Friday, June 25, 2010

Elevator Etiquette...a commentary on why your social awkwardness forces me to walk 17 flights of stairs

Hello. Good Morning. Thats a new song by P Diddy. Check it out its hot. In other news, helllllllo again! I took a week off because I was nervous about derby tryouts, but Im back. Hooray for you.

Many of you have ridden in an elevator. I will go out on a limb and say most of you. If you have, you will have noticed that an elevator is a special place, one with a certain set of rules and social mores that need to be observed and followed at all times. The reason for this, is that an elevator it literally a 8x4 foot rectangle without windows, where you are forced to stand in close proximity to people that you most likely dont know, or dont know well enough to want to be brushing elbows with. In what other social situation are you forced to do something this preposterous? None. Public transportation--bus or subway? Nope. There is more space, you can sit in seats, there are windows to look out of to ease the tension/the urge to stare at the person 3 inches away from you, and the ever important ability to bring your own personal distraction device: ipod, newspaper, cell phone--for games, not talking, book, or hey, you can even take a nap! But guess what? You cant do any of those things on an elevator. Why? Because unless you work in the Burj Khalifa, *Side Note: when you type in Worlds Tallest Building, the 3rd google image that pops up is of a lady with gamungo boobs. I dont know why* you will not have the time to partake in any of those distractions. An elevator does not allow you enough time to use the tools necessary to distance yourself from unwanted social interaction, but at the same time, the ride is usually just long enough to make you feel uncomfortable or to cause you to internally cringe 3-4 times based on whatever awkwardness you have been forced to partake in or observe.

Now,if you work in a normal place of business, you might not have any issues or problems with this elevator awkwardness. The elevator for you is simply a modern convenience that allows you easy and relatively fast access to different parts of your building. If you work in a place like I do, the elevator is a myriad of confusion, anxiety, and shame. Because of this, I have developed a simple set of rules that should always be followed when in an elevator. Begin.

1)No cell phone usage. If you are in an elevator full of people, please for the love of god get off your damn cell phone. I do not need to hear you discussing what you are going to have for dinner tonight with your spouse. I also dont want to hear whatever cool plans you think you have going on this weekend, as you casually glance my direction 17 times to see if Im listening to how cool you are. Im not. Stop it. And I really dont want to hear that the test results came back positive and that you really need to meet in person with whatever skeezebag you are on the line with. If you are alone in the elevator, and are on your phone, fine. Not a problem. If you started out alone, but on the ride down have picked up a few more travelers, politely tell whomever you are speakng to "hey Im on an elevator, will call you back in a few" Thats like a guilt free way out of any phone conversation. In fact, I sometimes use that if Im trying to watch Ghost Hunters and I cant get my grandma to stop telling me about how the neighbor's cat was run over by a car.

2) If, in your rush to get the hell out of the elevator as fast as possible, you accidentally get out on the wrong floor, please just get back in. We can all tell that you fucked up because you are looking around and blinking wildly like a newborn in the sun. Its obvious you made a mistake. We dont care. Mistakes happen. Just get back on the damn thing instead of, after 3 confusing seconds, pretending to walk to your destination on floor 5, that doesnt exist, because its really on floor 7. You arent fooling anyone cowboy.

3) If Im on the elevator alone, please dont feel the need to talk to me. We are both in here for one reason, and one reason only: to get somewhere else faster than walking. We arent here to make friends. This isnt kindergarten. Asking me about the weather or making a vague reference to a local news story does nothing but force me think of something nice/clever/funny to say in a timespan of 2 seconds. And I cant do that. Thats why I write. I have all the time in the world to appear clever and funny and smart. You forcing me to try and condense that into 15 seconds or less causes me to have a series of small seizures that you cant see, but that I know are there. And by the time we even get our little fake conversation rolling, the door has opened and one of us is awkwardly trying to walk away while hurriedly finishing the train of thought garbage that is still spewing from one of our mouths before the door shuts and we never see each other again. Was that really worth all the stress it just caused us both? No sir, no it was not.

4) In the elevators I frequent, the space is usually much wider than a normal elevator because I take the freight elevators because Im the coolest. Anyways, the extra space allows for people to stand facing each other, instead of the normal facing the doors stance. I dont know why, but even I do it too. It feels like you could run laps in the thing, so for some reason, the natural instinct is to lean back against the side and face inwards. This causes the inevitable staring phenomenon that 75% of elevator riders seem to partake in. Didnt we learn about this back in like 2nd grade? Its not polite to stare. Especially when the person you are staring at is 3 feet away and could tell that you are staring at them from every conceivable angle because the dimensions of this damn box are all still within the normal range of human peripheral vision. Lady. I can see you judgingly giving me the up and down. Im sorry my toenails are a mess. I realize my hair isnt in top form either, but really, you need to pretend to be playing with your phone or something because if that door doesnt open in 4 more seconds, you are going to be staring at my fist in your eye.

5)I work on the 6th floor. If I get in the elevator on the 6th floor and you get in on the 5th, and then hit the button for 4, you better have a fake leg or be losing your toes to diabetes, because you have just added 30 more seconds to this nightmare that I wouldnt have had to deal with if it wasnt for your sloth. One flight of stairs wont kill you. That scary dog with 2 legs that hops like a kangaroo does stairs. Ive seen it on youtube. If she can do it, you can too.

6) Please please please if you are carrying anything on your person that has a strong odor of any kind, please take the stairs. I dont care if you think it is something that smells good, ie your leftovers, a scented candle, your perfume.....because even though your ride may have only been two floors, the rest of us that use the elevator will have to smell your Chanel #5 for the rest of the god damn day. And by noon, that shit has been mixing will all the other people's smells and by the time I get on on 6:15, when those doors open, I hit a brick wall of BO and reheated Noodles & Company, and Axe, and I have to conscientiously hold back the vomit, and you really dont want me to add that smell to this mess either. So please, stair it.

7)If you see someone coming and the doors are just starting to shut, dont be an asshole, hit the door open button. I am constantly holding elevators for people, and constantly getting dirty looks from the other people already in the elevator with me. Oh Im sorry, I didnt realize you getting to you desk to start up the first round of solitaire was more important than common human decency.

7a)I think I take this viewpoint because I have had so many experiences of people not holding doors for me. Two especially memorable ones: One lady on the elevator, I see it starting to close, I do the "oh hey wait" smile and jog, annnd I watch her reach and hit the door close button. How do I know that was the button she pushed? Because freight elevators generally have doors on both sides, and because of this, have number pads on both sides. I watched her hit "Door close". Thanks. Second one, same scenario, except 3 ladies in the elevator, I jog up, grab the doors, and literally start doing a Superman trying to hold them open. Apparently the sensor that is supposed to stop doors from closing on people wasnt working because now I am stuck holding these doors so they dont shut on me, and instead of any of these women helping me hold the doors, or pushing the door open button, they all just stand there staring at me as the doors get closer and closer to crushing me to death. Nice. Thanks again.

And 8) Why is every elevator I have ever ridden in named OTIS? That is just silly. Plus, Im pretty sure that means the elevator market is a monopoly. Why isnt anyone doing anything about this??

And Im spent. Have a good weekend. And go check out PRIDE Parade this Sunday!!

Friday, June 11, 2010

Why John Mayer is a Douche Bag

Happy Friday my lovelies. It is currently pouring rain in the suburb I inhabit, so on par with Minnesota weeks in the summer, this downpour means that it will be shitty and raining all weekend, and sunny and glorious come Monday when we all go back to work. Hooray!

Remember John Mayer? Hes that guy that makes really weird faces when he sings for no apparent reason. I think he came on the scene back in like 2000. I used to enjoy his music. Room for Squares & Heavier Things both have a fair number of decent tracks on them. And aside from the weird faces, he didn't seem like such a bad dude.

But, then he went ahead and wrote "Who Says". And now I hate him. Its a song about John sticking it to The Man, man, and explaining how he can smoke pot if he wants to. When asked about the drug reference in the song, John has said: "When I sing it, I do not think about marijuana — I think about walking around your house naked with a guitar. It's about being in control of the pleasure in your life." Ummm...wait, what? If you are going to write a song about standing up for your beliefs, probably the worst thing you can do to discredit yourself is immediately denying what you wrote the damn song about in the first place!!! Its not about pot John, really?? So you're saying that you call being a creeper and walking around the house naked with an instrument "getting stoned"? I hate people. Oh & he used the N word in a Rolling Stone article claiming he was trying to be "ironic", but that's for a different posting.

So to prove to you what a douche he is, I'm going to dissect the lyrics of 'Who Says' line by line. *Side Note: If you haven't ever heard this song, type it in on Google, and the first thing that pops up should be the ILike link that you can listen to for free. And, begin:


1st Verse
"Who says I can't get stoned"---technically no one. You just cant get stoned and get caught. Or get caught with more than an eighth on your person at one time. Wow John, you are like, so progressive and radical. Wait, what...where are you from again? Bridgeport,Connecticut? Lots of free thinkers and working class there. Yeah. You tell The Man that he cant tell you what to do John. Yeah. Tell Him. PS-I think "The Man" is probably your dad.

"Turn off the lights and the telephone"--really? He obviously isn't getting stoned then. That shit would be scary. Turning off the lights. Fuck that.

"Me in my house alone"--Again? hello? Scary.

Who says I can't get stoned"--If I repeat it, people will think Im super radical and cool!



2nd Verse
"Who says I can't be free"--Al-Qaeda

"From all of the things that I used to be"--like a rich, spoiled poser? Nope, try again, still there. No matter how many tattoos you get on your forearms.

"Rewrite my history"--Im sure you want to. I would too. But until we successfully construct a time machine, you have to deal with your past like the rest of us. By repressing it and letting it come out in random angry rageful bursts...that occur most frequently on Friday mornings.

"Who says I can't be free"--repeating lyrics again? Now you are just being lazy John. I bet that's from all the pot you weren't smoking as you wrote this.



3rd verse
"It's been a long night in New York City"--in your swank penthouse suite? I doubt it.

"It's been a long night in Baton Rouge"--wait you have 2 houses? Im confused. Where are you?

"I don't remember you looking any better"--thats actually kind of nice. Thank you.

"But then again I don't remember you"---annnnnd you ruined it. Just when I think that maybe you arent a complete dick, you had to go and tell me that you dont, in fact, remember who I am. Im inclined to believe that John is trying to insinuate that he gets so much ass, he cant keep all the women in his life straight. The fact that he needs to tell us that, leads to another fact, that he probably has a small penis.



4th verse
"Who says I can't get stoned"--Jesus we get it already, you like pot. We think you're cool. Please stop trying so hard.

"Call up a girl that I used to know"--ok, that sounds not too bad.

"Fake love for an hour or so"--and again, you ruined it. So you're going to call an ex and 'pretend' to like her and care about whats going on in her life during an hour long phone convo?? Apparently rich people dont need to worry about prime time minutes. And are you that bored and lonely that you find amusement in confusing Jessica Simpson more than she is already confused? Thats like pretending to throw a ball for a dog, and watching it search around and get all excited while you hold the damn thing next to your leg.

"Who says I can't get stoned"--I refuse to comment on this line anymore.



5th verse
"Who says I can't take time"--you are a musician. You get to rock and roll all night and party every day. And if your PR rep told you you had to do something you didnt want to, you would just fire her and get a new one anyway. Acting like you dont get to do whatever you want, whenever you want, is an insult to my intelligence sir.

"Meet all the girls in the county line"--woah woah woah. Wait a damn minute. You spend your free time hanging out at the welfare office? I work at one John. I have never seen you, or anyone else even close to famous there. Dont pretend that you are so down to earth that you go talk to/hang out with poor people in your free time. You dont. If you came into my office you would probably shit your pants.

"Wait on fate to send a sign"--I have no idea what this means in this context. Neither does John. The words had the right iambic pentameter, and rhymed so he threw them in for good measure.

"Who says I can't take time"--At this point in the song I'm hitting my head against a wall in the hopes that I pass out. And quiet you. Yes I could change the station, but then I wouldn't have anything to bitch about and you wouldn't have anything to read on Friday mornings, so lets just agree to disagree.



6th verse
"It's been a long night in New York City"--you already said that

"It's been a long night in Austin too"--wait so you actually have 3 houses?

"I don't remember you looking any better"--I know where this is going. Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice...

"But then again I don't remember you"--Thanks. No one would remember your goofy ass either if you didnt have friends in high places. And for god's sake open your damn eyelids. Walking around looking stoned all the time isnt cool anymore. But wait, thats right,you dont in fact smoke pot, you just write about smoking pot.



7th verse
"Who says I can't get stoned"

"Plan a trip to Japan alone"--Japan? Really? That would take a lot of time and money and researching to end up going alone. Wouldn't you be scared? I would be. But wait, that's right, you are so independent and mysterious that you don't even need someone else to fly across the globe with you. You do what you want. Aint no bitches holding you down.

"Doesn't matter if I even go"--Oh My God. Must be nice to spend all that money on a trip to Japan, and then be so rich that you can decide at the last minute that, ehhh, I don't really feel up to a Japan trip today. Maybe some other time. But you hang out with poor people so that makes up for it.


"Who says I can't get stoned"


8th verse
"It's been a long night in New York City"--again??? Try harder you ass. You get paid to write for a living. I would kill for your job, and all you can think to say is "it's been a long night in NYC 3 times?"

"It's been a long time since 22"--I cant argue this one. Time does speed up as you get older. This is the only genuine lyric in this entire travesty of a song.

"I don't remember you looking any better
But then again I don't remember you"----and what better way to round off a terrible song than by repeating something mean you have said 3 times already.



And now you know. Have a lovely weekend & see you next Friday. Seacrest out.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

************FUCK YOU BP*****************

Its Tuesday night, but I'm fired up about this, so it can't wait till Friday. I promise Friday's post will be back to pointless observations and repressed anger.

Today marks the 50th day since a BP oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico, the Deepwater Horizon, exploded, causing 11 deaths, 17 injuries and a massive hole in an underwater wellhead to gush an estimated 100,000 barrels (4,200,000 US gallons) A DAY into the Gulf water and its surrounding shores. Clean up attempts by BP have been embarrassing at best, with no genuine concern or urgency in the face of what marine biologists and economic analysts are calling an "ecological and economic disaster whose long term effects will take decades to play out in full". Decades. Thats absolutely insane.

BP's main focus, no surprise here, seems to be maintaining a safe bottom line and ensuring the shareholders aren't completely shitting their pants, while feigning enough interest and activity to not be deemed complete assholes and haters of Mother Earth. The only thing BP CEO Tony Hayward seems to be good at is propagating ridiculously insensitive and unintelligent misinformation. A few of his recent gems:

1)"We're sorry for the massive disruption it's caused to their lives," Hayward said. "There's no one who wants this thing over more than I do, I'd like my life back"
2)"The oil is on the surface," Hayward said. "There aren't any plumes."-This is a lie
3)"I think the environmental impact of this disaster is likely to have been very, very modest"
4)And my favorite, an excerpt from an address to the Stanford University Graduate School of Business, on 12 May, 2009. In it he talks about how the culture at BP needed to change by saying:

"We had too many people working to save the world..."

I know you are all smart enough to not buy the bullshit BP and its executives are trying to feed the American public and the world. The Gulf, all it's inhabitants--humans, fish, dolphins, seabirds, whales, coral, krill, seaweed, shrimp, sharks etc, the biology of the ocean, the surrounding affected coastline, the tourism trade, the fishing trade, and anyone who is unfortunate enough to have to witness their homes and the places they love being destroyed, are all very real. No matter how far removed you may be from the actual problem.



So, what can you do?

* Do not purchase gas or any other products from BP gas stations

* Find legitimate businesses and people to donate to in and around the Gulf, if donating $$$ is your thing. Do not assume that your donation to NWF will go directly to the people and areas in most need. Talk to any friends or family that live in the affected areas to find local businesses or grass roots organizations you can cut a check to.

* On a related note, if you want to donate your time, again, find grass roots organizations and local businesses to help. You will be making an immediate difference.

* Do not purchase BP stock in the hopes of making a profit once the dust settles and you bought all your shares for $2 a piece... aren't you clever?! I shouldn't even have to tell you how big of a douche bag doing this makes a person, but I will: Don't do it. You are a parasite if you do, and deserve whatever Karmic equivalent comes flying your way.

*Talk to your senators about passing legislation that works towards cleaner and safer energy options. Send emails, write letters, make phone calls. (You can find out how to contact your state senators on any search engine.)

* Don't forget. This thing is going to be playing out for years. It is so easy to forget about it once it stops making the nightly news, but try hard not to. Help dispel misinformation and help keep this in the forefront of everyone's minds.



I'll leave you with some images to look through. Its harder to turn a blind eye after witnessing pictures from the front lines.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/04/30/louisiana-oil-spill-2010_n_558287.html

Friday, June 4, 2010

Things I Love and Things I Hate...aka Literary Stand Up

Goood Morning readers. Im rusty from taking a week off, so to get myself back into the swing of things, Im coping out and doing this post in list format. At least it will be easier to read than my usual string of run-on-sentences. Plus now there will be physical proof that I actually do like things, hooray!

Love: When dogs spin in 7 circles before they lay down. Im guessing it stems from a time when dogs were wild and freely roamed the forests, and spinning helped them mat down the tall grasses to make sleep easier. Nowadays, spinning around in 15 circles before you lay down on the 1 inch high carpeting does nothing but make me laugh. Thank you dogs.

Hate: The asshole who decided vacuum sealing every yogurt cup, fruit cup, and fast food dipping sauce was a good idea. I really love trying to open one and immediately getting half of said food product all over the table or my hand or my car seat. Same goes for Kool Aid Bursts. Sweet! Now I have Kool Aid all over my crappy Formica counter top...that shit stains instantly....and I wont be able to sell this house ever without redoing the entire kitchen first because there are vague pinkish blotches all over the damn counter. Dont judge me. I can be 26 and still enjoy Kool Aid Bursts frequently enough for them to destroy the entire value of my kitchen.

Love: To quote the noble and heroic Kevin McCallister: "A lovely cheese pizza, just for me." There really is something magical about getting a delicious cheese pizza all to yourself. I would take one over a genuine D&G handbag any day. HA like there was even any question.

Hate: The fact that I kind of like Justin Bieber. I dont know what else to say. I have no excuse. Let the stoning begin.

Love: Those commercials for Liberty Mutual where people are helping each other. Like the lady pushes that dude's coffee cup away from the edge of the table, and that guy picks up a shoe that fell off a baby and hands it to the mother. They get me every time.

Hate: How come a fly, on a one in a million chance, can find its way into my house, but can not find its way back out again? In the summer months, we leave our sliding glass door open. But we dont have a screen door anymore to go with it. Because we are classy. Inevitably, this allows flying insects entrance into our home. And every time I see one, if its not buzzing around, it will be sitting on the glass of the sliding door, inches from freedom, walking back and forth, up and down looking for a way out. Dude. You are literally less than 6 inches away from the way you got in here in the first place. Cant you feel the breeze, or sense an open area to your right? So lame.

Love: Sleeping in a cold room under a huge down comforter. Really, is there anything better? Its so empowering. Take that cold. You think you can get to me, but you cant. Because Im under here, and its all snugly and warm and I dont even care that you're making my face cold because Im so warm everywhere else it doesnt even matter.

Hate: Paper cuts. But not even because they themselves suck. Because every time I get one, I think of how much I dont ever want to get stabbed. And then I get all freaked out and hope to God that if I ever get kidnapped the psycho will have the common decency to strangle me with his shoelace instead of stabbing me 78 times with a steak knife.

Love: Waking up sore the next day after doing something physically taxing the day before. Why? Because its proof man. Oh, yeah? You think Im a load of crap because I dont run 17 miles every weekend for fun? Well, my legs are killing me from walking that 5K yesterday, so you just shut your mouth buddy. Im important. My office smells of rich mahogany.

Hate: That instant at work when you realize that you are going to do nothing productive for the rest of the day. It can come at any time. If you are lucky, it wont hit until 3:30-4. If you are me, it usually sets in around 9:45. Cool. I only have 7 more hours to kill. Who can I go bother for the next 30 minutes? Wait, Im pretty sure they added a new Doritos flavor to the vending machine up on 9. Yeah. Thats what I'll go do. Yeah.

Love: Getting in the car and turning on the radio to that new song you really dig that you have only heard once or twice before. Its like puppy love. You guys just met, you are still all googly eyed over each other. In 7 weeks after Clear channel has decided to whore it out and you cant go 14 minutes without hearing it, the newness and excitement will wear off and you will eventually dispose of it for newer, less irritating options. But those first few times are just magic.

Hate: Peanut Brittle. Seriously? This isnt the 1800s. No one eats this shit anymore. And all the people that do will be dead in the next 5-15 years anyways. Close down all the Peanut Brittle factories. They are a drain on the economy. I heard they might even have played a small part in that current mess on Wall Street.

*Side Note: I could go on like this forever. But you are prob sick of reading by now. So I will end on a positive.

Love: You guys. Seriously thanks for reading. Have a great weekend shorties.