Well now . . .
Fair warning, you can scroll down to the pictures if you must.
At this point I have to wonder if Mood Fabrics even wants my business, or well anyone's business. Seriously.
Case in point, I have 150 bucks to spend. Twas a birthday present. I intended on depositing the check tomorrow, on the way to campus. Well . . . since I really am on a tight budget I would like to order the material (as A) I know what I want and B) well I'm on a budget). I want to get about 5 yards of silk (two different prints) and four yards of lining. There is enough to get some knit for a top and a sweatshirt. My silk ain't cheap, but let's face it . . . we all must be creative when it comes to laying out pieces on high end fabric.
Yet, whenever I put something in my cart and go to find the lining, a second print, the cost of a fucking needle the contents of my cart disappear. Then, then . . . I say hey, ya know, maybe I'll set up my online account now. Perhaps that is the problem. Does the system let me? Nope. Does it let me log in via the borderline offensive suggestion of Facebook?* Nope.
Granted, I could take a subway hop over there. BUT, like I said . . . I'm on a budget, shipping would be free, and well . . .do I need to say it again? Also, while I enjoy going into Mood sales girls hiding behind pillars with e-cigs annoy me a shade. That is relatively minor, but . . . also trying to sell me a print when I really want a solid, say "I'm not sure" to nearly every question, and say "well, you'll have to look silks are over there (pointing toward shirting, clearly not silks)" are not something I have the patience for right now. Of course, I should note that most of the Mood staff is awesome. You just get a dude on a rare occasion, and with my luck as of late . . . That is probably because it is the month of July.
While my birthday was not a total shit show this year, I will say the rest of the month . . . well last week I had to call Verizon about the install of my second replacement tablet (yes, three tablets . . . getting old, people) and its version of customer service sent me into a black hole. Let's just say that I had to start yelling, "Please stop, please stop talking, stop, stop, STOP." This moron kid tried to tell me he couldn't hear me. Um, the entire fucking building and city block heard me. Why? I had a question that he refused to answer because of the script. He claims he wasn't reading. The question: well, my dears, it would have caused the whole phone call to take a MUCH SHORTER path as it was the thrust of my problem. I will never understand why people think this shit is so funny. He had the balls to laugh at me. The phone call could have been less than twenty minutes if he had bothered to listen. Instead, there was several minutes of him reading, them him saying "I didn't hear," then him repeating everything. Thank you Verizon for sucking my day, again.
Last summer I found out a school I was at didn't take out my union dues. So . . .I paid the damned things with a personal check. Did that on October 16th. Checked my voice mail last week . . . union man wants his money. I call. And . . . when you get shitty with me, take a hostile tone, I will respond in kind. When I ask what school this is for, you refuse to answer, ask what year, you refuse, and then when I ask why I'm being asked to pay dues for a union that doesn't provide me benefits or respond to me requests when I was on that campus and you tell me "that's your opinion" . . . do not be surprised when yelling ensues. When the woman on the end of the phone interprets your response as being chauvinistic, that she yells back...
On that note, I have always supported unions. Always will. But, for this union man who wants to begin a phone call in a hostile manner, be an ass, and accuse me of being anti-union, I have a few words for him. Those words involve dumb, mother fucker, asshat, and go get an education. Nothing civil, nice, or things I should say. Hostile, yes. Don't mess with me on those regards. Furthermore, I am tired of asking that campus to fix the problem, to PLEASE and PLEASE give me the union contact information (the response: "I'm sorry I don't know. Full-time faculty have a different union.") So, I paid the union my dues yet I'm on a do-not-teach list for non-payment. Perhaps I can bribe a friend to call them this week. I, I can not.
Of course, my personal favorite . . . someone I haven't really talked to in years sent a request for one of my old papers. So she could plagiarize. Yup. I redacted the screen shots of the text messages, as I thought that would be a little too bitchy . . .even for me in my current state.
She knows I'm a professor and have a PhD, and I have a bunch of things published under my name. What the hell. I haven't gone out of my way to talk to her in years, nor have we had much contact. I won't again. I friend her daughter on FB not long ago, which is why I think I got this note. Her munchkin isn't a kid anymore, she's eighteen now. Figured it was okay to put her on filtered boundaries.
There was crostini too. My all time favorite food of summer, made with heirloom tomatoes as they have less acid than the regular red ones. My inner Lupus bitch likes that.
The colors of the market are gorgeous right now.
I made a few more things. One, a nifty t-shirt with the renfrew body and the briar sleeves.
A weekender bag as a gift. I finished the hand stitiching, thank you very much.
Salad season. I love to cook, and I love salads. Local and organic just makes everything better.
Clearly what I felt like all week. Oh, look . . . my purple, plaid thurlows.
Sushi from the drugstore is never a good idea. NEVER.
On that note . . . maybe Mood will work now. I might give it one more shot in the morning. But seriously? You think the company would want viewers of Project Runway to be able to shop at will . . . I am NOT one of those folks, but . . . just sayin'.
July is on f-ing notice.
update:
The site worked after three tries this morning. The silk and lining for two dresses (I have thread and buttons) from birthday money, and I paid for jersey knit for two shirts. Yet, I didn't have enough for this Marc Jacobs geometric silk in purple. It would be gorgeous on many things . . . I'll have to wait.
At this point I have to wonder if Mood Fabrics even wants my business, or well anyone's business. Seriously.
Case in point, I have 150 bucks to spend. Twas a birthday present. I intended on depositing the check tomorrow, on the way to campus. Well . . . since I really am on a tight budget I would like to order the material (as A) I know what I want and B) well I'm on a budget). I want to get about 5 yards of silk (two different prints) and four yards of lining. There is enough to get some knit for a top and a sweatshirt. My silk ain't cheap, but let's face it . . . we all must be creative when it comes to laying out pieces on high end fabric.
Yet, whenever I put something in my cart and go to find the lining, a second print, the cost of a fucking needle the contents of my cart disappear. Then, then . . . I say hey, ya know, maybe I'll set up my online account now. Perhaps that is the problem. Does the system let me? Nope. Does it let me log in via the borderline offensive suggestion of Facebook?* Nope.
Granted, I could take a subway hop over there. BUT, like I said . . . I'm on a budget, shipping would be free, and well . . .do I need to say it again? Also, while I enjoy going into Mood sales girls hiding behind pillars with e-cigs annoy me a shade. That is relatively minor, but . . . also trying to sell me a print when I really want a solid, say "I'm not sure" to nearly every question, and say "well, you'll have to look silks are over there (pointing toward shirting, clearly not silks)" are not something I have the patience for right now. Of course, I should note that most of the Mood staff is awesome. You just get a dude on a rare occasion, and with my luck as of late . . . That is probably because it is the month of July.
While my birthday was not a total shit show this year, I will say the rest of the month . . . well last week I had to call Verizon about the install of my second replacement tablet (yes, three tablets . . . getting old, people) and its version of customer service sent me into a black hole. Let's just say that I had to start yelling, "Please stop, please stop talking, stop, stop, STOP." This moron kid tried to tell me he couldn't hear me. Um, the entire fucking building and city block heard me. Why? I had a question that he refused to answer because of the script. He claims he wasn't reading. The question: well, my dears, it would have caused the whole phone call to take a MUCH SHORTER path as it was the thrust of my problem. I will never understand why people think this shit is so funny. He had the balls to laugh at me. The phone call could have been less than twenty minutes if he had bothered to listen. Instead, there was several minutes of him reading, them him saying "I didn't hear," then him repeating everything. Thank you Verizon for sucking my day, again.
Last summer I found out a school I was at didn't take out my union dues. So . . .I paid the damned things with a personal check. Did that on October 16th. Checked my voice mail last week . . . union man wants his money. I call. And . . . when you get shitty with me, take a hostile tone, I will respond in kind. When I ask what school this is for, you refuse to answer, ask what year, you refuse, and then when I ask why I'm being asked to pay dues for a union that doesn't provide me benefits or respond to me requests when I was on that campus and you tell me "that's your opinion" . . . do not be surprised when yelling ensues. When the woman on the end of the phone interprets your response as being chauvinistic, that she yells back...
On that note, I have always supported unions. Always will. But, for this union man who wants to begin a phone call in a hostile manner, be an ass, and accuse me of being anti-union, I have a few words for him. Those words involve dumb, mother fucker, asshat, and go get an education. Nothing civil, nice, or things I should say. Hostile, yes. Don't mess with me on those regards. Furthermore, I am tired of asking that campus to fix the problem, to PLEASE and PLEASE give me the union contact information (the response: "I'm sorry I don't know. Full-time faculty have a different union.") So, I paid the union my dues yet I'm on a do-not-teach list for non-payment. Perhaps I can bribe a friend to call them this week. I, I can not.
Of course, my personal favorite . . . someone I haven't really talked to in years sent a request for one of my old papers. So she could plagiarize. Yup. I redacted the screen shots of the text messages, as I thought that would be a little too bitchy . . .even for me in my current state.
She knows I'm a professor and have a PhD, and I have a bunch of things published under my name. What the hell. I haven't gone out of my way to talk to her in years, nor have we had much contact. I won't again. I friend her daughter on FB not long ago, which is why I think I got this note. Her munchkin isn't a kid anymore, she's eighteen now. Figured it was okay to put her on filtered boundaries.
The friend tried to take the high and injured road, even called me by my first name. Bull.
Then, after this crap someone else sent me texts wanting to know if she was the one I had outed on a FB status. Dude. As I told her, "Considering you didn't text me asking for a paper . . . " What is wrong with people?
On other, less shitty notes. I took another pound of garlic scapes and made pesto. Froze a ton, did so two weeks ago too. Mmmm. Used a bit on a pizza with basil pesto and crack enhanced ricotta. Mmmm, mmm.
There was crostini too. My all time favorite food of summer, made with heirloom tomatoes as they have less acid than the regular red ones. My inner Lupus bitch likes that.
Green Market haul. That's two weeks worth and another four or five days of frozen goods. What? Winter is cheaper on me. Oh, my birthday flowers were still alive on Saturday. ;)
Isn't she the cutest damned thing? What? Judge me later.
I learned that some people need instructions and a kit for a smoothie. I'm confused of how this can even be a product. It's called throw some yogurt, honey, and fruit into a blender. Whirl. Drink. If these kits were for some exotic and hard jumbled concoction then I wouldn't be mocking them, now would I?
The colors of the market are gorgeous right now.
A weekender bag as a gift. I finished the hand stitiching, thank you very much.
Salad season. I love to cook, and I love salads. Local and organic just makes everything better.
Local wine. I drank the bottle. This was post Verizon.
And . . . we went kayaking. From Chelsea Piers, in Manhattan at night. I love this city.
On that note . . . maybe Mood will work now. I might give it one more shot in the morning. But seriously? You think the company would want viewers of Project Runway to be able to shop at will . . . I am NOT one of those folks, but . . . just sayin'.
July is on f-ing notice.
update:
The site worked after three tries this morning. The silk and lining for two dresses (I have thread and buttons) from birthday money, and I paid for jersey knit for two shirts. Yet, I didn't have enough for this Marc Jacobs geometric silk in purple. It would be gorgeous on many things . . . I'll have to wait.
*Why is signing in via FB offensive? I do not need everyone I know seeing everything I stalk, oogle, purchase, or contemplate at Mood. At 2 am, or 2pm, I could very well be in a land of kittens and cupcakes. So, no . . . .momentary bad glimpses do not need to be seen by anyone but me. And yes, there are security settings and there are also moments of error. They both happen.
Comments