Policy violated: Respect Issues

So checked my mail today, yay I got mail! Excitedly I torn open the letter - Notification of Conduct Meeting, in bold and underlined. Fuck you have got to be kidding me. No, they are not kidding. The next line reads Policy Violation: Respect Issues. So great America thinks I have respect issues. Well certainly the last small piece of respect I did have for America has just become nonexistent. So it goes on to say there will be a hearing etc etc. I hate this hall of residence, words fail to articulate it, actually no amount of physical violence would even come to close to the loathing that exists in my person with regard to this circus of B rated fullhouse characters. 

They have signs informing you of all the rules pasted on the walls, every metre there is one insulting my autonomy. They look like they have been constructed by five years on date-rape drugs. So I guess what everyone wants to know is what did I do? 

Well to be honest I am not entirely sure. It could be the expression of open frustration at the resident  dim witt (also known as RAs - Resident Advisor, whose advisor skills are at a level that would rival a baby chimpanzee). He tried to help me lower my bed, a bed that would of posed a challenge to many a skilled high jumper. It resulted in him sniveling "my hands are really hurting, do you  have any strong friends?" and then stating the obvious "arh this is not working" all of this was in a baby tone accompanied by a wobbling bottom lip and overtly pathetic attempts at "helping" me. I tolerated this infantile behaviour for ten or so minutes then curtly turned to him, after he suggested I just sleep on the floor till the morning, and said I will go and search out someone myself. I also made it known that I was less than impressed with their lack of service and suggested they get a maintenance man - this could have been, to an American ear, construed as snide. Or perhaps it could of been when this muppet returned two seconds later to which he got another curt retort of "don't worry I have dealt with it myself" as i attempted to slam the door he said "no that is not it, do you have a candle burning in your room?". This was the straw that broke the camels back, the idiot was just in my room!

I lost it "No, I don't have a candle burning in my room" the hatred was basically visible. I slammed the door in his face. Could this be it? 

Anyway the guy ratted me out, bitch. So now I am in trouble with the camp leader, he is actually gay, which makes this even funnier. 

My excuse "cultural difference" and cultural adaptation stress - brilliant argue with that camp mother!  I am also going to present their goals and objectives and challenge them - apparently they support personal growth and social development. I am going to suggest that their hierarchical and formal way of dealing with conflict will enable people from developing real-world conflict resolution skills. Take that America - you big fucking baby.  

 

I do love running along the river in the morning...

Guilt has penetrated my person. There are things I do like about America. There is that great 'new' feeling and appreciation about the scenery. It is often gray here with stalky looking trees and fog. That sounds depressing but it's not. It is new - New Zealand is never like this. It is foreign and an experience I will always attach to being here, in Sacramento. 

Post it notes the epitome of America

Please do not be lead to believe that I think all Americans are awful. It is not true. My room mate, yes I have a room mate, is a very lovely American girl. Being so lovely, she put her friends number on my wall planner so that I could get in contact with him, as we got along reasonably well. This provides the opportunity to expand my list of palatable Americans to two - a very exciting prospect. I was on my way out the door for a lecture when the said post-it note in question assaulted my vision. It was an orange, tubby, star post-it note with rounded spokes, as to never possibly have the option to ever hurt or offend anyone, god forbid. It just hung there violently out of place but content in its oblivion. The post-it note. The coloured post-it, the scratch and sniff post it, the shaped post-it, the multi-purpose post-it. It is just a piece of paper with some adhesive on it but American's could not leave it alone they had to make it better. Now the bastardized post-it, is fun, smells good, shines. I shuddered, shut the door and left for class.

Slothful Beauty?

There is a notable difference between New Zealand females and American ones. Now, before you crucify me for my wand like generalisation; I am aware that I am making them. You see, I just don't care. American females on campus seem to be somewhat confused about attire and make-up. The girls come out of their rooms in daggy looking track pants, which usually connotes a  lack of self respect and enthusiasm for life. They then top the look with a plain sweatshirt or hoody. Now this is not overly perplexing. People dress like this everywhere. The bit that throws me though, is the pain staking effort that has gone into the make-up and hair. The lips are lined, filled, glossed and probably dabbed on tissue, for that matter, to allude to the 'I want you to think I haven't just put this on but I have just put this on' look. It is very similar to the 'bed-head look' of the 90s - you know the one you spend three hours on and costs you $30 for just the right product to guarantee you with that 'I don't give a shit look' - it's cool because its natural. Here is the thing: It's not natural, you were sold it, your not cool because you bought into it, it is obvious you bought into it. Therefore, we all know you give a shit. So for god sake's if your going to "Give a shit" do us all a favour and do just that give a shit, be consistent. It's one thing to so obviously care about your image it is totally another thing to care about you image and still manage to look trash. Drop the daggy trackies and put on some decent threads.

I nightmare of hellish food continues

Alone in my kiwi-nod

It's not mumps it's an allergic reaction, how whimpy!

Well folks, it turns out that I am not dying from the mumps nor is it meningitis or glandular fever it's an allergic reaction! 

I worked at Common Sense Organics for nearly two years, it is a health store, in that time I developed a strong hatred for people with allergies, especially food allergies. They would come in sniveling, blotchy, with just a general look of ill health "I can't eat dairy, wheat, egg, gluten, yeast or sugar". It is just whimpy. Who likes those people with all their annoying dietary requirements and specifications. No one! And now I am one of them. The doctor does not know what the reaction is from it could be from the new vitamins I am taking or the tooth whitening gel (that will teach me for being vane), or food. The food at my dinning commons: processed meat and cheese, deep fried anything, tinned goods, white bread, refined sugar and mayonnaise. I am probably allergic to some super duper nasty flavour enhancer they shove in everything to make it edible. 

Downside: I have to take very strong steroids that can induce psychosis. 

I did argue the need for such measures and the doc smiled and said it is that or the possibility of your airways contracting and you being hospitalized. If hospitalized they would pump me fill of whatever they liked so I figured psychosis would have to be another funny blog.

2nd Downside: Antibiotics are also required, as the above medication weakens your immune system and I was lucky enough to contract a cold. Therefore the cold would get more severe and complicate things further thus the antibiotics are necessary. Joy!

Upside: By the end of the week my face may be back to normal, gone are my days of hiding in my room in the dark, alas I will have to go to class today and I still look like I have elephantitis.