I’m on the warpath today, friends. In the last 48 hours I have experienced such frustration with what most us of would consider “advancements” in technology, that I’m ready to throw in the techy towel.
* Captcha. ENOUGH of this shit:
I’m not a robot, I’m just not a human magnifying glass. And is it just me or is this fuzzy? Like so fuzzy that it feels like I’m drunk? I don’t mind a good buzz, but not when I’m trying to leave a snarky and hilarious comment on someone’s post that never shows up because I can’t tell if the friggin’ letter is an L or an I. Bite me, Captcha.
* NuvaRing. As I’ve already discussed why this supposedly fantastic medical advancement is a jerk, I won’t get into it again. Just please note that I have since lost the water weight; however, my Aunt Flo has apparently set up camp for the entire month of February. If March isn’t any different, you will all hear my head explode from your house.
* The liftgate on my car. In my best Chandler Bing voice: “Could you BE any slower?!” I should be grateful that I have a car with such a wonderful feature. But I’m not. I’d rather close that biatch myself than have to wait sixty seconds in the pouring rain making sure that the stroller, groceries, and playground toys don’t get in the way, preventing a proper latching. It also prohibits a good slam, and we all know that shopping with two toddlers sometimes calls for a good slam of the door.
* Pinterest: This one is only partially true: I love it because, much like crystal meth, Pinterest makes me believe I can accomplish the impossible; I hate it because, much like steroids, it leave me in a rage that I can’t do any of the fancy crap it advertises.
* Brazilian Bikini Wax: when Brazil has winters like western PA, we’ll talk about hair removal. Can you get with that, Gisele?
* Comcast’s On-Demand or any other cable company that offers instant access to certain shows. Let me be clear: I love the immediate gratification of clicking two buttons on my remote and turning my living room into a movie theater. It works for me. But for my kids? Absolutely not. There is no way to escape watching the same episode of Caillou 93 times because they know it’s there. I’ve tried pretending the remote control is broken, but they got all 1963 on me and turned on the TV by pressing the button on the TV. Show offs.
* Bluetooth. A safety feature or an attempt to interrupt my car concerts? The second I get into a Mumford and Sons harmony, someone calls and cuts me off. The call actually cuts off the music, not me, which means we’re all left listening to ME in an otherwise silent car. No one appreciates this. No one.
* My Brita Water Pitcher. Cousin of the Liftgate, the Brita Water Pitcher is one slow mofo. It takes forever for the water to filter down into the actual pitcher, and will oftentimes overflow upon first pour. My kid pees more than the reservoir holds, but if you’ve got 20 minutes to waste four times a day, sure, buy a Brita.
* Walmart. The prices can’t be beat, yet small mom and pop shops are closing all over the place because of this monster. The result? I shop there and feel guilty. Like moms need anything else to feel guilty about. Sigh.
Okay, kids, gotta jump in the Liftgate car with Bluetooth enabled and head to Walmart for a replacement Brita filter pitcher. And hate myself.