<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1690719766516257013</id><updated>2012-02-16T19:54:19.307-08:00</updated><category term='social obligations'/><category term='general annoyance'/><category term='phones'/><category term='cell phone use'/><category term='etiquette'/><category term='annoyance'/><category term='life'/><title type='text'>You Know What Grinds My Gears</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mygrindedgears.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1690719766516257013/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mygrindedgears.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Brea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13789331701795647094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>3</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1690719766516257013.post-8158539625496668276</id><published>2009-03-19T16:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T17:04:07.820-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='etiquette'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='general annoyance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cell phone use'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='phones'/><title type='text'>12 minute voicemail messages</title><content type='html'>You know what grinds my gears? People who leave 12 minute voicemail messages.  It's ridiculous, and we BOTH know that you don't have that many important things to say, if you did you would give me a brief snippet and wait for me to return your call because you would want to actually TALK to ME.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The problem with 12 minute voicemail messages is that they are loaded with other issues.  Usually culprits are: rude and smarmy, saying things to your voicemail that they wouldn't have the balls to say to your face, are completely incapable of considering the comforts and rights of others, and are d-bags.  These kind of people include: ex's, in-laws, friends going through the same break-up for the 5th time (I file this under temporary insanity) and some landlords.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes people get really excited about something and forget to stop talking, if you have left a message where you have been cut off due to length of your message it is your DUTY to call back and BRIEFLY apologize (no need to be a repeat offender).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Moms are universally excused from this rule.  It is not their fault because they simply cannot help themselves.  They are the only people that legitimately have THAT MANY things to say and don't really need your feedback.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1690719766516257013-8158539625496668276?l=mygrindedgears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mygrindedgears.blogspot.com/feeds/8158539625496668276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mygrindedgears.blogspot.com/2009/03/12-minute-voicemail-messages.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1690719766516257013/posts/default/8158539625496668276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1690719766516257013/posts/default/8158539625496668276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mygrindedgears.blogspot.com/2009/03/12-minute-voicemail-messages.html' title='12 minute voicemail messages'/><author><name>Brea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13789331701795647094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1690719766516257013.post-3721261055077281547</id><published>2009-03-17T11:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T11:55:02.219-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='general annoyance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='social obligations'/><title type='text'>The Social Obligation of Saying "Hi" on the Street</title><content type='html'>It really grinds my gears when you see someone far away walking toward you and you don't want to say hi to them.  You know that you have to, but you don't want to and you dread it the entire time that you are walking closer to each other. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, when you are almost about to pass each other you see a glimmer of hope, they might not acknowledge you, thus releasing you from your obligation.  Just as you start to make a mad dash past them, they say hi.  It's like being shot with a dart. You say hi, and your hurt yourself by giving a fake smile quickly without properly stretching your face muscles.  Then you walk away grumbling because your face has a charlie horse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It always adds insult to injury when they say the wrong name, or a nickname that you have not given them leave to use.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1690719766516257013-3721261055077281547?l=mygrindedgears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mygrindedgears.blogspot.com/feeds/3721261055077281547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mygrindedgears.blogspot.com/2009/03/social-obligation-of-saying-hi-on.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1690719766516257013/posts/default/3721261055077281547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1690719766516257013/posts/default/3721261055077281547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mygrindedgears.blogspot.com/2009/03/social-obligation-of-saying-hi-on.html' title='The Social Obligation of Saying &quot;Hi&quot; on the Street'/><author><name>Brea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13789331701795647094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1690719766516257013.post-7851840626095568058</id><published>2009-03-03T11:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T11:31:07.242-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='annoyance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>When People Casually Ask About Things THEY Screwed Up</title><content type='html'>It really grinds my gears when people totally screw something up (which involves screwing you over in the process), goes on with their life as if nothing happened, and later asks about the situation (oh so casually). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why? I mean what is the point of doing that? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know you screwed up, I know you screwed up, unless you are trying to rectify the situation then shut up about it.  All that is accomplished by casually talking about it is providing me with proof that you never really gave a flying fruit cake in the first place.  But since you screwed me over to begin with, I ALREADY KNOW YOU DON'T CARE.  GOT IT. NOTED.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I screw up I try to fix it.  If I can't, then I for freak's sure don't casually reference the screw up.  That's stupid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1690719766516257013-7851840626095568058?l=mygrindedgears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mygrindedgears.blogspot.com/feeds/7851840626095568058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mygrindedgears.blogspot.com/2009/03/when-people-casually-ask-about-things.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1690719766516257013/posts/default/7851840626095568058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1690719766516257013/posts/default/7851840626095568058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mygrindedgears.blogspot.com/2009/03/when-people-casually-ask-about-things.html' title='When People Casually Ask About Things THEY Screwed Up'/><author><name>Brea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13789331701795647094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
