The One with the End of an Era

I was going to call this one either "The One with a Fall From Grace" or "The One with the End of a Love Affair" or "The One Where I Lose the Love," and then I realized that both of those would make it sound like I was on either side of some kind of extramarital affair or getting a divorce or something, which I'm not.

When I wrote this post, I meant everything I said.  Everything about the love I've always had for everything in the Jane Pratt universe, and how Jane magazine was the raison d'être for most of my adolesence and childhood.  How I looked up to Jane, and how it was my absolute biggest dream to be able to work for her.

You know how, at some point, you realize your parents aren't perfect?  You realize they're not perfect, and it's so effing disappointing?

The last two days have been like that for me.

You might accuse me of being melodramatic, and that's cool, but the xoJane community was like. . .my people.  Smart, snarky people with opinions beyond "OMG, I totes need the new Marc Jacobs bag or I'll, like, LITERALLY DIE."  It is the damn hardest thing in the world for me to make friends, so when I find a community, whether online or in the 3-D world, that I can connect with, it's huge.  And I had that.  But I don't think I do anymore.

Without getting into the logistics of all of it, I think it all boils down to the fact that I've realized that Jane herself. . .doesn't really care.  She cares about the money, and she cares about the clicks, but she doesn't much care about the community of people that, for the most part, were brought together because of the common interest of Jane or Jane's big sister, Sassy. 

She has always been known for her celebrity name-dropping (Did you know she's former lovers/ currentBFF with Michael Stipe?  And that she slept with Drew Barrymore?  And that she's also BFF with Courteney Cox?  We all know.  Because she talks about it ad nauseum.)  but apparently, that also bleeds over into the not-so-celebrity people, the chosen few that are part of the in-crowd.  The ones that get fawned over and acknowledged like they were real-life best friends.

Am I jealous?  That this woman I've looked up to for literally more than half my life won't respond to my (obviously hilarious) life observations and (thoughtful) questions?  A little, yeah.  But it's so much more than that.

I can't have respect for someone who looks the other way while her beauty director and "health critic" gets herself so wasted on drugs every night she writes long, rambling diatribes about her "rock and roll" lifestyle (with a beauty product recommendation thrown in for good measure at the end) and who, after the aforementioned BD/HC quits (Yeah, quits.  Wasn't fired.  Quits to write for the Vice website.) hires a new Beauty Editor that her readers and commenters literally, literally BEGGED her to not hire, for a miriad of very valid reasons.  And when she hired her instead, just basically said, "I love her and you need to be nice!" without addressing any of the reason why the readers, the REASON for such a site, were so against it.

I'm tired of the constant tearing-down in the comments section and the authors' own Twitter feeds.    I'm tired of being a part of a community where, a year ago, I felt like I was an active part of and that I was being heard as a person, and now, I'm just not.  It doesn't help that Disqus has added a "downvote" option and that it's anonymous.  People are just mean.  I think facebook has been correct in not adding the "Dislike" option.  That would get really ugly really fast.

So I'm quitting.  I'm throwing in the towel.  At the very least, I'm taking a hiatus.  Maybe I'll be back.  If I see Daisy Barringer tweet that she's written something, I'll probably read it, but avoid the comments section.  There's enough negativity in the world, and I'm working hard enough to keep it out of my own life.  It's hard, you guys.  I'm not naturally a glass-half-full kind of gal, but I've legitimately been trying harder to not. . .drink the Haterade.

Maybe you're reading this and thinking, "Damn, Sarah.  You're too sensitive.  You're making a big deal out of nothing."  Maybe that's your opinion, and that's cool.  For me, it's like I've just lost my best elementary school friend.  It's just not fun anymore.

I guess this means I'm going to need to find real-life people to talk to now.  God help us all.

The One With the Insensitive Manager

I did not complete my month-long picture project. I think you all probably guessed that would happen. Sorry. You shouldn't believe me. I lie, it seems.

D and I were at a grocery store near our house last night. It's a mid-price grocery store (WHY don't I live within walking distance of an Aldi's??), but we can walk there without much effort, so that's where we generally go.

We were checking out (ready to go home and have our Super-Healthy-Fruit-Veggie-Cheese-Wheat Thin Dinner Extravaganza) when I heard one of the night managers talking to the little bagger girl.

"If you don't stop eating so much sugar," he said, loudly, "you're going to get diabetes. You'll go blind in one eye, and one of your legs will have to be chopped off."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Um, what?

Not only is that NOT HOW YOU GET DIABETES, but the type of diabetes that is more toward the lifestyle side of things is 90% of diabetics. The other lucky 10%, myself included, get it because, uh, our autoimmune systems spontaneously decide to say, "ATTACK THE PANCREAS!"


My immediate thought was to go over to the guy (who was a manager, of all people. Someone who should know better), grab him by his polo-shirt collar, throw him up against the wall and yell, "Why don't you SHUT YOUR WHORE MOUTH about things you KNOW NOTHING ABOUT, you effing DOUCHENOZZLE?!"

Then I figured, well, it's better to tell his manager. Because if I yell at him, HE will know he did something wrong, but he will likely not care. But if his manager is aware he did something wrong, she will speak to him, and possibly his co-workers would all be like, "Oooooh, you're in trooooubllllleeeeee."

Note: "Trouble" is a difficult word to elongate.)

D went up there and spoke to the manager in order to find out Douchenozzle's name, and then I gave her a call. She was very nice, very apologetic, and very horrified when I told her what they guy had said.

I sort of wanted to see him get fired, but that was just my bum pancreas talking.

I stayed irritated for hours after we left, and I was irritated when I woke up.

If you're diabetic, you're allowed to tell diabetic jokes. You're allowed to talk about how you could get your foot chopped off, or how you could go blind, or whatever. You're allowed to say things that are ridiculous and untrue about your own disease. Humor is a coping mechanism.

We diabetics (and I'm going to make this statement even smaller and say we Type 1s) deal with this bullshit every day. When I wake up, I'm strapped to an insulin pump. If I weren't strapped to a pump, I'd need to take injections. I have to stick my fingers multiple times daily. I have to count carbohydrates in what I eat to know how much insulin to take. Most people's pancreases do that for them. Mine decided it had a better job offer.

It would be like telling a cancer survivor a cancer joke. Or making one of those ubiquitous Dead Baby Jokes to someone who's had 5 miscarriages and is going through those hormone therapies. It's. . .not funny. You don't know what the hell you're talking about. As soon as you've had your blood sugar climb toward 600 because your pump isn't working or you wake up disoriented, having lost hours of your day due to low blood sugar you didn't even know you had, THEN you can talk about going blind and cutting your feet off.

There's a fine line, I think. On one of the blogs I read, the author made a diabetes-related joke that I actually thought was pretty funny. The deal there is, if you go to this particular blog, you need to prepare yourself for irreverance and possibly being insulted.

But I don't go to the grocery store thinking I'm going to be insulted and joked about.

And then I got to thinking. I was diagnosed in October of 1989. I was 4. I have to wonder how that guy would feel if he knew that a newly-diagnoses 4-year-old had heard what he said and spent the next week and a half crying every night before going to bed, maybe even IN bed, because she thinks she's going to go blind or lose one of her legs. How funny is THAT, Mr. Comedian?

It's people you don't know, it's people you do know. . .no one really knows how this effects people like me. My college best friend told a friend of his once that he was getting tired of how dramatic I was being about the whole diabetes thing, how I was doing stuff to get attention. (This was after I woke up at 4 in the afternoon, in the shower, not knowing how I'd gotten there or what else I'd done that day.) No one gets it, but that doesn't mean you have to air your ignorance in public.

I don't care about the parents of diabetics who get all up in arms offended about every little thing. I care about that little kid who may not quite realize yet that this is forever. It's not a death sentence, but they're taking it with them to the end. I have an aunt that died, most likely, from complications from Type 1. I'm on my 22nd anniversary this year and have thus far avoided the macular degeneration that generally begins around the 20th year. I'm grateful for that.

But I'd love to take Mr. DoucheComedian and put a small, ticking time bomb inside of him. He doesn't know when it's going to go off (if it goes off at all) and he doesn't know what'll happen when it does go off. . .how bad the damage will be or whatever. He just knows it's there, and there's nothing he can do about it.

And then I'll go make jokes about it. Not TO him, but near him, so he can go home and think about his bomb, and other people's perceptions of his bomb. I'd like him to have a bomb that is similar in name to another type of bomb, but to have few people know the difference, so they're constantly telling him how to deal with his bomb, and how he could have prevented his bomb, and the like. Like they know ANYTHING about his bomb.

OK, now I'm rambling, so I'll stop. I'm sorry.

Don't joke about or talk about things you literally know nothing about. It makes you look bad, and makes me not want to shop at your store anymore.

That's all.

The One Where the Internet is Ruining the World

I'm fairly certain the Internet is what is causing the downfall of civilization as we know it.

That might be an odd thing for someone like me to say, considering I have a blog (a couple blogs, actually), I get most of my recipes online, I read news online, and I have a certain love affair with Google.

But watching people these days, just the way people are makes me feel like if not for the massive amount of online time and information you can find online, we'd be a lot better off.

I offer the following examples:

Example 1: Everyone is so damn hateful.

Granted, there have been mean people since the beginning of time. The Internet, however, and the anonymity offered therein, have made it almost impossible to consider our current culture as anything but a bunch of bullies.

I mostly blame the comment sections on news stories. Any Joe Shmo with computer access and an e-mail address (sometimes not even an e-mail address) can comment on anything. And most of the time, the comments aren't even relevant. A story about Amy Winehouse's death will have a, "SEE, DIS IS WHA HAPINS BECUZ OBBAMA'S DA PREZ." A story about Casey Anthony and how she killed her daughter and got away with it will have a, "Woohoo! WHAT A HOTTIE. I'd like to GET WITH THAT!" Any story in the world will have something about how Democrats/Republicans are the reason the country is in such bad shape.

People are able to be anonymous, so that makes them feel they have the right to say whatever they want.

I think in order to fix it, we need to require anyone who's going to post anything anywhere to include their photograph and home phone number. Then we'll see what people have to say.

Example 2: The Internet makes people think they know everything.

Blame Wikipedia. Blame WebMD. Everyone now thinks they know everything about everything. It doesn't make any difference that a lot of stuff is posted by people who also don't know anything about anything. Even now, people take things they see on the Internet as being the Gospel Truth.

People tell their doctors that the diagnosis is wrong, because they read on WebMD that it has to be something else. People get lame forwards of urban legends, and then suddenly, they're telling everyone and their mother that Oh my GOD, you guys, if you don't put your porch light on from 7:14 p.m. t0 8:57 p.m. next Wednesday, you are UN-AMERICAN.

And if you tell someone who learned something online that they're wrong? God save you.

Patron: I should be able to check out these books by using this iPhone app that has my library card barcode in it. I read it online.
Me: Well, unfortunately, we don't have the capabilities to. . .
Patron: But I READ IT ONLINE! YOU CAN DO IT!
Me: Yes, it IS technology that's currently available, but our county doesn't yet have the equipment that you need to be able to. . .
Patron: You are CLEARLY AN IDIOT. It said ONLINE that I can check out books WITH MY PHONE.

It doesn't matter that he read an article in the New York Times about how the New York Public Library is doing that now. He read it online, and that makes it fact. How dare you argue?

Which brings me to. . .

Example 3: The Internet is making everyone stupid.

Technology is a good thing. We've made amazing advances in the last 30 years to get us to where we are today. You can use your cell phone to make a dinner reservation, call your wife to tell her to meet you at the restaurant, and program your DVR to record the TV shows you'll miss while you're out to dinner. You can do all of that.

But you can't spell, and when you text your wife to remind her to wear the red dress you like so much to dinner, it comes out, "Wear ur RED DRESS 2 dinner."

I'm not entirely sure when it became acceptable to say "2" instead of "to" or "ur" instead of "your," but all it's going to do is cause kids to not be able to spell. All you need to do is glance at, let's say, a 7-year-old's text they're sending, and you can see it's already something of an epidemic.

(That is to say nothing of how young kids are when they get their own phone these days. If you want my opinion, if you're younger than 13, you have no need for a cell phone that does anything but call your parents, and maybe one other pre-programmed number. It's completely unnecessary. You don't need to text anyone. You don't need to call anyone. But that's just me.)

(My kids are going to HATE ME.)

No one cares about spelling and grammar anymore. No one cares they sound like a bunch of idiots, because most people are a bunch of idiots.

D was driving a bunch of 20-somethings home in the cab to a bar the other night, and one of them was giving the other a hard time for using "ur." Good for him. I want to be friends with that guy, maybe buy him a beer.

I'm just sad that it's now cool to be dumb. That's all there is to it. Dumbness is so mainstream, it's now the smart people, the people who use the proper versions of there, their or they're, and the people who take the extra half-second to spell out "your" that are the weird ones.

All of that being said, yeah. I'm convinced that the Internet and the fact that everyone has access to it is part of the reason we're in the shape we're in now. Unfortunately, I don't think it's going to get any better any time soon.

The One Where I Am Maybe Unnecessarily Hateful

I have figured out what I'm going to do with my life.

I am going to continue working at the library, because obviously, it's a badass job, and come summer, I'm going to enroll in the technical college here and get my Associate's in Baking and Pastry Arts.

Sarah's gonna be a pastry chef, y'all.

I've been saying this for. . .a while now, but I'm putting it into black and white on October 25, 2010, so that in a few months, if I haven't said anything else about it, you can be like, "Um, Sarah? Lies."

The main thing I need to figure out is the money. Clearly, I have none. I need to go by the school and find out about financial aid, etc. But I'm DOING IT.

Today at work, people were working my nerves. This happened yesterday, too, but today could have had something to do with the fact that my boss brought in this bundt cake for the birthdays in October, one of which is mine.

(By the way, while I'm thinking about it. . .I'll be doing a French Fridays with Dorie this week! I know I've been remiss since that first week, but my excuse is that the things chosen for weeks were, A) something I didn't want to eat or B) something with expensive ingredients I could not afford at the time. But since this week's recipe is a cake [Awww, yeah!] and all I need to purchase is apples, we're on for Friday.)

(OH! Another by-the-way, speaking of baking, Katie's 19th birthday was on Friday, and when I'd asked her what kind of cake she wanted, she said she wanted a dinosaur-themed cake. So this was her cake, enjoyed by my family last Saturday:

I KNOW, RIGHT?! Awesome. Also, in case you were wondering, and I know you were, those are indeed milk chocolate rocks at the bottom. WIN!)

OK, where was I? Ah yes. The October Birthdays Bundt Cake. I got super busy at work this evening, and by the time I got to the back to enjoy some of the cake, it was gone.

GONE.

My name was one of the ones on the little October Birthdays sign, and I didn't get any cake.

So that bothered me. Maybe you'll say it bothered me more than it should have, but then I'd tell you to SHUT YOUR WHORE MOUTH. It bothered me. So I was a bit moody.

What I should explain about the library is that different librarians deal with different Problem Patrons (PPs) differently. If a PP doesn't have their library card, some librarians will ask them for their name, others will ask for their photo ID, and still others will give them kind of a hard time while asking for their name AND ID. (I ask for a driver's license, if you're wondering.) Stuff like that. There are guidelines in place, yes, but if you mess with the wrong librarian on the wrong day, it's going to be a lot different than if you are sincerely apologetic for leaving your card at home and are nice, and you do not think we OWE you something.

So this kid comes up to me and has like $38 of fines on his card because two of his books are "long overdue" and when that happens, the system adds in the price it would cost to replace the book. He asked me how many books he could check out on his card. I said there's no limit, and he was like, "No, THIS card."

After I saw the fines, I explained to him that the system said I should not let him check them out, due to the fines, but how many he could check out would really depend on which librarian he got. I let him check one out. Nice, right?

Then. This lady waddles up to the desk. I say waddles not because I'm being mean or cruel or whatever, but she was one of those ladies that is approximately as wide as she is tall.

She hands me her card, all surly. I scanned it, and she had $48 dollars of combined fines and lost books dating back to 2008.

I say, "Um, this card has $10 of fines on it, and $38 dollars of book replacement charges."

(There's also a note in the system indicating she is "aware" of the charges.)

She glares at me and says, "Yeah?"

I said, "The system is indicating that you need to clear some of those fines before you can check out anymore books."

She glared at me again. "I ain't got no money with me."

(I'm thinking, "You've had two years to have some money with you.")

I said, "Well, I'm not able to check anything out until some of these fines are cleared."

Now. . .this is not ENTIRELY true. I have the ability to override the system message and check stuff out despite the fines. But this woman's attitude rubbed me entirely the wrong way. If you're going to use a place that has rules, you need to FOLLOW THE DAMN RULES.

She looked at me, confused and irritated, and didn't say anything. I'm guessing this is the part where, in the past, people have said to her, "Oh, OK. I'll take care of it for you this time. Just make sure you bring the money next time you come in!"

Clearly, she had never gotten into Sarah's checkout line.

She just stood there, staring at me.

"You could have a friend check them out for you," I offered.

She shook her head and stared at me.

"Well," I said, "once you get those fines taken care of, you'll be back on track."

She stared at me for another 30 seconds and walked away.

I wondered if I'd been unnecessarily mean. But maybe not. If she'd been nicer to me, it would have been a completely different story. But if you're going to be rude to me, I'm not going to go out of my way for you.

Another problem we have at the library is people leaving. Or rather, not leaving. We close at 9 Monday through Thursday and at 8:45, a message is given over the loudspeaker, indicating we will be closing in 15 minutes. Then another warning is given at 5 'til. Then one says, "The library is closed." Generally, people will wait until the 5-minute warning or the actual "We're closed" message to try to check out their books. At that point, the self-checkouts have been closed down, and I'm forced to do their transactions.

Tonight, though, I'd just HAD ENOUGH. I saw this lady browsing books in the self-help section (!!!) and when the security guard announced, "The library is now closed!", she then started to make her way to the desk. I, however, as soon as I heard the announcement, powered down the computer and went about making arrangements to leave as soon as we got the "All clear!"

She comes over and says she wants to check out, and I say, "Oh. . .I just turned off the computer because the damn library is closed."

To her credit, she says, "Oh, OK. I'll come back tomorrow."

But then the lady who was at the desk with me who is. . .SUCH a people-pleaser, one of those that wants everyone to like her, you know?, says, "Oh, I'll just turn this one back on," and I want to say, "NO! If you do that, they will NEVER LEARN!"

As it turns out, the desk at the back had not powered down their computers yet, so she checked out there.

Am I wrong to do what I did? Am I wrong to be so frustrated with these people? Is society, as a whole, just getting more and more dumb?

Maybe.

The One Where the Next Generation is Effed

I read this article on CNN.com today called "Parents, do you know what these texts mean?" and it had the following examples of 'text speak':

"N2 2CB. WBU?" which means "I'm into hallucinogenics. What about you?" (Obviously, someone ON hallucinogenics came up with this.)

"WTG 4 a \%/" which means "Want to go for a drink?" (I actually figured this one out on my own. It was literally the only one for which I was able to do that.)

"%*@:-(" which means "Hung-over and got a headache." (To me, this one says, "Marge Simpson is having an especially bad hair day.")

"ctn pos. tdtm l8r k? :** :"" apparently means "Can't talk now. Parent over shoulder. Talk dirty to me later, OK? Returning the kiss." (WHAT? I'd heard of POS before [which, to me, will ALWAYS stand for Piece of Shit], and l8r I understand. But. . .I don't even know. I think this actually means "Sorry, my cat is currently walking across my keyboard.")

"No 420? Wiyp?" means "No weed? What is your problem?" (I got the 420 reference. But I don't understand the Wiyp? part of it. We KNOW what the problem is. No weed. [Excuse me. No 420.])

"LM4a~~#ZZZZZZ>" means "Let's meet for a joint." (I honestly don't get this one AT ALL. Can someone explain it to me?)

OK, OK. I get that teenagers (and. . .pre-teens) all use this nonsense and call it communication. What killed me was this part of the article:

Once you get the hang of the language, you can try your hand at translating a real message found by Susan Shankle and Barbara Melton, co-authors of the book "What in the World Are Your Kids Doing Online?"

The message reads:

"1 w45 50 j4ck3d up |457 n16h7. 1 5c0r3d 50m3 cr4ck 47 7h3 p4r7y 50 1'd h4v3 17 f0r 70n16h7 4nd 70m0rr0w, 4nd 7h3n J1mmy 700k 0ff w17h 17, 7h3 455h0|3! 1 4m 4|| j1773ry 4nd n33d 70 m337 up w17h y0u 70n16h7 4f73r my p4r3n75 7h1nk 1 4m 45|33p. c4n y0u m337 m3 47 b0j4n6|3'5 47 m1dn16h7 ju57 f0r 4 f3w m1nu735? 1 ju57 n33d 4 |177|3 4nd 1 c4n p4y y0u b4ck 0n m0nd4y, 1 pr0m153."

Oh my God. OH MY GOD, my EFFING BRAIN just EFFING EXPLODED.

Admittedly, when I was first reading through this, I actually got the basic gist of the message. Once you read it for long enough, you get the basic way it goes. But still.

For those of you who don't speak idiot 'text speak,' the message says this:

"I was so jacked up last night. I scored some crack at the party so I'd have it for tonight and tomorrow, and then Jimmy took off with it, the asshole! I am all jittery and need to meet up with you tonight after my parents think I am asleep. Can you meet me at Bojangle's at midnight just for a few minutes? I just need a little and I can pay you back on Monday, I promise."

My first question, I guess, is this: is it all the stoners who are into this kind of thing? Because the article focused on an awful lot of drug references.

Secondly. . .WHAT is HAPPENING to writing? And reading? And speaking? As a former English major (That's another question. . .once you graduate, are you still whatever your major was? Would I be an English major, or would I be a former English major?), I love words. I love writing them (properly) and reading them (properly). And the fact that all the technology and really, really dumb teenagers we have now is rendering all that useless? Is so, so sad to me. It's also vaguely "A Clockwork Orange."

I'm worried for the day, 50 years from now, when my grandkids are writing me thank you texts notes (please, dear God, please let people continue to write thank you notes.) and they something like:

y0, 6r4ndm4, 7h4nk5 f0r 7h3 5w3473r. 17 r0ck5!!! -71mmy

(Also, if I DO end up giving my grandchildren sweaters, they will be BADASS SWEATERS! With skulls and hookers on them.)

I really am just sad about the state of things nowadays. Even when I was in high school and editing my (then) boyfriend's papers, I was like, "Why can't people WRITE?" And now we're using numbers instead of letters and pictures of Marge Simpson after a night out on the town.

I'm aware I'm probably coming across as a cranky old broad, destined to sit on the porch with her cats and shake my cane at those damn kids who WON'T GET THE EFF OFF MY LAWN!, but really? I think you should have to meet a certain standard of writing before graduating high school, or you just won't be allowed to graduate. Same with college. (And I don't mean to leave out the people who don't finish high school, or don't finish college. For y'all, I say before you get any kind of job, you have to pass a test of some kind, and if you're unable to do that, you can be given some kind of class or something.

Everything's going downhill in my brain right now, because it's kind of late, but trust me. It all makes sense. Stop writing like morons. Because every time you illustrate sexual acts with random keyboard symbols and every time you WrYtE LyKe Dis, and every time you use numbers instead of letters, God kills a kitten. And then he blames you.

The One With the Irritating Things

Sometimes in life, there are things that Just Irritate the Eff Out Of You. I'm not in a bad mood today or anything, but I thought I'd take a moment and list some of these things. For funsies. And posterity.

1. People who comment on stories on CNN.com and the like by saying, "This is news?!" or "This isn't news!"

OK, y'all. Obviously you knew what the story was about when you clicked on it. And if you're in the "Entertainment" section of a news site, then yeah, Lily Allen being pregnant IS news. News is partially defined as "a report of a recent event." Yep, Lily Allen being pregnant is a recent event. At least within the last 9 months. Yep, you're reading a report. Yep, I think you should shut your whore mouth, because why did you click on it if you weren't interested in it? It's not like someone's standing over you all the time saying "CLICK ON THAT! EVEN IF YOU DON'T CARE!! YOU MUST CLICK!" This doesn't generally happen unless you have children.

2. People who can't be bothered to type with proper spelling, punctuation, or Caps Lock skills

Ironically (IRONY!!), I thought of this one whilst typing the last one. Because of the ridiculous use of Caps Lock. The thing here, though, is that I use it for emphasis, or to demonstrate someone being ungodly loud. I COULD use the "bold" function, but pressing ctrl+b takes a LOT more time than just holding down the shift key (or pressing the CL button.) My usage is out of laziness, not ignorance. But if you type a message or a text or whatever in all caps, I feel like you're yelling at me, and you're going to give me issues. Also, if you use "text speak," you sound like a 12-year-old, and I will treat you as such.

This one even gets a second paragraph, because it bugs me so much. If you send me any kind of message that reads something like, "OMG! im soooooo x-ited about de CONCERT DIS WKND!!! Txt meh l8er n we cin figgr out da PLANZ!", I'm going to slap you and possibly punch you in the face. I hate how the use of technology has made a lot of people just sound like ignorant asshats. Admittedly, I use things like "OMG" and "WTF" and stuff like that, but I use it, you know, ironically. I know that that's not what people are supposed to sound like.

3. People who refuse to let you change lanes in front of them even though it would LITERALLY be no skin off their teeth to let you in

This happened to me this morning. I drive on a really busy road to get to work. I was in the far right lane, which turns into a right turn-only lane. Even though I CAN get to work by taking the right turn, I prefer to go straight, because the right turn option takes me in the side door, and I prefer to go in the front, if the traffic's not backed up.

So I was about a minute from the lane ending. I flipped on my turn signal and this fugly gold Camery (Camry? Spell check HATES this word!) was to my left. I sped up a little to get over in front of the guy (a douchey-looking executive type in a business suit) and he sped up, too. I'm like, ". . . . ." and I slow down a little, thinking if I can't get in front of him, I'll fall in behind him.

Of course, he slows down.

Now I'm like, ". . . . . .???" I try speeding up again, and he speeds up, too. He's literally blocking me into this lane. He's looking at me, so I know it's intentional.

I did eventually give up and just take the right turn, but really? WHY was that a thing he felt like he needed to do? Letting me in front of him (and especially behind him!) would not have made him any later to wherever he was going to spread his douchebaggery amongst the masses.

The one caveat to this, the one time when I find it acceptable to not let someone change lanes in front of you, is if they're one of those people that are in a lane that's ending or closed or whatever, they've seen the signs for at least half a mile, and they stay in the closing or ending lane to try to get ahead of everyone else. I have no sympathy for these people. If you're either A) not paying attention to what you're doing, or B) Just trying to be a jerk, I will not let you in. I don't expect anyone to do it for me if I'm not paying attention to signs, so I will also not do it for you. Period.

4. People with no freaking common sense when it comes to doors

This one is entirely work-centric. The view I have from my desk is this:

On the opposite wall, beyond the doors, there is a sign. The sign used to say, essentially, "Call the person you're here to see when you get here," and then there was a list of numbers. The doors are locked, so this was in case no one was at the front desk to let you in.

I changed it because people would try to open the door (which is actually sometimes hilarious, since people pull on the door really hard sometimes and it doesn't move. People have almost fallen over. What I have wanted to do but have not and will not do is wait until they give a super hard tug and press the release button while they're doing that. I feel like that would be amusing, yet sue-worthy. Also, while I'm on it? People should understand that if they pull a door and it does not open, if they pull it a second time, it's probably STILL not going to open. I'm just sayin'.) but they would try to open the door, and then immediately look to the sign on the right, not bothering to look to the left to see me sitting right there, ready to let them in.

So I changed the sign to say something like, "If the receptionist is not there, THEN call these numbers."

You'd think this would make them think, "Oh, there's a receptionist. Maybe the receptionist will let me in."

Most people do not think this. They'll read the sign, call whomever they're there to see, and if no one answers, they'll just look irritated and lost, never once looking at me. It's annoying and frustrating, but there's no other way to get their attention other than to put up another sign saying, "Hey! Moron! Look to your LEFT! There's someone sitting RIGHT THERE, ready to let you in if you'll just LOOK AT HER!"

It does not help that when I unlatch the door, it makes no sound to indicate it has been unlocked. So people just stand there, looking at me.

Would you not look for someone sitting somewhere to let you in? It just makes sense to me.

Even though I very much dislike the number 4, I'll end it there. No need for THAT much negativity caused by basic stupidity.

The One Where I'm Disappointed in the Arizona Judge

Food for thought:

If you cross the North Korean border illegally you get 12 years hard
labor.

If you cross the Iranian border illegally you are detained indefinitely.

If you cross the Afghan border illegally, you get shot.

If you cross the Saudi Arabian border illegally you will be jailed.

If you cross the Chinese border illegally you may never be heard from
again.

If you cross the Venezuelan border illegally you will be branded a spy
and your fate will be sealed.

If you cross the Mexican borders illegally you will jailed for two years.

If you cross the Cuban border illegally you will be thrown into political
prison to rot.

If you cross the United States border illegally you get:
1 - A job
2 - A driver's license
3 - A Social Security card
4 - Welfare
5 - Food stamps
6 - Credit cards
7 - Subsidized rent or a loan to buy a house
8 - Free education
9 - Free health care
10 - A lobbyist in Washington
11 - Billions of dollars in public documents printed in your language
12 - Millions of servicemen and women who are willing to - and do - die
for your right to the ways and means of our constitution
13 - And the right to carry the flag of your country - the one you walked
out on.

Just think about it, y'all.

The One Where People Continue to be Dumb

First of all, I want to share a little story my Mom told me last week that has nothing to do with dumb people. But I want to write it down before I forget it.

My cousin's daughter is staying with my Mom, SDad, and sister this week while she goes to the camp for which Katie is a counselor. Lily is the kid's name, and she's 5.

So Johnny (SDad) is having coffee that morning, and the following conversation took place:

Lily: You're drinking coffee. Only old people drink coffee.
Johnny: Only old people drink coffee? Guess I'm an old person.
Lily: Yeah. Also because you have a young girlfriend.
Johnny: I do? Who's my young girlfriend?
Lily: Aunt BJ! (Betty Jean. . .that's my mom.)
Johnny: (laughs) No, Aunt BJ isn't my girlfriend. She's my wife!
Lily: Nope. She's your young girlfriend!

Ah, kids.

Now, on to the dumb people.

This article was on CNN.com. . .whenever it was I started writing this post:

(CNN) -- A Texas bus driver has filed a lawsuit against his former employer, claiming he was fired for his religious beliefs after refusing to transport a client to a Planned Parenthood office, court documents showed Wednesday.

Edwin A. Graning worked for the Capital Area Rural Transportation System (CARTS) near Austin, Texas, for less than a year before he was let go in January. At the time, he told his supervisor that, "in good conscience, he could not take someone to have an abortion," according to the lawsuit. Graning is an ordained Christian minister.

Planned Parenthood, a health care provider that offers a range of medical services to women, including those related to abortion, often draws the ire of anti-abortion groups in the United States, where the procedure is legal but fiercely controversial.

Graning's last day of employment was the same day he refused service.

He is seeking reinstatement, back pay, and compensatory damages for pain, suffering and emotional distress.

"It's only because he voiced his religions beliefs that he was canned," Edward White III, Graning's lawyer, told CNN. "Employers have a legal responsibility to at least attempt to accommodate an employee's religious beliefs. ... CARTS clearly violated Mr. Graning's religious freedom."

White, who works for a public interest law group founded by evangelical Christian leader Pat Robertson, said CARTS sent a second driver to collect the client and took her and a friend to the Planned Parenthood office.

"While others may wish to make more of it, to CARTS this is just about our expectation that employees perform the duties they are hired for," David Marsh, general manager of CARTS, said in an e-mail message to CNN.

In addition to rides along fixed routes, CARTS offers some door-to-door service within its rural coverage area.

The lawsuit, in the U.S. District Court for western Texas, Austin Division, was filed on July 14.

OK. So. . .I don't even know. . .where to begin with this one.

I completely respect the beliefs of the people who say abortion is wrong. I, personally, don't really know where I stand on the subject, but I don't think that other people have the right to tell someone who wants to get an abortion (they ARE legal, after all) that they can't. If they were illegal, that would be something else entirely.

Basically, this would be like a waiter saying, "No, I'm sorry, I won't bring you the pork chops you ordered. I'm Jewish." Or a lesbian working at Baby Gap saying, "No, I'm sorry, I can't sell you this overpriced onesie, because I think it's gross that people procreate.

If you take a job, you're expected to perform the duties of that job. The article didn't say whether or not the woman was actually going for an abortion. PP does stuff other than that. . . providing contraceptives, providing the morning-after pill (which, by the way, is NOT the same thing as the so-called abortion pill), etc.

Then there's the guy's lawyer, who said "Employers have a legal responsibility to at least attempt to accommodate an employee's religious beliefs. . .CARTS clearly violated Mr. Graning's religious freedom." Um, how about, they fired him because he was pushing his beliefs onto other people (violating THEIR freedom of religion) and not doing the job he was being paid to do. If someone refused to drive a Catholic to Mass because they were Jewish, you'd better believe they'd get fired. It's the same thing.

I'm now remembering why I didn't finish this post in the first place. Ignorance makes me angry.

The One With IRONY!

Back for another round. This round will start with a list of thoughts I feel the need to write down, and then the point of the post.

A couple things to note:

1. My iPod has been AWOL for about. . .6 months. It was recently (and randomly) unearthed, and I ordered a new battery for it (because, previously, if you charged it to full power, put it on the list of music, and then had the audacity to skip a song, that would completely drain the power and it would die immediately.) and D took the thing apart and installed the new battery. Viva la iPod!

2. I am currently in the middle of reading. . .approximately 6 books, one of which is NOT the book I have to have read for next Tuesday's book club. Um, I should get on that.

3. I think my boss has a thing for D.

4. I need to know how much is too much information on this blog. I have stories I'd like to tell, but I think maybe they're just not something everyone, their mother, and their mother's girlfriend needs to know. (What? I'm progressive and accepting. I don't care if your mother has a girlfriend.)

5. I'm freaking dying for a piece of the cheesecake I made last night.

6. I think Blogger needs the same thing Xanga has, where you can say what you're currently listening to/watching/reading. Because I'm all about mundane information about my life! The only problem here would be if I were reading my 6 books (see point 2), watching "Napoleon Dynamite" and listening to Cutting Crew's "I Just Died in Your Arms." (True story: That is what I am listening to.)

OK, so, irony.

Here's the dictionary definition (taken from dictionary.com):

i·ro·ny

¹    [ahy-ruh-nee, ahy-er-]

–noun, plural -nies.

1.

the use of words to convey a meaning that is the opposite ofits literal meaning: the irony of her

reply, “How nice!” when I said I had to work all weekend.

2.

Literature .

a.

a technique of indicating, as through character or plotdevelopment, an intention or

attitude opposite to thatwhich is actually or ostensibly stated.

b.

(esp. in contemporary writing) a manner of organizing awork so as to give full expression

to contradictory orcomplementary impulses, attitudes, etc., esp. as ameans of indicating

detachment from a subject, theme,or emotion.

3.

Socratic irony.

4.

dramatic irony.

5.

an outcome of events contrary to what was, or might have been, expected.

6.

the incongruity of this.

7.

an objectively sardonic style of speech or writing.

8.

an objectively or humorously sardonic utterance, disposition, quality, etc.

Irony is one of those things that most people just don't get the meaning of. "Wow. . .that's pretty ironic," is often said about things that are not ironic.

"Wow, you and your ex-boyfriend showed up at the same bar last night. How ironic!"

No. This is not ironic. Irony would be if a girl went out because she was trying to avoid seeing her ex-boyfriend, and they ended up at the same bar. That would be irony definition number 5. She was trying to get away from him, but he went to the same place she did. Whoa. IRONY!

(Here, I should explain that D and I had a conversation about irony the other day, talking about what's ironic and what's actually not, and now, whenever something comes up that is actually ironic, I do a weird jazz hands movement and say, "IRONY!" What would be ironic would be if D had sworn to never fall in love with anyone who used jazz hands. IRONY!)

The entirety of Alanis Morisette's song, "Ironic," is NOT IRONIC. There's nothing ironic about "meeting the man of your dreams/and then meeting his beautiful wife." There's no bit of irony in a "black fly/in your Chardonnay." And it's not ironic if you have "rain on your wedding day."

Most of these are just things that really suck.

To be fair, there is one legit irony in the song (the guy who's afraid of flying dying in a plane crash). But one out of. . .many doesn't cut it.

The irony thing is just another English Language thing that irks me, kind of like the ending -oholic being used to describe someone being addicted to something besides alcohol.