Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Open Letter to More People Who Need to Fuck Off

I can smell the lemon-scented floor cleaning reek from my home office, aka the room farthest from the front door. That is reektastic. 

From the comments last time, Marsha has a beef with:
all those high-end yarn companies that sell balls/skeins of yarn with knots in them. (Yeah, I'm looking at you, Noro and Rowan.) You guys should know better.

to which I say Amen. If my KnitPicks yarn can come without knots, then why can't the expensive stuff?

Punks.

And Betts has a bone to pick with the cable companies:
To cable companies that tease you with channels and then take them away, and lie to you about extra equipment you need for a "low" monthly charge, I'm not falling for it. I'm sticking with my basic cable.

Yeah, that free crack is a bitch. Dexter is just as good on Netflix DVDs as on the premium cable. Tempt me not with your small fees that add up like all the calories in a Pepperidge Farm cookie assortment (no one can eat just 3).

To my knees:
I'm giving you anti-inflammatories. I'm putting ice on you. I'm spending 3 hours, 3 days a week taking you to physical therapy. Get the fuck better already. I'm not asking for 100% and I admit that I may have been excessively hopeful when I thought that physical therapy could fix some of the damage from that car accident when I was 12. (Apparently, my kneecaps haven't been moving properly for 25 years--it's a notch and groove thing. The notch, it was not in the groove.)

But knees, that excruciating pain in my left kneecap as I descended the stairs into the subway on Monday to take you to physical therapy? Not cool. What is your problem, Left Knee? Were you jealous that the physical therapist worked on my right knee for a few visits? Did you think that he might go back to the right knee if you weren't causing me agony? Well, grow the hell up, Left Knee, because my health insurance isn't going to pay for physical therapy forever and I want some improvement in exchange for my time.

Plus? If I don't regain my ability to exercise, then NONE of my clothes will fit except for my 4 skirts with elastic waistbands. Winter is coming, knees. If I can only wear skirts, you will be cold. 

To the fall I took a few months ago re-injuring my knees:
WTF? I didn't trip. I didn't get dizzy. I was wearing Birkenstocks, for criminy's sake. One second I'm walking and the next, my knees are smashing into the pavement.

I'm well aware of my clumsiness. I don't ski, skateboard, rollerblade, or similar. But walking across the street? From a work meeting? That's what it takes for me to be visited by an injury? Uncool. Feh, to you, sir.

To the fine people at New Balance:
So my physical therapist tells me that if I get myself a pair of your sneakers with rollbar technology, my ankles won't roll outward as they are wont to do. The ankle rolling has been irritating the knees (seriously? I hurt my knee walking across a room the other day. AT the physical therapsts, no less.) So this nifty rollbar technology may be the key to my recovery. Fabulous. Great. I've been wearing your sneakers for years, so rock on.

Um, no. Every pair with rollbars, including the pair I ordered are, not to put too fine a point on it, excruciatingly ugly. These are the shoes that 90 year olds wear around the nursing home. The picture online isn't too bad, but believe me, they're worse in person.

They're so bad that I had no problem leaving the store without making a purchase. I had been planning on trying them on in the store and buying them online with the email coupon I had, but day-m, these things were so ugly that the sales guy knew I was suffering an existential crisis brought on by the ugliness of these shoes.

I decided to order the black ones since they looked like ugly black shoes. The white ones screamed Medicare Part B.

You couldn't make them just an eensy bit less hideous, fine people of New Balance? Or a I seeing the less hideous version? Are there even uglier prototypes somewhere back at the lab? I shudder to think of it.

And now a word to people who don't need to fuck off:

To the kids in the knitting class in the Bronx I volunteered at yesterday:
Wow, you guys are awesome and adorable and stuff. I'd been kicking myself for taking time away from the writing to do this, but I had so much fun, I think I'll be going back. You slew me with cuteness.

Anyone else? Whaddya got?

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