Subjects about which I am irate

1. CTV making fun of Dion "not understanding the question". Look - it was a badly worded question. In fact, it was a crappy, unintelligible question. "If you were prime minister today, what would you have done differently about the financial crisis?" Seriously... two different verb tenses, two different questions, and the man's a francophone - hell, I'm NOT a francophone and I was confused. And then they get all superior about it and are like "we think the Canadian people ought to see this." I guess the Canadian people do have a right to see that CTV can't word their fucking questions...

2. The bartender at Reggie's, who tried to hit on me and then admitted he didn't realize it was the first day of hockey until he arrived at work. Whatever.

3. The entire staff of Banana Republic. On the topic of Banana Republic - what kind of name is that for a store? I wrote them an irate letter... must've been 10 years ago, the internet was pretty new. I said that it was a stupid, arrogant, offensive name for a store - like calling your store "The Holocaust", or "Homeless Brand Clothing" (which exists in Spain - true story). Anyway, I was attempting to be reasonable about the fact that they can't really change their name at this point, especially in light of the fact that I actually fit in their clothes, which doesn't happen in just any store. But the staff... jeesh. First off, how does a store on Ste. Catherine and McGill not have any bilingual staff? That seems like poor business practice. But whatever, I can shop in French. The really annoying thing was that none of the sale merchandise in the petite section has the markdown price actually labled on it. It just says "sale." So I asked the guy when I came out of the changing room "do you know how much this is?" He was confused. He read the price off the tag. I explained that it was in the sale rack. He said he didn't know what that meant - maybe it was a mistake. I should ask at the counter. So I asked the girl who was actually in the department. She gave me this whithering look and said "Well, *I* certainly don't have the price of every item memorized..." Huh. She figured it wasn't on sale, and somebody had put it there by mistake. Even though it was the only one of its kind, and there were 20 actual things on sale in that section, max, so you'd think she'd recognize them. So I took it to the counter and asked the guy at the cash, who checked my *other* item's tag, and then when I corrected him gave me this look of total exhaustion, and checked the price for me with absolute resignation to the stupidity of life in general. In the end, the poor sweater cost too much, so he just sighed and tossed it aside and rang up my other shirt and didn't give me any tissue paper in my bag. Hmph.

4. Metro handrails. Many times, I've been walking down the stairs in a metro, and thought "huh. You could really hurt yourself on those 'safety feature' bumps they put on there." Like, they put little rectangular-solid attachments at regular intervals down the rail, presumably to keep people from skateboarding or sliding down them. But seriously... if people are going to be dumb, they'll find a way to get hurt. Why should you try to protect them at the expense of thousands of people who are just trying to use the stairs? Sure enough, today I was trotting down the stairs at Vendome, listening to music, and BLAM! I whack the side of my hand against one of those bumps. I wasn't going very fast, but I must've hit my hand just right, because I swear I thought I'd broken my finger for hours after the fact. I couldn't really move it, and it hurt, and I got a huge purple bruise that took most of the day to go away. Vicious bastards.
5. This profile description: "I'm a left wing, free thinker girl: meaning I'm a feminist anarchist queer . So please don't write if you don't have the same basic values." Oh my god.