is it just me?
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
wedding saturdays within the month of june
saturday was wedding day. Not mine, of course. Someone else's. Again. Not only did I have an actual wedding to attend on Saturday afternoon, but I spent the morning with my friend who is recently engaged looking for a wedding dress. For those of you who have never done this, it is quite unlike shopping in a normal store where they have all the products in all the sizes available for viewing. In wedding shops they usually only have a couple sizes of each dress, and most of their inventory is hidden from view. You pick out a few that you like, and then you and your entourage (and everyone shopping at these places has a sizeable entourage) go into a little room and you try them all on. You have a "consultant" who's in there to help you. The good ones are the cranky old ladies who are brutally honest and generally right on the money. They are all women (of course) usually older than all the brides to be, and are doing their best to be super sweet without appearing salesmany, which most of them fail miserably at.
Anyway, we were at this place which I found a little creepy. it's decorated like your grandma's bathroom. you can't do anything without an appointment or a consultant. You can't browse, you can't look at shoes, etc. Not to mention that all the consultants are wearing these weird uniforms that look like a cross between bad waitress outfits and something a maid would wear. Anyway, we're in the tiny room just making idle conversation. We're laughing about the El de Barge muzak, which is followed by Lean on Me. We start discussing that this was everyone's eighth grade graduation song for about five years running. Let's face it, cheesy as it may be that song really rang true with all those angst ridden teens of the 80s (myself included). Since my friend was feeling self conscious about dressing in front of all of us, we were trying to distract ourselves (which wasn't too hard). So one girl was talking about Tom Cruise on the Today Show and she said she and the other nurses on the night shift had decided that he's manic depressive and is currently in a manic phase. As we're discussing the merits of this theory the consultant (basically out of nowhere) says "They just like to say things about famous people even if they're not true. I know a famous person nd there's all kinds of stuff about them in the news but in real life they're totally normal. They're not like they say at all."
What the hell. "I know a famous person?" Which one? The local weather guy? You mom's cousin who won the powerball lottery? The unabomber? Somehow I find it somewhat unlikely that she knows a bonafide celebrity. I mean, I met Gregory Peck at a film festival once but I wouldn't tell anyone I know a famous person. So Jen says "Whatever. I know for a fact that Tom Cruise is crazy." She's trying to see if she can drive the consultant crazy. It kind of worked. It was sort of downhill from there and we all made a speedy exit.
On the topic of Tom Cruise, I really have no idea what that guy is thinking. I don't think I would advocate getting engaged after one week together just to prove how in love you are. We're not fooled. As I mentioned in an earlier post, Tom Cruise may think he's famous enough to just do whatever he wants but if he keeps acting like a freak about how much he loves his 15 year old girlfriend (oh sorry...fiancee) and talking about how we all need to get off medication because we have the power to heal ourselves I think he'll figure out that even he can fall from grace. Scientology is a crazy crazy institution that is after your money under the guise of religion. If you're not rich I recommend staying far away. On a final note, as an avid celeb watcher (and People Magazine subscriber) I would like to cast a wholehearted no vote against the whole celebrity couple naming thing. I mean, Bennifer was bad but it was so easy. Brangelina? Come on. TomKat? Now you're starting to piss me off. Please stop this madness immediately.
****
Back to the wedding. It has been unseasonably hot here in Madison, with temperatures in the mid-90s and ridiculous humidity. They were calling for thunderstorms the afternoon of the wedding (don't worry, I am going somewhere with this local on the 8s) so they were screwed either way: it was either going to be a billion degrees or it was going to be pouring. Hard to know what to wish for. What they got was extreme heat. We were sitting on the roof of the convention center, overlooking a lake which was a nice setting, if you could get past the fact that the plastic chairs were so hot that they were sticking to everything. And the ceremony was nice, though compromised for me by the fact that I was trying to decide if my face was actually melting along with taking mental bets about who was going to pass out first: grandma or the groom.
Once inside the lovely, air conditioned reception hall, I see a beautiful thing. It is a martini bar. They have several kinds of martinis, and a giant martini glass ice sculpture which they actually pour the drinks through to chill them. Unfortunately, once you have planned a wedding all you think when you first see something like that is "I wonder what that cost them". But hey - it was there for the taking. The only problem was that it takes a long time to make a martini. It takes even longer if you have to pour it through a funnel in a giant ice sculpture. Now, it is possible that this was all by design to make it take 20 minutes to get your drink which mean you were drinking a lot slower and therefore not consuming as much alcohol. In any case, for those of us who had more than one (or two) the novelty wore off and you started knocking past old ladies trying to get the bartenders to hurry up. But it was a nice thought.
Also at the wedding was a young woman, probably the cousin of the groom or somehting. She appeared from behind to be about 25 and she appeared from the front to be almost certainly under 18. She was wearing a tiny (and I mean tiny) black dress with about as short a skirt on it as you can have and not show your underwear. All the guys were checking her out. To be honest, I am not exactly sure when it became the fashion for young women to dress like hookers, but that is certainly how it is. And at every wedding there seems to be a nice little piece of jailbait. So look out.
Finally, there was one thing that they did at this wedding that I am not sure I agree with. There was a sizeable group of people who were invited to the ceremony, dinner and the reception. Then, apparently, there were other people who were just invited for drinks and dancing at the end of the evening. Now, I am sure in the abstract this seemed like a great idea. They thought it would be fun for these people. I am sure the couple told themselves "that's really the fun part anyway, so they'll think it's great". I don't think so. I mean, then you know you're B list, right? We like you. Not enough to serve you dinner, but enough to give you a drink or two and let you listen to some music. But no cake. Just drinks. And everyone else will already be hammered by the time you get there. And they'll feel superior because they qualified for the whole deal. It's weird. Don't do it. And if someone invites you just for part of their wedding, I might say don't go. But obviously it's up to you. If you want to walk in with loser stamped on your forehead all in the name of free beer, go right ahead.
So, after the wedding I wanted to go home. But this woman who used to work with my husband (as did the groom) is in a band and her band was playing at a place called the Annex. Now, I saw Neko Case at the Annex, but I also know that it is really mostly punk/rock venue. In fact, the current incarnation of the heavy metal band that my high school boyfriend was in (Decrepit Tomb - maybe you've heard of them?) actually played there on tour some time ago. This did not make me want to go. The other thing is that I was in wedding clothes, and not hip hooker wedding clothes. Boring, fancy wedding clothes. And a pink sweater. People don't wear pink cardigans at the Annex. But a bunch of people wanted to go see this girl's punk band. As we parked next to the club I said to my husband "are you really going to make me do this?" Usually that works. That's how I say 'I really really don't want to do this.' Usually he says "okay, we don't have to do it." Not this time. So we rolled in to the annex looking like two huge dorks. I ordered a Budweiser in some attempt to improve my image (it didn't work) though I really really didn't need another drink. So, the girl we know is actually the drummer in the band which is kind of cool. It's just her and two other guys. Truthfully, they weren't bad. Though the show kind of reminded me of all those metal shows I used to go to in Andy Deane's basement when I was in high school. There really weren't very many people there. It's not true punk, more of pop punk. And they had some catchy lyrics. But when they did a singalong (1!2! Fuck you!) and I was still sitting there in my pink cardigan and my warming bud longneck I thought, I'm done. I scraped whatever tiny bit of pride was left and walked out in my pointy high heeled shoes, probably to never return to the Annex again.
As a side note, this band we saw actually won Band of the Year at they Wammys (like the grammys but only for Wisconsin and therefore ever so slightly less prestigious). So they're relatively good. And a few people go see them. And for some reason the girl drummer doesn't have a boyfriend. I would think that a girl drummer in a decent punk band would be a shoe in. Shows what I know.
Anyway, we were at this place which I found a little creepy. it's decorated like your grandma's bathroom. you can't do anything without an appointment or a consultant. You can't browse, you can't look at shoes, etc. Not to mention that all the consultants are wearing these weird uniforms that look like a cross between bad waitress outfits and something a maid would wear. Anyway, we're in the tiny room just making idle conversation. We're laughing about the El de Barge muzak, which is followed by Lean on Me. We start discussing that this was everyone's eighth grade graduation song for about five years running. Let's face it, cheesy as it may be that song really rang true with all those angst ridden teens of the 80s (myself included). Since my friend was feeling self conscious about dressing in front of all of us, we were trying to distract ourselves (which wasn't too hard). So one girl was talking about Tom Cruise on the Today Show and she said she and the other nurses on the night shift had decided that he's manic depressive and is currently in a manic phase. As we're discussing the merits of this theory the consultant (basically out of nowhere) says "They just like to say things about famous people even if they're not true. I know a famous person nd there's all kinds of stuff about them in the news but in real life they're totally normal. They're not like they say at all."
What the hell. "I know a famous person?" Which one? The local weather guy? You mom's cousin who won the powerball lottery? The unabomber? Somehow I find it somewhat unlikely that she knows a bonafide celebrity. I mean, I met Gregory Peck at a film festival once but I wouldn't tell anyone I know a famous person. So Jen says "Whatever. I know for a fact that Tom Cruise is crazy." She's trying to see if she can drive the consultant crazy. It kind of worked. It was sort of downhill from there and we all made a speedy exit.
On the topic of Tom Cruise, I really have no idea what that guy is thinking. I don't think I would advocate getting engaged after one week together just to prove how in love you are. We're not fooled. As I mentioned in an earlier post, Tom Cruise may think he's famous enough to just do whatever he wants but if he keeps acting like a freak about how much he loves his 15 year old girlfriend (oh sorry...fiancee) and talking about how we all need to get off medication because we have the power to heal ourselves I think he'll figure out that even he can fall from grace. Scientology is a crazy crazy institution that is after your money under the guise of religion. If you're not rich I recommend staying far away. On a final note, as an avid celeb watcher (and People Magazine subscriber) I would like to cast a wholehearted no vote against the whole celebrity couple naming thing. I mean, Bennifer was bad but it was so easy. Brangelina? Come on. TomKat? Now you're starting to piss me off. Please stop this madness immediately.
****
Back to the wedding. It has been unseasonably hot here in Madison, with temperatures in the mid-90s and ridiculous humidity. They were calling for thunderstorms the afternoon of the wedding (don't worry, I am going somewhere with this local on the 8s) so they were screwed either way: it was either going to be a billion degrees or it was going to be pouring. Hard to know what to wish for. What they got was extreme heat. We were sitting on the roof of the convention center, overlooking a lake which was a nice setting, if you could get past the fact that the plastic chairs were so hot that they were sticking to everything. And the ceremony was nice, though compromised for me by the fact that I was trying to decide if my face was actually melting along with taking mental bets about who was going to pass out first: grandma or the groom.
Once inside the lovely, air conditioned reception hall, I see a beautiful thing. It is a martini bar. They have several kinds of martinis, and a giant martini glass ice sculpture which they actually pour the drinks through to chill them. Unfortunately, once you have planned a wedding all you think when you first see something like that is "I wonder what that cost them". But hey - it was there for the taking. The only problem was that it takes a long time to make a martini. It takes even longer if you have to pour it through a funnel in a giant ice sculpture. Now, it is possible that this was all by design to make it take 20 minutes to get your drink which mean you were drinking a lot slower and therefore not consuming as much alcohol. In any case, for those of us who had more than one (or two) the novelty wore off and you started knocking past old ladies trying to get the bartenders to hurry up. But it was a nice thought.
Also at the wedding was a young woman, probably the cousin of the groom or somehting. She appeared from behind to be about 25 and she appeared from the front to be almost certainly under 18. She was wearing a tiny (and I mean tiny) black dress with about as short a skirt on it as you can have and not show your underwear. All the guys were checking her out. To be honest, I am not exactly sure when it became the fashion for young women to dress like hookers, but that is certainly how it is. And at every wedding there seems to be a nice little piece of jailbait. So look out.
Finally, there was one thing that they did at this wedding that I am not sure I agree with. There was a sizeable group of people who were invited to the ceremony, dinner and the reception. Then, apparently, there were other people who were just invited for drinks and dancing at the end of the evening. Now, I am sure in the abstract this seemed like a great idea. They thought it would be fun for these people. I am sure the couple told themselves "that's really the fun part anyway, so they'll think it's great". I don't think so. I mean, then you know you're B list, right? We like you. Not enough to serve you dinner, but enough to give you a drink or two and let you listen to some music. But no cake. Just drinks. And everyone else will already be hammered by the time you get there. And they'll feel superior because they qualified for the whole deal. It's weird. Don't do it. And if someone invites you just for part of their wedding, I might say don't go. But obviously it's up to you. If you want to walk in with loser stamped on your forehead all in the name of free beer, go right ahead.
So, after the wedding I wanted to go home. But this woman who used to work with my husband (as did the groom) is in a band and her band was playing at a place called the Annex. Now, I saw Neko Case at the Annex, but I also know that it is really mostly punk/rock venue. In fact, the current incarnation of the heavy metal band that my high school boyfriend was in (Decrepit Tomb - maybe you've heard of them?) actually played there on tour some time ago. This did not make me want to go. The other thing is that I was in wedding clothes, and not hip hooker wedding clothes. Boring, fancy wedding clothes. And a pink sweater. People don't wear pink cardigans at the Annex. But a bunch of people wanted to go see this girl's punk band. As we parked next to the club I said to my husband "are you really going to make me do this?" Usually that works. That's how I say 'I really really don't want to do this.' Usually he says "okay, we don't have to do it." Not this time. So we rolled in to the annex looking like two huge dorks. I ordered a Budweiser in some attempt to improve my image (it didn't work) though I really really didn't need another drink. So, the girl we know is actually the drummer in the band which is kind of cool. It's just her and two other guys. Truthfully, they weren't bad. Though the show kind of reminded me of all those metal shows I used to go to in Andy Deane's basement when I was in high school. There really weren't very many people there. It's not true punk, more of pop punk. And they had some catchy lyrics. But when they did a singalong (1!2! Fuck you!) and I was still sitting there in my pink cardigan and my warming bud longneck I thought, I'm done. I scraped whatever tiny bit of pride was left and walked out in my pointy high heeled shoes, probably to never return to the Annex again.
As a side note, this band we saw actually won Band of the Year at they Wammys (like the grammys but only for Wisconsin and therefore ever so slightly less prestigious). So they're relatively good. And a few people go see them. And for some reason the girl drummer doesn't have a boyfriend. I would think that a girl drummer in a decent punk band would be a shoe in. Shows what I know.
Thursday, June 23, 2005
that'll teach me.
I thought I would be nice to those kids. Sneaky little bastards.
So, I am innocently walking through library mall today. This is an open area where in the summer they have food carts. It's a nice little gathering place in the center of campus. I first see a guy reading the bible to no one in particular. This is not uncommon on library mall, and some people even use a pulpit-type thing that was built in the 60s in the days of marches, protests, etc to preach to the unsuspecting masses. Then this little cub scout looking kid says "Excuse me, would you be willing to take a face survey? It only takes two minutes." "I'm sorry, what kind of survey?" "A faith survey." Um...I guess. I am quite reluctant but these kids are like 11 years old and it's about a billion degrees outside and no one is talking to them. I am kind of creeped out that they are Jesus scouts, not cub scouts, but whatever. They said it would be quick. Here's what happened.
Jesus Scout (JS): What religion are you?
Me: Episcopalian. (This is only true on lineage, as I was never baptized and do not regularly attend church. But I thought these kids might freak out if I said none.)
JS: What is God to you?
Me: Excuse me?
JS: What is God to you? You know, creator, all powerful, stuff like that. (keep in mind, this kid is 11.)
Holy shit. Helping these kids out was a BIG mistake. My question is: do MOST people have a quick response to that kind of question? When I think of surveys I think of "how many times a week do you go to the grocery store?" or "how many times in the last 6 months have you ordered something online?" This question sort of gets to your fundamental beliefs about the universe. This is not what I had bargained for. I consider saying, you know what you little freaks? I am not taking your survey. Instead I plan to go straight to hell, and I am taking your moms with me. But I am a nicer person than that. And I have to admit, there was an element of curiousity. I mean, what could possibly be the follow up question to that? What do you feel is your purpose on this Earth?
But first I am sure you are wondering how I answered that question. In the end, I didn't. I said "I don't really know the answer to that question." Next.
JS: Do you feel that you know God? Well...I guess not.
Me: Nope (feeling a little weird since now this kid is getting judgemental. I mean, it is correct that if you don't know what God is to you you probably don't feel that you know him, but it was still weird.)
JS: Do you believe in the after-life?
Me: Sure
JS: Do you believe that we are judged in the after-life for the way we lived our life on Earth?
Okay, now I am starting to panic. My hands are sweating. There's now three little scouts: one asking, one writing the answers and another one just hanging around. Here I am, a grown woman talking to three boys I have never met about god and the afterlife. I can't make eye contact with them. I am wondering how many questions there are. I start wondering who the sickos are that sent these kids out to do their "faith survey". I feel sure they got yelled at at least once, and I bet a lot more people bailed in the middle of the survey. These are serious questions that are not easy to answer for anyone, I would imagine, but certainly not for me.
I was already feeling suspicious when the real issue came out:
JS: How do you feel about gay marriage?
Aha. I should have known. I mean, I did know. The good news is that question is so much easier for me than the other ones. I am fully in favor of allowing gay marriage.
JS: How do you feel about abortion and stem cell research?
Nice question, kid. I love how those two things have become the same. But again, easy for me. Pro-choice, pro stem-cell research.
I can't remember if there were any more questions. At this point I was so traumatized that I was starting to lose my appetite. At some point they said. Okay, thank you. And I just left. FOrtunately they have the good sense not to ask for any personal details, but I still think it was quite irresponsible to send these kids out on the street to ask these sorts of questions. These are things people fight about. They make people feel very upset. Though, maybe that's why they used the kids, since they thought no one would beat them up or anything. Who the hell knows. In any case, it was freaky and I didn't like it. Not one bit.
So, I am innocently walking through library mall today. This is an open area where in the summer they have food carts. It's a nice little gathering place in the center of campus. I first see a guy reading the bible to no one in particular. This is not uncommon on library mall, and some people even use a pulpit-type thing that was built in the 60s in the days of marches, protests, etc to preach to the unsuspecting masses. Then this little cub scout looking kid says "Excuse me, would you be willing to take a face survey? It only takes two minutes." "I'm sorry, what kind of survey?" "A faith survey." Um...I guess. I am quite reluctant but these kids are like 11 years old and it's about a billion degrees outside and no one is talking to them. I am kind of creeped out that they are Jesus scouts, not cub scouts, but whatever. They said it would be quick. Here's what happened.
Jesus Scout (JS): What religion are you?
Me: Episcopalian. (This is only true on lineage, as I was never baptized and do not regularly attend church. But I thought these kids might freak out if I said none.)
JS: What is God to you?
Me: Excuse me?
JS: What is God to you? You know, creator, all powerful, stuff like that. (keep in mind, this kid is 11.)
Holy shit. Helping these kids out was a BIG mistake. My question is: do MOST people have a quick response to that kind of question? When I think of surveys I think of "how many times a week do you go to the grocery store?" or "how many times in the last 6 months have you ordered something online?" This question sort of gets to your fundamental beliefs about the universe. This is not what I had bargained for. I consider saying, you know what you little freaks? I am not taking your survey. Instead I plan to go straight to hell, and I am taking your moms with me. But I am a nicer person than that. And I have to admit, there was an element of curiousity. I mean, what could possibly be the follow up question to that? What do you feel is your purpose on this Earth?
But first I am sure you are wondering how I answered that question. In the end, I didn't. I said "I don't really know the answer to that question." Next.
JS: Do you feel that you know God? Well...I guess not.
Me: Nope (feeling a little weird since now this kid is getting judgemental. I mean, it is correct that if you don't know what God is to you you probably don't feel that you know him, but it was still weird.)
JS: Do you believe in the after-life?
Me: Sure
JS: Do you believe that we are judged in the after-life for the way we lived our life on Earth?
Okay, now I am starting to panic. My hands are sweating. There's now three little scouts: one asking, one writing the answers and another one just hanging around. Here I am, a grown woman talking to three boys I have never met about god and the afterlife. I can't make eye contact with them. I am wondering how many questions there are. I start wondering who the sickos are that sent these kids out to do their "faith survey". I feel sure they got yelled at at least once, and I bet a lot more people bailed in the middle of the survey. These are serious questions that are not easy to answer for anyone, I would imagine, but certainly not for me.
I was already feeling suspicious when the real issue came out:
JS: How do you feel about gay marriage?
Aha. I should have known. I mean, I did know. The good news is that question is so much easier for me than the other ones. I am fully in favor of allowing gay marriage.
JS: How do you feel about abortion and stem cell research?
Nice question, kid. I love how those two things have become the same. But again, easy for me. Pro-choice, pro stem-cell research.
I can't remember if there were any more questions. At this point I was so traumatized that I was starting to lose my appetite. At some point they said. Okay, thank you. And I just left. FOrtunately they have the good sense not to ask for any personal details, but I still think it was quite irresponsible to send these kids out on the street to ask these sorts of questions. These are things people fight about. They make people feel very upset. Though, maybe that's why they used the kids, since they thought no one would beat them up or anything. Who the hell knows. In any case, it was freaky and I didn't like it. Not one bit.
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
i have to work here.
every day. I was just cleaning out my email inbox and found this old message from someone in my building which I kept because it made me laugh so hard. he sent it to everyone who works here. now you can enjoy.
Hello,
I have a coupon for a FREE Seasoned Beef Crunchy Taco at TACO BELL, which
expires 12/31/2004. Stop by to claim it. I am in room 216.
Shinn-Shyr
Hello,
I have a coupon for a FREE Seasoned Beef Crunchy Taco at TACO BELL, which
expires 12/31/2004. Stop by to claim it. I am in room 216.
Shinn-Shyr
can you see me now?
I was at the doctor's office yesterday. I took a nasty spill and needed to make sure I didn't break part of my hand. You will all be relieved to know that I did not. Anyway, I got in the elevator to head down to x-ray. We stopped on the second floor and a prisoner got on. He was wearing arm and leg shackles, and was accompanied by two guards. Now, elevators are kind of awkward places anyway. You're in this tiny box that's hurtling through space, standing much closer to strangers than you would ever choose to, trying to find a neutral space to gaze at, wondering who smells, and desperately hoping not to get stuck. Now do that with a convicted felon in there with you. It's kind of hard to act anything close to natural. I am trying to appear not to notice that his hands and legs are bound together (I am sure that worked. I have a very convincing face.). So I am looking at the list of what's on each floor. This gentleman got on on the second floor. The only thing there is opthamology and the eyeglass store. I guess I am glad to know that you get the gift of corrected eyesight even if you're in prison, but for some reason it struck me as kind of funny. I mean, do they really need to see all that well? I guess maybe they want to read or something. But I sort of figured that you didn't necessarily have a current eye prescription if you were in jail. So I got my xray, went back to the third floor, got checked out byt he doctor, was on my way back down when, on the second floor, ANOTHER prisoner gets on, in shackles, with two guards. This guy bears a strange resemblance to don king but is wearing those funny glasses they give you when they dialate your eyes. Apparently yesterday was "take your prisoner to the eye doctor day". So, confronted with another elevator trip I pretended to be deeply involved in the bus schedule. I think he totally bought it.
you're the expert
So, as I mentioned I went to the doctor to have my hand checked out. Why is it that if you go to the doctor and nothing is wrong with you they act kind of exasperated? I mean, how am I supposed to accurately self diagnose? I didn't go to medical school. That's your job. How should I know if my finger is broken? It's swollen to something nearing twice it's normal size and it's a color normally reserved for varicose veins. It is not pretty, people. But is it broken? How the hell should I know? I feel like this all the time when I go to the doctor. Now, I understand that the other part (and perhaps more important than diagnosis) is the curing part, but still. I shouldn't feel bad because I don't have xray vision, or know what migraines really feel like, or whatever else. If it's so easy that I should know exactly what's wrong with me why did you have to go to school for eight extra years? Dumbass.
You know who else does this? Computer people. They are a little different though. They like to ask you questions like "did you defrag your mother board?" just to make you feel tiny before they actually fix your computer which is doing something really sophisticatedly complicated like not printing. (Okay, so if any computer people read this they are probably thinking "Silly Lizard, you can't defrag a mother board". Obviously I have no idea what I am talking about.) And when they fix it and you are happy they act extremely superior. I find this tiresome.
But the worst of all are those punkass high schoolers who work in video and record stores. Why do they all have to be such condescending assholes? Now, for social reasons I prefer to patronize the local record stores. I'd rather buy my stuff from them than, say, Sam Goody (the lowest of the low). But all the people that work there are so awful. If you dare buy anything that they (horror of all horrors) play on the radio station, they'll take your money but not before they make you feel like a commercialized piece of trash that couldn't have an independent thought if your life depended on it. Recently I was purchasing the new Bruce Springsteen album for my dad for father's day (he really liked it). As the guy says "Is there anything else?" he has this look on his face that says "shoot me now". The people in the movie stores are the same. At my local video store all the kids think they are so cool (apparently they never got the memo about people who work in video stores). No matter what I rent they read off the title with a tone that says "another asshole who watches popular movies". Don't these people realize that there aren't enough people in the world who listen to Death Cab for Cutie and only watch Iranian slasher movies to pay their salary? That all those people who love Charlies Angels are what make their tiny world go round? judge not lest ye be judged, kiddies, judge not.
you're the expert
So, as I mentioned I went to the doctor to have my hand checked out. Why is it that if you go to the doctor and nothing is wrong with you they act kind of exasperated? I mean, how am I supposed to accurately self diagnose? I didn't go to medical school. That's your job. How should I know if my finger is broken? It's swollen to something nearing twice it's normal size and it's a color normally reserved for varicose veins. It is not pretty, people. But is it broken? How the hell should I know? I feel like this all the time when I go to the doctor. Now, I understand that the other part (and perhaps more important than diagnosis) is the curing part, but still. I shouldn't feel bad because I don't have xray vision, or know what migraines really feel like, or whatever else. If it's so easy that I should know exactly what's wrong with me why did you have to go to school for eight extra years? Dumbass.
You know who else does this? Computer people. They are a little different though. They like to ask you questions like "did you defrag your mother board?" just to make you feel tiny before they actually fix your computer which is doing something really sophisticatedly complicated like not printing. (Okay, so if any computer people read this they are probably thinking "Silly Lizard, you can't defrag a mother board". Obviously I have no idea what I am talking about.) And when they fix it and you are happy they act extremely superior. I find this tiresome.
But the worst of all are those punkass high schoolers who work in video and record stores. Why do they all have to be such condescending assholes? Now, for social reasons I prefer to patronize the local record stores. I'd rather buy my stuff from them than, say, Sam Goody (the lowest of the low). But all the people that work there are so awful. If you dare buy anything that they (horror of all horrors) play on the radio station, they'll take your money but not before they make you feel like a commercialized piece of trash that couldn't have an independent thought if your life depended on it. Recently I was purchasing the new Bruce Springsteen album for my dad for father's day (he really liked it). As the guy says "Is there anything else?" he has this look on his face that says "shoot me now". The people in the movie stores are the same. At my local video store all the kids think they are so cool (apparently they never got the memo about people who work in video stores). No matter what I rent they read off the title with a tone that says "another asshole who watches popular movies". Don't these people realize that there aren't enough people in the world who listen to Death Cab for Cutie and only watch Iranian slasher movies to pay their salary? That all those people who love Charlies Angels are what make their tiny world go round? judge not lest ye be judged, kiddies, judge not.
Friday, June 17, 2005
why can't we be friends?
At some point in your life, making new friends becomes a lot like dating. When the time comes that you meet people at work or in other settings where there is no natural social interation, but you still want to interact socially it takes more effort. You start agonizing about what are appropriate activities to invite people to, you worry when they don't call you back, you wonder if they like you. It's really awful. It's hard for couples to find other couples where all four of you get along, and and it's also hard to find singles that you enjoy.
A lot of awkwardness results from this process. And it is truly remarkable how similar the process is to dating. For example, there is a woman I met through a committee that I am on. She seems nice. Good sense of humor. Smart. Since I was a graduate student when I moved here, and now work in the same department, I don't know many professional women my age. I have made friends with a couple of them in my neighborhood, but it's always good to know more. So I decided to see if she wanted to get a drink after our next meeting. I decided this was a good first step. Like going for coffee if you work together. I emailed her and she said she has to go to a fundraiser after the meeting, so is unavailable. She invited me to the fundraiser, but also offered a rain check. This seems like a positive response. I accepted said raincheck, but now have to wait for her to contact me, right? I think the ball's in her court. Having not dated anyone but my husband since 1998, this is foreign territory for me. Any advice on navigating it is greatly appreciated. Also: When did this happen? And is there anyway to avoid it?
The good thing is that if you get together and you don't have fun you don't have to make excuses. That can just be it. But of course there's the same problem of one person having fun and the other one not. Or if one person is always asking and the other is always busy, then the non-busy one feels like a loser. oy vey.
On a related topic, while not having to break up is a distinct benefit of friend dating over regular dating, there are times when it would be useful to be able to break up with friends. Just say, "you know what? I am really not getting anything out of this friendship anymore, and I think we should just call it quits." I mean, of course that happens all the time. But it is often a long, drawn-out affair where you get together a few times and it's not fun, then you take a little longer to respond to emails and phone calls, until finally you never see each other on purpose. But it would be nice to sometimes just make a clean break. Especially with those people that are really good about keeping in touch, not necessarily because they want to but more because they compulsively keep in touch with everyone. And instead of occassionally getting together and feeling really bored, you could just break up with them and no one would have to feel guilty and you wouldn't have to suffer.
Here's another one: I have a few old friends that email me every once in a great while to say "are you still alive?" I dutifully respond with any interesting tidbit I can drag up about my life, and then I never hear from them until 9 months later when I get the same one line email "are you still alive?" I find this very tiresome. Either you want to know or you don't. But don't just keep me on your list because it makes you feel sad that you're not friends with anyone from college anymore. If you don't care about my life, that is totally fine. I don't mind. I don't feel sad. I don't feel rejected. I stink at keeping in touch and it is almost never personal. But this absolute minimalist approach to remaining friends I find useless. I do like the people that you can not call for three years and you call them up and find out everything and they don't mind that they didn't talk to you for three years but they really are glad to talk to you and then that's it. They don't pretend to want to establish regular communication, they aren't mad that you didn't invite them to your wedding. Just a drop in and drop out. But that's different than trying to pretend that you are really still friends with someone when in reality you're not. Call a spade a spade. Move on with your life.
And one last one: what about your friends that get boring/weird/generally unenjoyable? It's happened to all of us. Someone you used to like is not the same person. Don't you wish you could just tell them? "Sorry, Bob, but now that you're a hare krishna I really don't feel like we have much in common. I think I'll skip your next vegetarian barbecue." On the other hand, some people who you don't remember enjoying all that much get way better with age. Every once in a while I'll see someone and think "you're so much better than I remembered". Then you could trade them in for someone who quit their job and has three kids and really only likes to talk about swim lessons.
it appears that having friends, just like everything else, was much easier when we were eight.
A lot of awkwardness results from this process. And it is truly remarkable how similar the process is to dating. For example, there is a woman I met through a committee that I am on. She seems nice. Good sense of humor. Smart. Since I was a graduate student when I moved here, and now work in the same department, I don't know many professional women my age. I have made friends with a couple of them in my neighborhood, but it's always good to know more. So I decided to see if she wanted to get a drink after our next meeting. I decided this was a good first step. Like going for coffee if you work together. I emailed her and she said she has to go to a fundraiser after the meeting, so is unavailable. She invited me to the fundraiser, but also offered a rain check. This seems like a positive response. I accepted said raincheck, but now have to wait for her to contact me, right? I think the ball's in her court. Having not dated anyone but my husband since 1998, this is foreign territory for me. Any advice on navigating it is greatly appreciated. Also: When did this happen? And is there anyway to avoid it?
The good thing is that if you get together and you don't have fun you don't have to make excuses. That can just be it. But of course there's the same problem of one person having fun and the other one not. Or if one person is always asking and the other is always busy, then the non-busy one feels like a loser. oy vey.
On a related topic, while not having to break up is a distinct benefit of friend dating over regular dating, there are times when it would be useful to be able to break up with friends. Just say, "you know what? I am really not getting anything out of this friendship anymore, and I think we should just call it quits." I mean, of course that happens all the time. But it is often a long, drawn-out affair where you get together a few times and it's not fun, then you take a little longer to respond to emails and phone calls, until finally you never see each other on purpose. But it would be nice to sometimes just make a clean break. Especially with those people that are really good about keeping in touch, not necessarily because they want to but more because they compulsively keep in touch with everyone. And instead of occassionally getting together and feeling really bored, you could just break up with them and no one would have to feel guilty and you wouldn't have to suffer.
Here's another one: I have a few old friends that email me every once in a great while to say "are you still alive?" I dutifully respond with any interesting tidbit I can drag up about my life, and then I never hear from them until 9 months later when I get the same one line email "are you still alive?" I find this very tiresome. Either you want to know or you don't. But don't just keep me on your list because it makes you feel sad that you're not friends with anyone from college anymore. If you don't care about my life, that is totally fine. I don't mind. I don't feel sad. I don't feel rejected. I stink at keeping in touch and it is almost never personal. But this absolute minimalist approach to remaining friends I find useless. I do like the people that you can not call for three years and you call them up and find out everything and they don't mind that they didn't talk to you for three years but they really are glad to talk to you and then that's it. They don't pretend to want to establish regular communication, they aren't mad that you didn't invite them to your wedding. Just a drop in and drop out. But that's different than trying to pretend that you are really still friends with someone when in reality you're not. Call a spade a spade. Move on with your life.
And one last one: what about your friends that get boring/weird/generally unenjoyable? It's happened to all of us. Someone you used to like is not the same person. Don't you wish you could just tell them? "Sorry, Bob, but now that you're a hare krishna I really don't feel like we have much in common. I think I'll skip your next vegetarian barbecue." On the other hand, some people who you don't remember enjoying all that much get way better with age. Every once in a while I'll see someone and think "you're so much better than I remembered". Then you could trade them in for someone who quit their job and has three kids and really only likes to talk about swim lessons.
it appears that having friends, just like everything else, was much easier when we were eight.
three funny things.
Today I witnessed three things I want to share with you.
1. Walking to the gym I pass a Lutheran Church. In the window they have a 70s looking poster that says "Nothing can thwart God's path for you." Really? Nothing? How about not believing in God? Does he still have a path for those people? Is it well marked? I don't go to church so I might miss out on the more subtle signs. I need some big signs that say "Your path - this way" or else it is almost sure to be thwarted. I am now determined to find the path, thwart it, and move on.
2. I saw a young woman driving a Jeep Wrangler. On the front it says "It's a Jeep thing...You wouldn't understand." Oh, I don't know about that. Try me.
3. At the gym there are two young women checking id's. As I hand one of them my card she says "Um...I think it's called blacking out." The other one says "It's not really blacking out, it's more like not paying attention. I mean, I kind of remember having a conversation with them, just not the details." Okay, I have blacked out only once in my life. (Actually, I was already in bed and someone called and I have no recollection of talking to them. I am not sure that counts. And, on a side note, I believe that if you make it to your bed before passing out you no longer have to call it passing out you can just call it sleeping. It's so much more dignified.) I don't pay attention all the time. And those two don't really seem like things that could be confused. Silly undergrads.
As a side note, number 3 resulted from me playing one of my favorite games. You eavesdrop, but on people who you are just passing by. I try very hard to listen for snippets of conversation of people walking by me. You'd be surprised how entertaining it is. Try it.
1. Walking to the gym I pass a Lutheran Church. In the window they have a 70s looking poster that says "Nothing can thwart God's path for you." Really? Nothing? How about not believing in God? Does he still have a path for those people? Is it well marked? I don't go to church so I might miss out on the more subtle signs. I need some big signs that say "Your path - this way" or else it is almost sure to be thwarted. I am now determined to find the path, thwart it, and move on.
2. I saw a young woman driving a Jeep Wrangler. On the front it says "It's a Jeep thing...You wouldn't understand." Oh, I don't know about that. Try me.
3. At the gym there are two young women checking id's. As I hand one of them my card she says "Um...I think it's called blacking out." The other one says "It's not really blacking out, it's more like not paying attention. I mean, I kind of remember having a conversation with them, just not the details." Okay, I have blacked out only once in my life. (Actually, I was already in bed and someone called and I have no recollection of talking to them. I am not sure that counts. And, on a side note, I believe that if you make it to your bed before passing out you no longer have to call it passing out you can just call it sleeping. It's so much more dignified.) I don't pay attention all the time. And those two don't really seem like things that could be confused. Silly undergrads.
As a side note, number 3 resulted from me playing one of my favorite games. You eavesdrop, but on people who you are just passing by. I try very hard to listen for snippets of conversation of people walking by me. You'd be surprised how entertaining it is. Try it.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
I'm crowded. Roll over.
Well, it's been a while since I posted here, but part of my excuse is that I was out of town last week on business. I was supposed to fly from Madison to Washington D.C. via Detroit. I arrive at the airport to see if one of the special seats that they only give out the day of the flight is available. The woman behind the counter dutifully checks her computer, and then reports there are no good seats. Whatever, I have a perfectly fine seat already. Then she asks me where I am going. When I tell her, she says "Oh, well it doesn't matter about the seats because you're going to miss your connection anyway." Now, if someone asked you about seats on the plane, don't you think you would mention that it was 2 hours late? So they transfer me to another airline, which was nice of them. I check in at the new place, and the guy says "You have seat 4A and 15C". Excellent. Those are good solid seats. Most importantly, neither of them is a middle seat. Then he realizes he's made a mistake, and he needs to reissue my passes. This takes a while. At the end he reports "Oh, well, now those other seats aren't available, so on your second flight you'll be in seat 23C." I immediately feel that my karma is bad, and know this is going to be a terrible trip. So, first class is the penthouse suite. 15C is a good, solid non-smoking king. 23E is a custodial closet in the basement. It's in the middle, which is bad. It's also in the back, which is bad because they put everyone who paid a cheap price for their ticket in the back. (I have no evidence on this, but how else can you explain making someone with three kids sit in row 30? And it happens all the time. Start paying attention. You will see that the back of the plane is an evil place.)
Now, before I get to the story of the flight in 23E, I have to tell a story about the bar where I had dinner in the Chicago airport. It was a standard airport bar, they served food. I enjoy having a beer before flying because it helps me sleep through the flight. There was a very unfriendly older hungarian bartender named Regina working at this place. I sit down, order a beer, she asks for my i.d. A normal enough interaction. A young woman comes and sits down, orders a Diet Coke, and she asks for her i.d. She explains that you need to be 21 to sit at the bar. Good enough. A guy old enough to be my dad sits down, doesn't order anything, and she asks for his i.d. Good lord. She is also generally surly and not very efficient, but she is keeping us entertained. We're kind of laughing about it, and she points at a sign that says "We I.D. 100%." This is not a good policy. I mean, really. The vast majority of people in bars in airports are light years away from being 21. Finally a guy old enough to be my grandfather comes over to the bar to get his wife a glass of wine. Regina needs to see her i.d. The guy says "You need i.d. from my wife who's 78?" Regina points at the sign. The guy leaves. No i.d., no wine. So, I know that airport bars probably aren't flooded with qualified applicants, but don't you think you could hire someone who has enough judgement that you don't need to make them i.d. a 78 year old? Work with me people.
So, I am getting on my flight. Two things instill fear in me when flying: fat people and babies. As I head to seat 23E, I get a glimpse of the gentleman in seat 23D. He's big and fat. He's so fat he can't put the armrest down. If you're so fat you can't put the armrest down (I need that slim piece of plastic and metal to protect my middle seat kingdom from invaders) you should have to buy two seats. My friend who watches Airline says on Southwest you do. Yay for Southwest. I make some joke about my seat and my big furry friend says "They should really have more options than just coach and first class." Yes, I thought. You should be able to pay extra to not have to sit in a middle seat next to a fat guy. I would definitely do it. Especially when traveling on business. So, we pull out of the gate, but then we sit on the tarmac for nearly an hour. It is about a billion degrees on the plane, and fat people sweat a lot. It was awful. Then this weird guy on the other side of me starts talking. He's in his fifties, some sort of retired military who is originally from Dallas but lives in DC. He really wants me to know he has a girlfriend. I really want him to know that I don't need to know anything about him. He keeps telling me he needs to call his girlfriend, that his girlfriend is coming to pick him up, blah blah blah. I start to wonder which sins I am being punished for, and contemplate whether this is actually worse than a sharp stick in the eye. not just in that casual off-handed "Better than a sharp stick in the eye!" kind of way, but in a real make a list of pros and cons to come to a good decision kind of way.
Since I am ranting about airlines, I would also like to say that I am really tired of being taken advantage of by people traveling with kids. Often I am traveling by myself, and if you are just one, young, single person you are kind of screwed. On a recent vacation I was traveling alone to meet family, and had just settled in to my lovely bulkhead window seat. This family gets on board. There is a husband, wife and one small child. The husband says to me "my wife and I weren't seated together, but I have the window seat on that side. Would you mind switching?" No problem. He looks at his boarding passes and says "it's seat 5B". That's not the window. Then he looks at me with fake shock and says "Oh, I guess we have two middles. Do you mind? I mean, she can sit here with our son if you don't want to move." Now I have two choices: 1) be a total asshole and say no, and then suffer the glare of them through the whole flight or 2) be punished for their lack of foresight in booking seats together, and sit in the middle. I take option 2, but this is not the first time. In fact, it happens all the time. So to all you people who want to travel with kids: buy seats for your kids if they are big enough to stand up, and book seats together. Assholes.
One more story about airlines. On my way home I was on a small commuter flight form my howetown to Detroit. Again it was hot on the plane, and the plane seriously loooked like it was from world war II. I understand that the job of stewardess on these flights is the equivalent of seat 23E, but hey: you have to earn your stripes. A woman gets on my flight with two kids in tow, both who are quite small and the older of who has Down's syndrome. The poor mom is struggling because neither child is really capable of getting on the plane by themselves. So she says to the stewardess "Is it okay if I sit in this empty row, rather than in the back of the plane?" The stewardess is very mean, and says "I am really not sure about seating, so go to the back of the plane." Despite my previous paragraph, I do think it's okay to be accommodating to kids. Don't do it in a way that makes me sacrifice a good seat for your shitty castoffs, but this plane is not even close to full, and it's tiny so the various seats don't matter as much. And there are no middle seats. So the mom says "Well, it would really be better up here, because sitting in the back makes him throw up." I think this is a compelling argument, and I am sure the people that are sitting in front of this woman do too. The stewardess says "Well, in these small planes it doesn't matter. Go sit in the back." Honestly, it was as mean as I have ever seen a stewardess, and I have seen some mean ass flight attendants. So then the lady in front of me tells the attendant that she cant' move her little air blower. The attendant says "Well, don't worry about it because the air's not on." The lady says she realizes the air isn't on, but she can't even move it. The attendant argues for a minute more, and then deigns herself to try to move it. With a considerable amount of effort gets the thing to move. She looks at the lady as if to say "See that, dumbass?", rolls her eyes and walks away. Now, if this is how you feel about customer service, I have one piece of advice for you: do not become a flight attendant. What was she thinking? That it was all about free trips to Paris? Anyone who flies knows that is a hard job, and most of us know it is one we don't want. Seriously. It is really all about customer service, and you should not be a flight attendant if you hate customers. A few other professions to stay away from: waitressing, telemarketing, and sales. I know I would suck at all of those things because I am not good at being nice to stupid people. But I think the number one thing on the job description for stewardesses is Be nice to stupid people. Number 2 might be Be very good at opening cans without chipping a nail.
Now, this post has gone on long enough, but there are just a couple more things. The first is that I saw a guy in the Madison airport wearing a camouflage t-shirt that says "Can you see me now?" Now THAT is funny. There was also a guy on my plane who had to be 90 years old wearing a shirt that said "I survived the Sky Scraper" which is apparently some amusement park ride somewhere in Wisconsin. This also cracked me up. Someone pointed out to me that this must be a pre-9/11 shirt, or else it was in poor taste. I still think it's funny. And it is extra funny that that is what he decided to wear while traveling. While waiting in the airport, I picked up a copy of USA Today Weekend magazine, a bastion of outstanding journalism. In the little q&a thing in the front they are talking about Matt Lauer's new show The Greatest American. Have you heard of this? Basically they list a whole mess of famous Americans, and try to decide who's the greatest. It includes obvious candidates such as Martin Luther King, Jr. and Thomas Jefferson, along with more dubious inclusions like Madonna and Oprah. Now, if they vote Madonna the greatest american, I seriously have to move to Canada. So there's a quote from Matt Lauer that says something like "Obviously Abraham Lincoln and MLK were both great individuals, but this is about trying to decide who's more important. These are the things my friends and I talk about." Oh, right. I am really supposed to believe that you sit around drinking brandy discussing the merits of different Americans? And, are we really so obsessed with competition that one person has to be the greatest? We wouldn't want to proud of a long and diverse history filled with interesting people. No sir. This is America, and we need to know who's best.
Also in USA magazine q&a was someone who wrote it saying "I really like the band Coldplay. Do you know when their new album is coming out?" Right. Like someone who likes Coldplay would really write a letter to find that out. Don't you have the internet? I am sure that if I dug deep I would find out that whatever label produces coldplay also owns USA Today (as well as a tiny part of my soul) but I would think that the publicists could come up with something a little bit hipper than that to advertise the release of a record.
okay. i'm done.
Now, before I get to the story of the flight in 23E, I have to tell a story about the bar where I had dinner in the Chicago airport. It was a standard airport bar, they served food. I enjoy having a beer before flying because it helps me sleep through the flight. There was a very unfriendly older hungarian bartender named Regina working at this place. I sit down, order a beer, she asks for my i.d. A normal enough interaction. A young woman comes and sits down, orders a Diet Coke, and she asks for her i.d. She explains that you need to be 21 to sit at the bar. Good enough. A guy old enough to be my dad sits down, doesn't order anything, and she asks for his i.d. Good lord. She is also generally surly and not very efficient, but she is keeping us entertained. We're kind of laughing about it, and she points at a sign that says "We I.D. 100%." This is not a good policy. I mean, really. The vast majority of people in bars in airports are light years away from being 21. Finally a guy old enough to be my grandfather comes over to the bar to get his wife a glass of wine. Regina needs to see her i.d. The guy says "You need i.d. from my wife who's 78?" Regina points at the sign. The guy leaves. No i.d., no wine. So, I know that airport bars probably aren't flooded with qualified applicants, but don't you think you could hire someone who has enough judgement that you don't need to make them i.d. a 78 year old? Work with me people.
So, I am getting on my flight. Two things instill fear in me when flying: fat people and babies. As I head to seat 23E, I get a glimpse of the gentleman in seat 23D. He's big and fat. He's so fat he can't put the armrest down. If you're so fat you can't put the armrest down (I need that slim piece of plastic and metal to protect my middle seat kingdom from invaders) you should have to buy two seats. My friend who watches Airline says on Southwest you do. Yay for Southwest. I make some joke about my seat and my big furry friend says "They should really have more options than just coach and first class." Yes, I thought. You should be able to pay extra to not have to sit in a middle seat next to a fat guy. I would definitely do it. Especially when traveling on business. So, we pull out of the gate, but then we sit on the tarmac for nearly an hour. It is about a billion degrees on the plane, and fat people sweat a lot. It was awful. Then this weird guy on the other side of me starts talking. He's in his fifties, some sort of retired military who is originally from Dallas but lives in DC. He really wants me to know he has a girlfriend. I really want him to know that I don't need to know anything about him. He keeps telling me he needs to call his girlfriend, that his girlfriend is coming to pick him up, blah blah blah. I start to wonder which sins I am being punished for, and contemplate whether this is actually worse than a sharp stick in the eye. not just in that casual off-handed "Better than a sharp stick in the eye!" kind of way, but in a real make a list of pros and cons to come to a good decision kind of way.
Since I am ranting about airlines, I would also like to say that I am really tired of being taken advantage of by people traveling with kids. Often I am traveling by myself, and if you are just one, young, single person you are kind of screwed. On a recent vacation I was traveling alone to meet family, and had just settled in to my lovely bulkhead window seat. This family gets on board. There is a husband, wife and one small child. The husband says to me "my wife and I weren't seated together, but I have the window seat on that side. Would you mind switching?" No problem. He looks at his boarding passes and says "it's seat 5B". That's not the window. Then he looks at me with fake shock and says "Oh, I guess we have two middles. Do you mind? I mean, she can sit here with our son if you don't want to move." Now I have two choices: 1) be a total asshole and say no, and then suffer the glare of them through the whole flight or 2) be punished for their lack of foresight in booking seats together, and sit in the middle. I take option 2, but this is not the first time. In fact, it happens all the time. So to all you people who want to travel with kids: buy seats for your kids if they are big enough to stand up, and book seats together. Assholes.
One more story about airlines. On my way home I was on a small commuter flight form my howetown to Detroit. Again it was hot on the plane, and the plane seriously loooked like it was from world war II. I understand that the job of stewardess on these flights is the equivalent of seat 23E, but hey: you have to earn your stripes. A woman gets on my flight with two kids in tow, both who are quite small and the older of who has Down's syndrome. The poor mom is struggling because neither child is really capable of getting on the plane by themselves. So she says to the stewardess "Is it okay if I sit in this empty row, rather than in the back of the plane?" The stewardess is very mean, and says "I am really not sure about seating, so go to the back of the plane." Despite my previous paragraph, I do think it's okay to be accommodating to kids. Don't do it in a way that makes me sacrifice a good seat for your shitty castoffs, but this plane is not even close to full, and it's tiny so the various seats don't matter as much. And there are no middle seats. So the mom says "Well, it would really be better up here, because sitting in the back makes him throw up." I think this is a compelling argument, and I am sure the people that are sitting in front of this woman do too. The stewardess says "Well, in these small planes it doesn't matter. Go sit in the back." Honestly, it was as mean as I have ever seen a stewardess, and I have seen some mean ass flight attendants. So then the lady in front of me tells the attendant that she cant' move her little air blower. The attendant says "Well, don't worry about it because the air's not on." The lady says she realizes the air isn't on, but she can't even move it. The attendant argues for a minute more, and then deigns herself to try to move it. With a considerable amount of effort gets the thing to move. She looks at the lady as if to say "See that, dumbass?", rolls her eyes and walks away. Now, if this is how you feel about customer service, I have one piece of advice for you: do not become a flight attendant. What was she thinking? That it was all about free trips to Paris? Anyone who flies knows that is a hard job, and most of us know it is one we don't want. Seriously. It is really all about customer service, and you should not be a flight attendant if you hate customers. A few other professions to stay away from: waitressing, telemarketing, and sales. I know I would suck at all of those things because I am not good at being nice to stupid people. But I think the number one thing on the job description for stewardesses is Be nice to stupid people. Number 2 might be Be very good at opening cans without chipping a nail.
Now, this post has gone on long enough, but there are just a couple more things. The first is that I saw a guy in the Madison airport wearing a camouflage t-shirt that says "Can you see me now?" Now THAT is funny. There was also a guy on my plane who had to be 90 years old wearing a shirt that said "I survived the Sky Scraper" which is apparently some amusement park ride somewhere in Wisconsin. This also cracked me up. Someone pointed out to me that this must be a pre-9/11 shirt, or else it was in poor taste. I still think it's funny. And it is extra funny that that is what he decided to wear while traveling. While waiting in the airport, I picked up a copy of USA Today Weekend magazine, a bastion of outstanding journalism. In the little q&a thing in the front they are talking about Matt Lauer's new show The Greatest American. Have you heard of this? Basically they list a whole mess of famous Americans, and try to decide who's the greatest. It includes obvious candidates such as Martin Luther King, Jr. and Thomas Jefferson, along with more dubious inclusions like Madonna and Oprah. Now, if they vote Madonna the greatest american, I seriously have to move to Canada. So there's a quote from Matt Lauer that says something like "Obviously Abraham Lincoln and MLK were both great individuals, but this is about trying to decide who's more important. These are the things my friends and I talk about." Oh, right. I am really supposed to believe that you sit around drinking brandy discussing the merits of different Americans? And, are we really so obsessed with competition that one person has to be the greatest? We wouldn't want to proud of a long and diverse history filled with interesting people. No sir. This is America, and we need to know who's best.
Also in USA magazine q&a was someone who wrote it saying "I really like the band Coldplay. Do you know when their new album is coming out?" Right. Like someone who likes Coldplay would really write a letter to find that out. Don't you have the internet? I am sure that if I dug deep I would find out that whatever label produces coldplay also owns USA Today (as well as a tiny part of my soul) but I would think that the publicists could come up with something a little bit hipper than that to advertise the release of a record.
okay. i'm done.
Monday, June 06, 2005
smashed dreams
A smash is like a crush, but it is not sexual. It is generally on someone of your same gender, though this is not a requirement. You know when you meet someone and you think they're great and you want to hang out with them and be their friend? (No? Whatever.) You have smash. It is common to have smash on celebrities - you see them on TV or in magazines, they seem fun, you want to be their friend. I totally have a smash on Jon Stewart. I just want to hang out and have beers with him.
Anyway, I used to have a smash on this singer named Neko Case. She has a fantastic voice and if you have never heard her then you should go out of your way to do so. The first time I saw her was at one of my all-time favorite concert venues : upstairs at the Middle East in Boston. She told funny stories and she sang nice songs and she seemed like a great person. And so started the smash. I bought her album, I listened to it a ton, and I waited for a chance to see another show. Just after we moved to Madison, we saw a poster that said she was coming to town. I was so happy. I felt like it was a sign that I would be happy in Madison, and I went to the show. It was a good show, and she was selling a cd that she made in her kitchen. She said she'd sign em. So we went over and bought it, and there she was, and I expected her to at least say hello but she just snatched the cd and signed it and acted totally bored. I felt like saying "You know you're not that famous, right? No one I know has heard of you." (In fairness this was several years ago and she's a little more famous but still.) She could have been a little nicer, a little happier that she had fans and was getting paid to play music.
A tangent: I think it is very important to be honest with yourself about how famous you are. There are few things more aggravating than when someone who is really quasi-famous acts like a total A-list asshole. I mean, if you're Harrison Ford, act like an asshole all you want. You are really famous. Ditto Michael Jordan. But don't be the salsa band that has guys from my high school in it. I talked to their booker about playing my wedding, and he sent me a two-page hospitality rider than included three kinds of beer and two kinds of hummus (!) Are you fucking kidding me? I don't think so, papi. It's not like you're the gypsy kings. Not surprisingly the booker called me up several months after I declined their charming offer to say they were still available and willing to "negotiate" on price. Assholes. I mean, even Tom Cruise who is super famous has found out that he can't get away with that crazy scientology talk and professing his love for a fifteen year old. People are starting to think he's weird.
Back to Neko. So, the cd encounter was disappointing and my smash was fading. We went to another show and all the funny stories were gone and she wasn't feeling well and the show was lame, and it faded further still. The other day there was an interview with her and I hoped to see some flash of the old neko with her funny stories and unwashed jeans and happy demeanor, but no. It was a boring, grumpy interview. I don't want to be her friend anymore. My smash is over. But her music is still good so listen to her anyway.
Anyway, I used to have a smash on this singer named Neko Case. She has a fantastic voice and if you have never heard her then you should go out of your way to do so. The first time I saw her was at one of my all-time favorite concert venues : upstairs at the Middle East in Boston. She told funny stories and she sang nice songs and she seemed like a great person. And so started the smash. I bought her album, I listened to it a ton, and I waited for a chance to see another show. Just after we moved to Madison, we saw a poster that said she was coming to town. I was so happy. I felt like it was a sign that I would be happy in Madison, and I went to the show. It was a good show, and she was selling a cd that she made in her kitchen. She said she'd sign em. So we went over and bought it, and there she was, and I expected her to at least say hello but she just snatched the cd and signed it and acted totally bored. I felt like saying "You know you're not that famous, right? No one I know has heard of you." (In fairness this was several years ago and she's a little more famous but still.) She could have been a little nicer, a little happier that she had fans and was getting paid to play music.
A tangent: I think it is very important to be honest with yourself about how famous you are. There are few things more aggravating than when someone who is really quasi-famous acts like a total A-list asshole. I mean, if you're Harrison Ford, act like an asshole all you want. You are really famous. Ditto Michael Jordan. But don't be the salsa band that has guys from my high school in it. I talked to their booker about playing my wedding, and he sent me a two-page hospitality rider than included three kinds of beer and two kinds of hummus (!) Are you fucking kidding me? I don't think so, papi. It's not like you're the gypsy kings. Not surprisingly the booker called me up several months after I declined their charming offer to say they were still available and willing to "negotiate" on price. Assholes. I mean, even Tom Cruise who is super famous has found out that he can't get away with that crazy scientology talk and professing his love for a fifteen year old. People are starting to think he's weird.
Back to Neko. So, the cd encounter was disappointing and my smash was fading. We went to another show and all the funny stories were gone and she wasn't feeling well and the show was lame, and it faded further still. The other day there was an interview with her and I hoped to see some flash of the old neko with her funny stories and unwashed jeans and happy demeanor, but no. It was a boring, grumpy interview. I don't want to be her friend anymore. My smash is over. But her music is still good so listen to her anyway.
oh, very attractive (etc)
as I was walking down the street returning from lunch today we came across a car. on the back winshield in what my boss described as a "distressingly brown" color was written the word poo. ew. now, I think they probably used a chocolate cupcake and not actual poo (there was some telltale white frosting on there) but it left me to think "what on earth would possess someone to do that?" if you know, please tell me.
speaking of things that people do that I don't like (it is a very very long list which I really won't get into here): spend too much time naked in the locker room. Now, I understand that locker rooms are inherently naked places. And that's okay. I mean, it's necessary to get from one set of clothes to another, or in and out of a bathing suit. showering should be done naked. but do you have to hang out naked? In the locker room at the campus gym, the young girls are never naked. nope, it's always the old ladies who come for aqua aerobics. and you know, I really didn't need to see them naked. as I choose which row of lockers I want, I have this moment of dread of what I will find lurking around the corner. The worst is old ladies bending over facing away from you. use your imagination.
I find that there are two schools of naked. Since everyone who does not wear the same clothes every day without bathing is naked sometimes, the real question is how long you stay naked, and what is on the list of appropriate activities to do while in such a state. In a locker room, these two camps become clearly identified. There are people like myself who try to get dressed as quickly as possible, and try to generally face the direction where you think you are least likely to come face to face with a fully clothed stranger (one of life's more uncomfortable naked moments). There are other people who will meticulously dry off, put on lotion, dry their hair, talk to their friends, and generally gallivant around before ever donning an article of clothing. To each their own, but I still wish I didn't have to see so many naked old ladies. Really.
Here's another little locker room debacle. I used to work out a gym that was only for women. Not surprisingly, there were a large number of lesbians at this gym. And inevitably there were a number of lesbian couples. The odd thing is one goal behind an all women's gym is to make it a non-threatening, non-sexual atmosphere. But there were a few very demonstrative couples, who were advertising their sexuality (though of course not having sex) in the locker room, where (as mentioned above) a lot of women were naked. Now, does this compromise the effect of the single-sex gym? I have to say that I, personally, feel less threatened by working out next to men most of whom are probably not interested in me than I do showering with a bunch of women who might be. call me crazy.
i've never
many many years ago in Ecuador I was playing a rousing game of "I've never" with a bunch of other underage drinkers. If you don't know the rules it goes like this: each person says something they've never done and if you have done it you drink. As with all drinking games the goal is to get people to drink as much as humanly possible, so you try to think of things that you haven't done that you think others have. At one point a woman walks in doing her best Carmen Miranda impersonation (in real life she probably did not have fruit on her head, but in my memory she certainly did) and my friend (whose turn it was) said "I've never worn an outfit quite like that". I think of this often, whenever I see a particularly unusual ensemble. Like the other day when my coworker, who is a tall not skinny woman, wore an aqua pantsuit. She looked like a giant easter egg. Or last night in the Whole Foods parking lot, where a chubby woman in her 50s in mirrored sunglasses was wearing a t-shirt that said :BoDeans Athletic Dept. It's funny enough that they even make such a t-shirt, but the fact that this lady saw it and thought - that would be perfect for me! is even funnier. I encourage you to start looking around, because at least once per day you will see someone wearing something hilarious. The all-time best was I was in a town in rural Bolivia and there was a woman sweeping off her steps in a t-shirt that read (in English) "I'd rather do it than watch it!" good times.
speaking of things that people do that I don't like (it is a very very long list which I really won't get into here): spend too much time naked in the locker room. Now, I understand that locker rooms are inherently naked places. And that's okay. I mean, it's necessary to get from one set of clothes to another, or in and out of a bathing suit. showering should be done naked. but do you have to hang out naked? In the locker room at the campus gym, the young girls are never naked. nope, it's always the old ladies who come for aqua aerobics. and you know, I really didn't need to see them naked. as I choose which row of lockers I want, I have this moment of dread of what I will find lurking around the corner. The worst is old ladies bending over facing away from you. use your imagination.
I find that there are two schools of naked. Since everyone who does not wear the same clothes every day without bathing is naked sometimes, the real question is how long you stay naked, and what is on the list of appropriate activities to do while in such a state. In a locker room, these two camps become clearly identified. There are people like myself who try to get dressed as quickly as possible, and try to generally face the direction where you think you are least likely to come face to face with a fully clothed stranger (one of life's more uncomfortable naked moments). There are other people who will meticulously dry off, put on lotion, dry their hair, talk to their friends, and generally gallivant around before ever donning an article of clothing. To each their own, but I still wish I didn't have to see so many naked old ladies. Really.
Here's another little locker room debacle. I used to work out a gym that was only for women. Not surprisingly, there were a large number of lesbians at this gym. And inevitably there were a number of lesbian couples. The odd thing is one goal behind an all women's gym is to make it a non-threatening, non-sexual atmosphere. But there were a few very demonstrative couples, who were advertising their sexuality (though of course not having sex) in the locker room, where (as mentioned above) a lot of women were naked. Now, does this compromise the effect of the single-sex gym? I have to say that I, personally, feel less threatened by working out next to men most of whom are probably not interested in me than I do showering with a bunch of women who might be. call me crazy.
i've never
many many years ago in Ecuador I was playing a rousing game of "I've never" with a bunch of other underage drinkers. If you don't know the rules it goes like this: each person says something they've never done and if you have done it you drink. As with all drinking games the goal is to get people to drink as much as humanly possible, so you try to think of things that you haven't done that you think others have. At one point a woman walks in doing her best Carmen Miranda impersonation (in real life she probably did not have fruit on her head, but in my memory she certainly did) and my friend (whose turn it was) said "I've never worn an outfit quite like that". I think of this often, whenever I see a particularly unusual ensemble. Like the other day when my coworker, who is a tall not skinny woman, wore an aqua pantsuit. She looked like a giant easter egg. Or last night in the Whole Foods parking lot, where a chubby woman in her 50s in mirrored sunglasses was wearing a t-shirt that said :BoDeans Athletic Dept. It's funny enough that they even make such a t-shirt, but the fact that this lady saw it and thought - that would be perfect for me! is even funnier. I encourage you to start looking around, because at least once per day you will see someone wearing something hilarious. The all-time best was I was in a town in rural Bolivia and there was a woman sweeping off her steps in a t-shirt that read (in English) "I'd rather do it than watch it!" good times.
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