I'm feeling a bit wooshy this afternoon and I have to head to my therapy appointment in about 15 minutes.
An update on the Old Navy debacle. Apparently, someone named Ray who claims to be an Old Navy customer service employee was bitching on MySpace about how annoyed he was to be fielding all the calls and e-mails that were coming in about the plus-size line. To Ray, I say boo-hoo! Your job is to field the calls of people who are not happy with your company or their product. If you didn't know this when you got the job, then you surely didn't know what "customer service" meant in the first place. Second, just an FYI, telling potential customers of the company you work for that the market for the clothes they buy is smaller than their "fat ass" is not a very wise career move. (You can read more about this on Big Fat Deal, if you like.) It just doesn't get any better than this...
Unless, you go to visit the Smart Bitches page, you will witness another strange wonder. There have been a few controversies lately in the weblogs that review romance novels. Apparently one woman wrote a comment on another's blog that her review of a book was causing editors and writers to feel suicidal. And on Smart Bitches itself, someone purporting to be the male abs model who had been dished sometime in the past couple of weeks wrote a not so veiled death threat in the comments.
Both of the real individuals were contacted directly and while they denied being the authors (well the woman actually never denied categorically she was the author of said comment), they failed to show much interest about the matter. I don't know about you, but if someone pretends to be me and presents their opinion as me, I'd be pretty disturbed. I'd especially be disturbed if someone posed threats in my name. Sometimes the internet is stranger than fiction.
I'm off to go do some talking, then get a chiropractor adjustment, then get some lunch, then drop off some prescriptions. I really do need to investigate the mail-order pharmacy option, I think.