For some reason, I've been struck with a series of horrible customer service experiences, culminating today wtih being laughed at on the phone by a local real estate agent, who I've subsequently slammed on a real estate agent rating web site. Customer service in Philly is rarely adequate; it's either exceptional or horrendous... more the latter, unfortunately. I've had the usual horrible moviegoing experience (come for the popcorn, stay for the two-and-a-half hour commentary track by the people next to you), some really bad restaurant service, and the most hilarious experience at a large concert venue not to be named ever.*

I like it when the bigger problems in my life involve having the wrong food brought to me, so I have that going for me, which is nice.

I mean, I have two months to find an apartment in center city that's fairly large, not too expensive and accomodates a large dog, which means a yard would be nice, and of course not a high-rise. That's a problem, you could say. I view it as a challenge, because I am foolhardy. Problems, I think, have their genesis in reaction to circumstances; they happen to you. Challenges are created by initiative; you undertake them. Lots of times, the two merge in an indistinguishable goo of difficulty. There's no doubt the apartment search will be just that.

Accomplishing a tricky objective, like putting together a piece of furniture, isn't all that frustrating. For one thing, you approach it as a tricky objective. You're ready for it. You know it will suck. It's the simply objectives that become unnecessarily tricky - through bad luck or the bad nature of other people - that you absolutely cannot stand. They are the root of real frustration. It's not putting together the furniture that's the hard part; it's getting the damned screws to turn right so that the legs are all straight.




*Short version: I'm going to see an arena concert at an arena venue. My girlfriend has a backpack with her, and we're not sure whether we're allowed in with it, or if we should leave it at my office. The venue has no "customer relations" number, so I call the box office. Employee doesn't know if backpacks are allowed. Nor does she know who to ask that would know. Nor is there anyone, in the box office, who would know. Nor is there another number I can call. Prudently, we leave backpack at office. Walking in to the concert, there is a sign on every entrance door stating prominently, in all capital letters, that backpacks (specifically) are prohibited. The obvious conclusion is that the box office employee in question is unable to read.