Horror Film Checklist

Listen. I don't think I'm the only one who is bugged by the chicks and dudes in horror films. The ones that die for no reason except for their own stupidity.

SO, here's a checklist for anyone who's ever screamed at the television during such a film for reasons other than terror - namely anger, frustration, disbelief, and...anger.

1) Don't disregard the warnings of the locals. They live there. If they tell you "we've heard screams in the night from that place...it's not a good place to stay", then don't stay there. Thank them and leave. Go home. It's simple: vacations aren't fun if you're being hacked to death, m'kay?

2) Don't go anywhere where cell phones don't work. I mean, just don't. Especially in the dark. "No service" means no service. By the way, climbing further into the dark and the heights is a bad idea. If you think about doing this, to get better service for your cell phone, remind yourself of two things: it's dark, and it's scary. Go back.

3) Stay together. If someone says "I'm going to go have a look around", slap them upside the head. Usually this happens after someone has already been killed, and you've seen their maimed and/or dismembered body. Stay together.

4) Stay where the lights are. If there are no lights except candles and lanterns, stay where the candles and lanterns are. Don't run outside to get away. They're always waiting outside.

5) Don't go down that dark hallway. Especially if the music changes. If the music becomes intense and scary, shut the door and back away. The hallway is scary. The basement is scary. Don't keep walking. Don't say "hey guys? Is anyone there?" Just don't do it!

6) Kick off the heels, for crying out loud. You can run better without them, and they're not as valuable as your life. If you can use them as a missile against the assailant, that's even better. However, if your aim is bad, just kick them off and run. TOWARD other people. Not away from them. I can't stress this enough.

7) Don't wear frickin' heels on a vacation. Who ARE you??

8) Shoot first, say you're not scared second. Don't take the time to say "I ain't afraid of you" before killing the guy. Doing such a thing would provide him with the time he needs to, say, kill you first. Kill him first, and then dance on his body.

9) Shoot him again. Don't just shoot once, twice, or three times, and then go to roll him over to make sure he is dead. Doing this usually brings about many scenarios, most of which end with him still being alive and either stabbing or shooting you. Greatest advice of all: shoot him multiple times. In the head if you can. In the hands and feet if you're still not sure. And then, don't go over to where he can reach you. Run away.

Plastic Bags Could Still Be Complimentary.

It bugs me that I have to pay for plastic bags in grocery stores. I mean, groceries are expensive. Food is expensive. Where does the food come from? The grocery store. Do they not think I am paying them enough without having to throw in the extra bit for plastic bags?

Their excuse is that it's "saving the environment"...it's not really.

Guess what percent plastic bags make up of the "waste stream".

Less than 0.5%.

I think grocery stores should say "we're milking this environment thing for all it's got, and squeezing just that much more money out of our customers. We like money, people, and getting an extra ten cents per bag, with all the customers going through here...score!"

I'd commend their honesty.

Boys.

I have OCD.

I MUST have a clean house for Christmas. MUST. It can't be dirty.

So.

Today, as I'm obsessively scrubbing down my bathroom, I realize, yet again...

Boys bug me.

Seriously.

They have a HOSE, people. Can they not aim with more precision?!??

Why is it that every time I scrub the toilet/floor around the toilet/walls/baseboard that the wipe comes away yellow? How can this be? They have a HOSE!

Boys are gross.

And that bugs me.

Sarah Bugs Me (not really)

Because she's so cute and cuddly, and because she's mopped all her floors and written this:

Floors are vacuumed and washed, fridge is clean, laundry is done, kitchen cupboards are all washed and sparkly, and all the dishes are washed dried and put away! Phew! Tomorrow, baking, Wednesday, shopping (one LAST time before Christmas!) and Thursday, NOTHING!

She bugs me because she is miles and miles and MILES ahead of me. I still have to wash the kitchen floor and clean out my baking cupboard and do the laundry and wrap the presents and bake and shop and ...

But, she's awfully cute and cuddly. And I guess I'll have to put up with her fantasticisms because I love her and I'm proud of her.

So, she doesn't bug me TOO much.

But please, someone tell me they are still scrambling to get it all done, too!!

(And Sarah, don't worry, I truly think you're wonderful. And cute. And cuddly. And I want to be like you when I grow up.)

Confession

I have a confession to make.

We have a dancing, singing Santa Claus in our house. He is about five feet tall, and he has one of those flapping lips (you know, the kind that makes me want to break glass. Oh, you didn't know? Well, now you do. Isn't it wonderful, learning new things?).

When he sings, he swings his hips side to side and his arms flap back and forth (like he's trying to feel you up - I swear the thing has done it to me before. Do. not. like.).

He has beady eyes and a flat head.

And I want to drop-kick him.

Every time he is set up - that first time I see him, standing all smug in the corner, thinking he's loved by all - I want to drop-kick him right in his sassy face.

I don't like Santa Claus. Mostly because I don't like all the hype and the lies and the blagh* about Santa Claus. That 5' hip-swinging, lip-flapping dummy in the corner represents pretty much everything I dislike about the Christmas season - consumerism, lies, the "reason" for being "good"...one of these days I might not be able to stop myself.

Horrified bystanders will watch with shock as I pwn that sucker.

Merry Christmas.

* in other words, stuff that makes my brain tired, sore, and angry.

Lawyers

If anyone marries, knows or becomes a lawyer disregard my rant because I am not speaking of you. Unless of course you put legal practices before human compassion. Then this is FOR YOU.
I got a curtiasy call from the lawyers office that they need more post dated cheques for 2010. When I hear this, my blood boils. It's like buying a car and then having the car die, and not being able to repair it so the car is shipped off to the wreckers, but MONEY IS OWED on the car.
This is how I feel when I write cheques and send the money off. I am paying for nothing. I am paying because I put my trust in something that wasn't God. I am paying because I wanted to win, but instead I have 5 or 6 more years of paying this bill because I can't afford to pay it off faster. This lawyer did nothing for me. In fact, because of this lawyer Trenton was exposed to another life and just as he was getting used to the idea the life was snatched away. I'm not saying that isn't good, I'm saying that this lawyer didn't do it. My husband and I did this. Prayers from my family did this. Years of stress and tears is my investment. Lawyers do nothing except go through the motions. Literaly. Paying for nothing bugs me.

Parking

Maybe it's the fact that it's winter now, which seems to make most Canadians apply the "stupid-head" side of their brain while behind the wheel. (Another post entirely.)

Maybe it's the fact that most people are generally narcissistic and ego-centric.

Maybe it was entirely innocent. (As in my case, which follows.) Maybe they had a valid reason.

Whatever the reason, someone in town today parked in two parking places. The back end of his car was in one space, and the front end was in another.

This drives me crazy for many reasons.

!) There are white lines to designate where your vehicle should park. White lines. They TELL YOU. These lines were not covered with snow; you can see them quite clearly.

@) A lot of people actually park properly, which means there are EXAMPLES right in front of your face. "See? This is how you should park."

#) I'm pretty sure most driving instructors tell you the obvious. "Yea, park between the lines."

$) SOME vehicles cannot fit within the white lines marking a single space. That's okay. It's not their fault they're big. They were made that way. Don't make fun of them!

But MOST vehicles can fit just fine.

But the biggest reason it bugs me:

^) When I park behind these badly-parked people, I'm in two spaces too. And then guess what happens?

The original guy drives away.

And THEN guess what happens?

I look like the idiot.

Legal Mumbo-Jumbo.

It bugs me.

I drove innocently down my road one night in February almost three years ago. Some old guy, not paying attention, turned right onto the road on which I was travelling. Instead of turning into his own lane, he turned into MY lane and hit me, head on.

It messed up my life.

Sleepless nights. Lots of pain. Ongoing pain in the neck, literally. Grouchiness, from the pain. Feeling like a failure, because I couldn't do my ordinary work.

What bugs me is that after waiting nearly two years to see if the pain would go away, then finally coming to the decision that no, it wasn't going away, and was something I would have to deal with for the rest of my life, so yes, I would see a lawyer...what bugs me the most is that they don't get it. It's all about loss of income from my JOB. But there's no thought of compensation for the way the accident messed up my LIFE.

I am more than my temporary, part-time, two-year job.

I am a stay-at-home, homeschooling mom. That has been my life since my firstborn entered the world in 1975. OVER THIRTY YEARS, people. And that is what is important to me. And that is what has been messed up, big time.

I think I need to contact the Human Rights Commission. Don't I have the right to value my life at home? After all, it's been my life's work. And the fact that it has been messed up to the point where I haven't done a good job of teaching my kids or maintaining my home since the accident should matter.

It matters to ME.

Rawr!!

You know what bugs me??

When I do dishes for .. lets say, three hours. Everything is clean. Sparkling, even.

And then.

I make supper. We eat, and rush out the door.

The next day, I wake up to a messy kitchen. But wait! I can't clean it, since we're heading out the door yet again. And even though I know it needs to be cleaned... the baby needs to be fed, kids bathed/brushed/dressed, because we're leaving again. So, I rush out the door and tell myself I'll get to it later.

After about the fourth meal, I don't have a clean pot left, and the kitchen is a disaster again. *Sigh*

And the worst part is?

I wasn't even home to enjoy it when it was clean.

I hate weeks like that.

As a Follow-Up to My Previous Post About H1N1...

As it still bugs me that the whole world is panicked about this turns-out-it-wasn't-that-bad-at-all-I-mean-it-was-nowhere-near-the-pandemic-level virus, I notice blogs and comments that mention H1N1.

"One thing that amazes me is the discrepancy between the news headlines and the real world. So often the headlines warn of doom and gloom that fails to materialize or their slant is overwhelmingly negative when there are many reasons for encouragement. This was evident during the recent financial crisis that we have come through, and I suspect it will be the story after the hype surrounding H1N1 has settled down. Unfortunately the long term impact of "crying wolf" too many times is that people are increasingly reluctant to believe the "experts" in the future."

I don't know if these experts realize that they're digging holes for themselves.

This post has a pretty good conclusion, I must say.

U bugs me

Not that I mind the letter "u". But when it is missing on overhead projections of songs for singing in church, it bugs me.

Today, the song had the word "Saviour", spelled correctly. Then it had "honor", spelled incorrectly... IN THE SAME SONG.

I have to say that it bugs me every single time I see a missing "u" in Canada. We have the traditional British spelling of words like favour and honour and valour.

If I were in the United States, I'd have to let it go.

But in Canada, it's just plain wrong.

Speaking of Take-out Coffee.....

On the coffee cup, for the benefit of the stupids, popular coffee joints print

Caution "Hot"

on the side.

Why the quotation marks? Is the cup lying? Does it just want you to think it's hot, when really it's not?
Do they think that quotation marks are for emphasis?
Don't they know that bold is for emphasis? Or CAPITALS? Or numerous question marks??? Or many, many exclamation points!!! OR ALL OF THEM IN COMBINATION???!!!!

Don't get me started on WHY in the WORLD coffee cups need to have a warning label on them, informing customers that the hot coffee they are buying is, in fact, hot.

A'DUH! A'DUH!!

It irritates me every time. I should stop buying take-out coffee.

Take-out Coffee

When they put the lid on so that the seam of the coffee cup is coming up where you open the tabby thingy and put your lips. HATE THAT!!

I have to fix it so that the seam is exactly opposite the opening.

Multiple musical noises

Yep. You read that right.

I can NOT handle music coming from more than one thing.

For instance... it drives me insane to have the radio and the t.v. playing at the same time.

Can't handle it.

Today, I had the radio on (quietly), Justin was playing the piano (something Christmas-y), and Hannah was banging on a musical toy.

All of the sudden, I realized that I wanted to kill someone.

And that's not a good thing... no, really. ;)

So, I shut off the radio. And dealt with the piano and classical music coming from the toy.

(Even though I really wanted to smash it, I sucked it up so my baby could continue enjoying the lights and music.)

Visual Test: Do YOU Have OCD?

If this bugs you too, chances are....

My own blog title bugs me.

My blog is called "Sarah Say's". It bugs me. Because to outsiders, who do not know that my nickname is Sarah Say, I am just a moron who uses bad grammar. To them, my blog is "Sarah Says" like "Simon Says". So they laugh at my apostrophe.

It's starting to bug me enough that I'm considering renaming the blog. However, that would take effort, and I might just be too lazy. So it will continue to bug me, probably until the end of time.

My Children Bug me.

When they don't post about terrible service in Government offices. I have been checking, and I see nothing.

Nothing!!

And that bugs me.

Make Up Your Mind!!

What really bugged me this morning was reading an article in a magazine (which I usually love) about the H1N1 vaccine. I'll quote the part I was reading:

"Canada's reaction to the H1N1 flu threat has been a remarkable success so far...."

"...the federal government has acquired 50 million doses of vaccine, sufficient for all Canadians who request it..."

Now, the funny part of this is, at the same time as reading those words in that article, I was listening to the local news, where they were basically reporting a vaccine shortage. People are lining up and there are not enough doses to go around; so they're asking pregnant women and children to go first.

So, which is it? Are there enough doses, or are there not?

More:

"...approximately 80 per cent of respondents said they'd been kept well informed about the flu by public health officials and an equal number felt the authorities were taking appropriate precautions. On the other hand, only 36 per cent of respondents considered themselves "very likely" to get the vaccine..."

"....Any amount of government preparation will be for naught if citizens refuse to co-operate because of superstition or ignorance..."

Okay...so...we've been well informed, but if we decide not to get the shot, we're ignorant of the facts? I thought we were well informed?

80% were well informed, weren't they? Or did I misread that? How can 80% be well informed, but 63% be ignorant? These percentages don't add together very well.

"We would encourage everyone to get informed and think carefully..."

Wow, really?

Can't BELIEVE this hasn't been covered yet.

Letter to owners of Public Washrooms

Dear Sir

In the interest of public safety and sanity, I humbly offer these suggestions on improving your germ infested, disgusting, nasty, dens of iniquity.

First question. Why do you insist upon transparent toilet paper? Is this the newest craze? "Look Mom, my fingers see my bum!" Awesome. Do you not think that people, other than myself, will just keep swooshing that roll till they get a decent amount to keep different body parts that shouldn't be together apart? It's quite wasteful.

Second question involves the placement of the garbage. If it's across the room from the door, how will I get the paper in after I use it to open the door? You don't seriously expect me to use my HANDS, do you?! This problem would be alleviated if the door was a PUSH out, instead of a pull.

Which brings me to my third question. Why do some of you just have "hand dryers" and not offer any alternative, like paper towel? Combine this with a PULL out, and I am stuck in the den, not able to get out until some unsuspecting person comes in, tripping over my foot as I jam it in the door so I can escape. It's a safety issue that requires immediate attention.

Thank goodness you had the forethought to install the flush handle at proper foot hight. I was putting my hip out trying to flush the old, high back models.

Hope you find these tips helpful.

Signed,

Absolutely Normal Person

Road Rage Part Duh.

I'm waiting for it to happen. The first snowfall of the year is usually when it occurs. It's coming; I know it.

Some idiot will drive along at 4o kms. and hour, with their HAZARD LIGHTS ON!!

Am I the only one who remembers from the drivers training manual that hazard lights are for stopped vehicles? Why drive with them on?!?

'Cause it's so easy to be the car behind, trying to focus on the road, with these obnoxious red lights blinking in your eyes, so that your pupils have no time to adjust. Lovely.

On another note, to the Ford van earlier today: Go ahead, don't signal. Keep me in suspense. It's okay, I like waiting, and guessing which way you're going to go. It's like a game!! Left, no right! No wait, it's STRAIGHT!! 2 points!

Point #3 If you want to drive the speed limit, that's okay. I respect that. Obeying the law, and such. But, to those that drive 5 or 7, or 3 under, you incite my rage. I can't help it. I shake my fist at you as I go flying past. And think nasty thoughts.

Who gave you people a license? MTO needs to clean house.

Used Q-tips that are LEFT AROUND.

That is all.

Peanut butter

Peanut, peanut butter. Jelly. Peanut, peanut butter. Jelly. Sharon, Lois and Bram used to sing

about it.

What bugs me about peanut butter isn't the taste, or the song, or the fact that I buy jars and jars of all-natural peanut butter every week. What bugs me is that no one in my family can lick the peanut butter off of the knife.

This means I end up with dozens of knives smeared with peanut butter. Even after going through the dishwasher, knives are left with evidence that someone had a peanut butter rice cake, and didn't clean up the knife.

I hate that! It bugs me. Harrumph.

Open

You know, I like a clean kitchen. I'll even take a tidy one as long as everything is neatly in it's perspective spots, or piles. One thing I can't stand is open cupboard doors. Doors that are meant to shut away the contents inside, giving the illusion that everything is perfect. When cupboard doors are shut my world is at peace.

Then God created children.

Children who get dishes out or put them in and ALWAYS leave the door open. Always. My blood is coagulating on the top of my brain as I write this. My eyes are going to fry inside my skull. It doesn't matter how many times I gently say, "Shut the cupboard doors." Or *slam* them as I walk by to frighten any unsuspecting person in the vicinity. Everyday, a top or bottom one is left open more than once.

Sometimes it's door wars, where I've just shut the door, turn around, turn back, and it's open again! This happens quite often as well. The problem doesn't stop there. I can't help shutting OTHER peoples cupboard doors. Not just family either! I've shut many a door in a home I was invited to for a party or a bible study, and have been caught in the act a few times too. When the quizzing stare makes me blush, I simply say,

"It bugs me."

It's Not Even Safe. For Multiple Reasons.

Speaking of driving issues:

One of the biggest pet peeves of mine is when people follow too closely behind me.

I always start to wonder why, when there are miles and miles of road, some person has to edge right up to my bumper and stay there? Whether I speed up or slow down is beside the point. They're not there to pass; it makes me think maybe they believe that the closer you are to the car in front of you, the less gas you'll use up. They certainly seem to be grasping that idea with white-knuckled, talon-like fingers.

Here's the thing: if you think I'm driving too slow (which, I don't), pass me. Don't just stick there behind me. I'm saying this for my safety and your own.

It's dangerous! Think about what could happen if a little kitten were to crawl mewling onto the road, and I, being the softhearted person I am, slammed on my brakes? What would happen to us - you, me, the kitten - ? We'd all be hurt in one way or another. The kitten at the least would have painful memories that it was all his fault.

Do you really want to put that kind of mental stress on a kitten? What kind of monster are you?

Dumb Drivers

I can't stand it when I'm cruising along a great big stretch of country road, minding my own business, and someone pulls out in front of me and cuts me off.

More than 90% of the time, I am the ONLY car on the road. They didn't have to cut me off in order to make their turn within a decent time period, they just couldn't wait the two and a half seconds it would have taken for me to get by them.

Why do stupid people have this seemingly irresistible compulsion to cut the other car off just so they can be first in line? It's not like they're going to get a prize! As if some race car fairy will *POOF* out of the sky, and give them a shiny gold metal because they beat that other car into town by .0001 seconds! Yay!

Gotta be Firsters aren't as bad as the GBF's who Then Turn Off. You know, the drivers that cut you off, drive about 200 metres, then slow down to a crawl and turn either right or left.
They HAD to turn in front of you, causing you to slam on your brakes and pee a little, just to turn again twenty seconds later.

I don't flip the bird often, because it's rude and my Mommy told me not to, but if I ever do it, it's because of THOSE GUYS!!!! I hate them! Seriously, hatred. It's black and tastes kinda coppery in my mouth.

I have lots more to share about dumb drivers, but I think this will suffice for now.

It's really hard to narrow it down....

... because SO MANY things bug me!

I hate lyrics that are grammatically challenged. It ruins otherwise perfectly good songs for me.

Such as Deborah Cox's popular song, "Beautiful You Are".

"Don't ever let nobody bring you down Girl, Don't ever let nobody tear your world apart, Look in the mirror and see who you are, how Beautiful you are!"

I want to take a magical red pen and mark the whole freaking song up.

"Do not ever let anyone bring you down, Girl. Do not ever let anyone tear your world apart. Look in the mirror and see your reflection, you are beautiful."

I just can't listen to it anymore. It has a great beat, Deborah Cox has a lovely voice, but the lyrics drive me crazy. It's not good to be borderline spastic when you're behind the wheel of a tonne of steel hurtling down the highway at 100 kilometers per hour.

Serenity is indicative of good mental focus.

Artists of the world, hear me! DO NOT keep producing songs that have garbage grammar. Please! You are driving me crazy.

Shopping Bugs Me!

I go shopping on a regular basis. This is dictated to me by a chorus of hungry voices clamouring, "What's to eat?" Because literally half of the people with whiny, hungry voices are TALLER than me (no, wait...sigh...only one of them is shorter now), I am compelled to head out of the confines of my warm and cozy house, to go grocery shopping.

It's not the picking veggies and fruit that I dread. It's not the comparison shopping, the getting of the best deal, the piling high of the grocery cart (or carts!)... it's the checkout.

I hate checking out.

It bugs me that even though I obviously have twice as many groceries as the next guy, they rush me through in record time, pushing the button on the conveyor belt so that the groceries hit me and get in my space as I'm trying to put noodles with noodles and meat with meat.

It's the OCD.

I have to pack it a certain way. If I don't, it drives me crazy.

And the checkout girl does all that she can to thwart me in my objectives.

So, I hate shopping.

It's "etc", not "ect".

See title.

But more elaborately, "etc" is a short-form of "et cetera" which is Latin. It means "and the rest", "and so on", "and so forth"...etc.

Latin was the official language of the Romans. Have you ever heard of them? They were a small nation that conquered a small part of the world...no biggie, really*.

Still, the English language has adopted some of their Latin phrases. Et cetera is one of those.

I think it would be a lot more difficult to say "ec tetera". Besides, I don't know what that would mean. For all I know it could mean something about nose hairs. (Actually, I'm almost positive it's not even in the language. Five approving claps for anyone who proves me wrong.)

I like this movie.

*That's not really true. It was a biggie. One of the biggest biggies in the history of the world.

I've Wanted To Mention This For Quite Some Time.

I was once more reminded of a particular pet peeve today as I was listening to the radio.

Imagine the scenario:

A tired, young, gorgeous, witty, and extremely talented woman is driving home. She thinks the weather outside is tolerable, but not exactly "nice" - cloudy, with that rain that isn't quite rain. She turns the radio on to overpower the sound of the incredibly loud Ford van engine. And it hits.

BAM, right in the eardrums.

Nasal singing, with words left unfinished.

You know, it sits there and niggles at me from the moment I hear it.

If you're going to work hard enough to have a song that gets played on the radio, why can't you take the time to complete your sentences instead of letting them trail off in some sort of whining mumble-breath? I mean, seriously? Are you serious?