Life Lessons

Yesterday afternoon, Jason and I noticed an enormous crack running diagonally across my windshield. It appeared to explain the mysterious squeaking we had been hearing for a few days (the sound of the crack spreading, presumably), and we hadn’t noticed it initially because the chip from which it had spread was on the black rim of the windshield, underneath a wiper blade, making it invisible from inside the car.

I was freaked out, because I had been spending exorbitant amounts of money recently on moving in and getting settled (Jason and I would often not realize it was a meal time until we were hungry, so we have been eating out a lot, too), not to mention adopting a cat (I pick her up on Saturday, hurray!). I had no idea how much the repair would cost, and whether I would have to replace the windshield altogether. This was also bad news because in addition to the cost of a new windshield, I might have to replace my new TX registration stickers (you place them on the windshield, not the plate), and since TX has no state income tax, they charge you $50 for the stickers!

Jason did some research and found a website for an auto glass repair shop called Clint’s Glass relatively near (it was in Houston, and just outside the Loop). It sounded like an independent operation, but I gave the guy a call and he sounded so friendly on the phone and assured me that barring a torrential storm, he would be open. I found the place pretty easily, and his operation was run out of a tent on an auto repair parking lot. He told me to pull my car right up to the tent and had me keep the car running so that I would have A/C and because he was able to work that quickly.

Clint worked quickly, cheerfully, and it only cost $30. I should have taken before/after pictures. You can see a faint distortion of the glass where he repaired it, but the chips are gone, and the windshield is repaired. He also told me that because I had left the crack for so long, some chemical (ranex?) might repel the liquid-based filler he had used. In the case that my windshield cracked again, he would repair it for free, but it wouldn’t look as good. I’m fine with that.

To anyone living in Houston, I would highly recommend this guy. He seems to love his job, and he’s got a warm and merry demeanor that makes you trust and like him right away. Also, $30 to repair a windshield crack!!!

Had to blog about this, as it requires no pictures. My parents recently decided to end DirecTV in favor of bundling their FiOS with FiOS TV. There was a promotion going on that promised 2 months of every single premium movie channel for free. You just had to be an existing FiOS customer and activate it before 6/20. On 6/18, we had it installed, but the movie channels didn’t work. My mom called the Korean-speaking hotline every day and was promised over and over again that it would activate any time now. I finally called the English line today and was dismayed to discover that no one had bothered to add the promotion to our account. The guy made a note of it and switched me over to Billing to get it taken care of.

The billing guy pointed out that the deal had ended and it was impossible to activate it after the deadline had passed. I argued that we had followed our end of the deal, and that it was someone at Verizon who had messed it up, and it wasn’t our fault. He offered to give us the currently running deal, which was THREE months of free HBO and Cinemax, but that was not good enough, methought. He also offered to give us every premium channel for a discounted rate as long as we wanted it, but I didn’t like that, either. Because I wouldn’t give up and started getting agitated, he finally created our own personalized deal, in which we purchased every single premium channel, but he credited our account for the amount that it cost for the next 2 months. Big smiles. I just have to remember to cancel it.

I LOVE VERIZON!!! Also, the first service representative had me laughing at his imitation of the automated voice system before giving me the number to reach a human agent.

Alton Brown, on hospitality:

“Hospitality is about giving graciously and taking what is offered. The greatest hospitality I’ve ever been shown is when I invited someone to my house for dinner without knowing she was a vegetarian. She ate the food that was offered with nothing but a heartfelt ‘thank you.’ And, baby, I served ribs.”

ViddyHo Scam

Thanks to Johann for both providing me with the NY Times link and for warning me not to fall prey to the scam when a friend’s infected chat client sent the invitation to me.

Don’t Divorce Us

I am a religious person, and I will admit that my position on this issue makes it apparent that I pick and choose what I follow and believe. But I can’t think of a single Christian who doesn’t do this, especially when it comes to this issue as well. You can’t claim that the purpose of life is to raise a family if you’re against both love and marriage and promoting divorce. How can you claim that divorce is bad and then enthusiastically call for the divorce of thousands of couples who have proven themselves to be faithful for longer than most heterosexual couples you know? The funny thing is, one part of me that is super pissed is the conservative Republican side. If you’re going to spend billions of dollars, FEED THE HOMELESS OR DO SOMETHING USEFUL WITH THE MONEY. Don’t spend billions of dollars promoting hate, and then send me a letter asking me to be loving and feed the crackheads you’ve taken in because you’re out of money. One thing I will say is that gays are not putting a strain on our economy. Can you say the same about yourself?

Anytime that I see reminders of Prop 8 and who it affects, it makes me cry.

If your argument in favor of Prop 8 is that marriage is sacred, why are you promoting divorce?

‘And Jesus will answer them, “Whatever you did unto one of the least, you did unto Me!”‘

I complained in an earlier post about not signing up for Rhapsody on my Samsung Juke. I called Verizon, and they agreed to cancel it, but told me that in order to get credited for the amount that I was charged, I would have to contact Rhapsody and that the process would take a while. I didn’t want to bother, so I decided to just suck up the charge ($15). On my next bill, however, I noticed that not only had Verizon cancelled my subscription (for which I contend that I never signed up), but had apparently contacted Rhapsody on my behalf, because they had credited almost all of the charge to my account. I love Verizon. Good customer service goes a long way.

So after I sent them an email threatening them with legal action, I received an email from them, giving me the tracking number for the shipment they sent in September, containing the WRONG ITEM.  I gather that this is their way of saying, “Well, we shipped SOMETHING, so you can’t sue us.”  I emailed them back, telling them that this package contained an incorrect item in the first place, yadayada… So I called Capital One to see if they had any ideas.  They recommended that I send back the incorrect item they sent me, and to keep a copy of the tracking number.  Once I know that the package arrived, ask Trashy.com for the refund, and if they don’t give me a refund, call Capital One and give them the tracking number, and then they’ll be able to dispute the charge and give me a refund then.  This is the best plan so far.  So on Monday, I’ll be hitting up the US Post Office and keeping my fingers crossed.  Wish me luck, and spread the word in order to keep your friends from getting screwed at Trashy.com (and CheapTickets - see Zetho’s blog).  

I ordered a Halloween costume from a site called Trashy.com in September, the 21st, to be exact.  It arrived on 9/23, which was great, I thought.  But when I pulled the costume out, it was in the wrong size.  I checked all the forms to make sure that it wasn’t my mistake, and it wasn’t.  It was their mistake.  I called them immediately and let them know what had happened.  The customer service rep apologized and told me they would mail out the costume in the correct size right away and would include call tags so that I could send the incorrect item back to them.       I waited for a week, then called them back on 9/30, asking when I could expect it.  The new customer service rep looked up my problem and assured me that it was scheduled to be mailed out later that week.  I thanked her and waited again.     The next week, 10/10, I called them to ask why it hadn’t arrived yet.  The customer service rep told me that she would check with their outgoing packages department and that she would call me right back.  I never received a call back.    I emailed them on 10/13, detailing my experience and telling them it was now too late for them to ship it, or for me to trust that they would ship it, and to just forget it and give me a refund.  Not knowing how responsive they were to their emails, I also called them that day and demanded to speak to a manager.  The girl who answered the phone claimed to be their customer service manager, so I told her what happened, she said she had received my email earlier that day and would give me a refund.  No apology, just that my package had never been shipped out and what did I want.  I told her I wanted a refund, so she said she’d refund it immediately, later that day.       I just checked my credit card statement today, 10/22, and no refund was issued.  I sent an email demanding that they refund the money or that I would take legal action.  I also submitted a complaint to the Better Business Bureau of the Southland, which is located in California.  We’ll see what happens. 

Verizon/Rhapsody, you piece of shit.

edit: I never signed up for you, you piece of shit.

I feel that my previous blog entry deserves an explanation. I was checking my bank account, and realized to my dismay that I had been debited $9.50 for a monthly service. This was the first time Citibank has ever charged me for having a checking account, so I decided some mistake had been made and called customer service. This ended up ruining my day. I got a customer service rep in India. The connection was not very strong, so his voice was very faint, and his accent was very thick. I could not understand what he was saying, and he apparently could not understand what I was getting at, because he could not/would not answer my questions. At some point, I got the impression that my checking account had been switched to some new plan that had certain requirements, which, if not met, would cause me to incur penalties. I asked why I had been switched to that new plan, and here is the following conversation, only keep in mind that I asked the guy to repeat everything he said at least 3 times, because I couldn’t understand him.

“Well, are you a student?”

“No.”

“That is why you got switched. If you don’t maintain at least $6,000 in your checking account and are not a student, you must pay the fee.”

“Why did I get switched to this account?”

“Because you are no longer a student.”

“Are you telling me that Citibank only has checking accounts that require a minimum balance of $6,000?”

“That is right, if you are not a student.”

“That can’t be right.”

“You’re right.”

“I’m right?”

“You’re right.”

“I don’t think I should have to pay a fee for a plan that I never agreed to, and I certainly would not have agreed to if I had known about its ridiculous requirements, which weren’t even outlined to me. How was I assigned to this account without my knowledge or permission?”

“Because you’re not a student.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“If you are no longer a student, you have to pay a fee if you don’t meet the minimum balance.”

“No one told me I even had this new plan.”

“That is right.”

“So I shouldn’t have to pay and I want a different checking account plan!”

“Well, are you a student?”

“No!”

“Then you must pay the fee or keep the balance.”

Anyway, at this point, I was sick of going around in circles because he obviously had no idea what I was asking and what my arguments meant. I ended up asking him if I could get this straightened out at a branch. He referred me to one in Norwalk, but I said, “No, I am going to give you an address, and you tell me if this is a branch that can straighten out my problem.” I gave him an address in my city, and he verified that it was a branch, but that even though they could provide the services I needed, I should go to Norwalk, which made no sense. I hung up the phone, fuming that something so simple could not be resolved because Citibank had decided to save money by hiring people with limited English speaking skills to work at a job that required communication skills, above all else.

Today I went to the branch that I chose (not the one in Norwalk), and talked to a personal banker. He was polite, answered all of my questions, sympathized that I had been given an account I didn’t want with requirements of which I was unaware, and waived the fee. He then switched me to a new account with requirements that fit my needs. He gave me his card and told me to let him know if I had any other problems or questions. I thanked him and then said, “So, you were wonderful, by the way. But I want to complain about Citibank’s customer service, specifically, their phone customer service.”

“Ahhh… I’m guessing that you spoke to someone in India.” I wanted to hug him when he said that.

“Yes! Exactly! It was horrible!”

“We just had a meeting about this. They told us to let you know that the next time you call, you can request to be connected to someone in the U.S. That should take care of that problem.”

“Oh, wow. Thank you, again, SO MUCH.” I left in high spirits, extremely happy that Citibank knows about this problem of theirs. I was also laughing that the guy knew right away what I was talking about.

Whoever came up with outsourcing customer service is a fucking idiot. And fuck every single company that outsources customer service. You IDIOTS.

I think I know a few people who claim to have been home-schooled, and they turned out fine. They were intelligent and attended universities and weren’t socially awkward. That being said, I think I could pull off home-schooling my own children, but I wouldn’t want to. I think sending kids to school is a good way for them to practice social graces and learn the lessons in life that I wouldn’t know how to teach or wouldn’t want to. I don’t know anyone who learned about the birds and the bees from their parents. My kids aren’t going to learn about them from me.

What I hadn’t considered was that sending kids to school is a good way for the state to monitor what kind of job I’m doing as a parent. I can go on and on about the shitty parents whose children I’ve taught. But I never suspected these parents of abusing their children or endangering their lives. I think as a teacher, I could have seen some warning signs as well. If I had, I would have reported them and made sure the kids were safe. Social services would have done follow-ups to make sure that the parents weren’t trying anything suspicious. School is an amazing place in terms of bringing to light any problems that are brewing behind the scenes.

Now, how do we keep track of those kids who are being home-schooled by psychopaths? We haven’t been, and here’s what happens when we assume people of competence are taking care of their own, instead of insane freaks:

Lack of Supervision Noted in Deaths of Home-Schooled

Check out her explanation of how the children died. ENRAGING.

I’m way behind on blogging and I have several food entries that I would like to post, but I just finished reading Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting By in America, by Barbara Ehrenreich. It was an amazing and eye-opening read. I believe she was addressing the income bracket of myself, my family, and my friends in writing this book. People who are employed in the white collar workforce take it for granted that people in the blue collar industry earn enough to get by. We’ve got all sorts of government aid to help them, don’t we? If people are homeless, it’s because they’re too lazy to get a job, isn’t it? Not necessarily. Quite a large percentage of homeless people have jobs; our minimum-wage pay does not pay enough for the low-income population to be able to afford steadily-increasing rent.

From the POV of someone who owns a low-income housing complex, I can see why, given the opportunity, they’d want to renovate the apartments and increase the rent to attract a higher income bracket population. When you see housing for low-income workers, there are all types of weird ways that the place gets damaged, and there is the fear of someone not paying rent, etc. However, for these reasons, there are fewer and fewer available housing and rental units for those who earn minimum wage and they have to spend more, strangely, by renting in motels, because they cannot afford to save up the money needed to place a deposit on an apartment. When they rent in a motel, they do not have access to a kitchen, and then they have to spend more money on buying ready-made food that doesn’t need to be stored in a refrigerator (Doritos, KFC…). This means they can’t save money by making a huge pot of stew and freezing it (thinking of college days when we lived on Rice-A-Roni and SPAM).

I think what Barbara was noticing was that as the white collar workforce gains more spending power (causing inflation), the blue collar workforce suffers. Also, the white collar workforce (The Man, or The Corporation) gains at the expense of the blue collar - we earn more profits by raising prices but keeping their wages static. There are many insidious ways for the top tier of a corporation to keep the wages down for their employees at the bottom level, but it could also be detrimental for them to raise wages for their workers in terms of decreasing hiring, raising prices…

I don’t know what the solution is, but it does show what we’re working against when we try to come up with a “fair and beneficial” plan in terms of welfare reform. It’s one of many reasons why I’m happy I’m not working for the government: some people think solutions are so simple, but everything is so complicated. This book, for example, was published in 2001. Barbara was conducting her research from 1999 - 2000, then. Barbara was noticing increasing poverty all around her, and this was among the employed. People had to work 2 jobs full-time just to be able to feed themselves and pay some sort of rent. 2000, hmmm, wasn’t that the Age of Prosperity, when everyone was raving about our wonderful economy and how much money everyone was making, and how no one was poor?

Anyway, I highly recommend that everyone read this book. Besides being extremely informative and articulate, Barbara is hilarious and has a biting sense of humor. She forms relationships and observes the people around her, trying to understand their backgrounds and how they attempt to survive on minimum wages. Since I finished reading my copy, let me know if you want to borrow it.

Here are a couple of articles from the New York Times, that reflects a portion of what Barbara had been observing:

Food Banks, in a Squeeze, Tighten Belts

Mothers Scrimp as States Take Child Support

My sister directed me to a website she knew I would love. I think it is one of the greatest websites ever and will probably use it for the rest of my life: http://someecards.com/

Jason had given me an update on how policemen were patrolling SD neighborhoods to make sure looters weren’t taking advantage of the disaster. I was thinking about how low it would be, and crime in general, and I remembered the sheriff of Maricopa County that Jason and I had read about months earlier. He’s basically a modern-day hero to me, taking the harsh steps that I think are necessary to deter criminals and prevent crime.

Here’s his bio: http://www.mcso.org/index.php?a=GetModule&mn=Sheriff_Bio. He’s only got one year in office left, but I hope he’s allowed to be re-elected for a 5th term.

Here is the article where I first heard about him: http://snopes.com/politics/crime/arpaio.asp. I like browsing snopes.com for fun articles, facts, and urban legends.

If you wiki Joe or Joseph Arpaio, you’ll see that he’s got a few black marks to his name, but I think what people forget is that these are criminals’ complaints, and I’m sorry, but if a criminal dies during a high-speed chase, he shouldn’t have tried to flee in the first place. It’s not fair for policemen to go on trial for trying to catch someone in the middle of committing a crime.

Everyone in SoCal or who has loved ones in SoCal knows this is going on. It appears that all of southern California is on fire. Over in Cerritos, it just looks like the sky is really smoggy. Everyone knows someone who’s affected by the fires. Jason helped his parents evacuate from Escondido, and soon after, his neighborhood in Rancho Bernardo got evacuated as well. Luckily, his family has another house in Solana Beach, so they’ve got a place of their own to stay. It’s tough for everyone - I think we feel kind of useless, just counting on others to put the fires out and save everyone and everything.

Update: We found out one of our friends’ homes got burned down. Still watching the news and trying to get text updates from people in SD.

Update, 8:55 PM: Solana Beach has also been evacuated.

On Saturday, Jason, Ken, Karen, and I went to the Rose Bowl to watch Cal lose spectacularly to UCLA. Well, so it wasn’t a total blowout, but it sucked for Cal fans, all the same. The game was fun to watch, though - I’ll readily admit. Though I had thought in advance to smear sunscreen all over my face and neck, I neglected my ears, arms, and hands, and suffered sunburn as a result. I think I also suffered from “sun poisoning” - more on that later.

After the game, Jason and I spent an hour or so in traffic, trying to get to Irvine so that we could hang out with Kevan, Rachel, and Fletch. We went to a Mexican place in Santa Ana called El Gallo Giro for some tortas. That menu looked delicious and so did the To Go items boiling in vats. The food was delicious, but I may have caught something from there - more on that later, as well.

Then we hit up Elvis!? for 3 hours of heartfelt crooning. This was after chugging half a bottle each of Moet and Chandon’s with Rachel in the parking lot while the guys nursed Stella Artois and Smithwick’s. Jason and I were too tired at the end of the night to drink our Gatorade and since we felt sticky and filthy, we took showers and went to sleep.

Now for the “later”: I woke up with a headache and feeling slightly nauseous Sunday morning. I thought it was hunger pains, so I ate an apple and some dry toast. I only felt worse and spent the rest of the day as a sleeping, sweating, shivering, nauseous mess. Jason and my mom had to take care of me as best they could - I couldn’t eat because I felt too nauseous, and I developed a burning fever. I was sweating, but freezing, so I wore a thick woolen jacket and covered myself up with a thick woolen blanket. I took a warm bath, which felt like freezing water to me because I was burning up so badly, and then ate some Korean chicken soup my mom had picked up for me. I thought I was doing okay, because I was able to choke down half of a small bowl, but about an hour and a half later, I threw it all up and went to bed.

I woke up 9 hours later, feeling much better, so I think I either had food poisoning or sun poisoning.

My mom’s friend has been staying with us for the past few days as a pit stop during her United States tour. Her previous stop was in Hawaii, where she left some treasured items in a hotel room. The tour guide was nice enough to pick them up for her and agree to send them to our house via UPS, COD.

We received a note on our door saying that UPS attempted to deliver a parcel, but that we needed to pay the COD charge. It stated, “Personal/business check accepted unless indicated below.” Nothing was indicated below. There was a nice little box to check if they would only accept Cashier’s check, official bank check, or money order only. The box was not checked. We didn’t want to hang out around the house for the next few days, so we left an envelope for the UPS guy containing a personal check made out to UPS for the amount requested. We came home to find a note reading, “Sorry, but you’re supposed to make the check out to the sender, not to UPS.” This was left on their second delivery attempt.

We leave another envelope for the UPS guy containing a personal check made out to the sender, as requested. The UPS guy left a note saying, “Sorry, we only accept money orders.” The damn box wasn’t checked, and he could have told us the 2nd time he came by, but he chose to tell us on his 3rd (and last) delivery attempt.

Fortune smiled upon us, seemingly. The UPS guy came by for a 4th delivery attempt. We had the money order ready. “Sorry, I can’t accept this. You need to drop this off at the UPS pickup center, but you can only come between 8 and 8:30 PM.” He could have told us that on the first delivery attempt. Or second. Or third.

I go to the pickup center, money order in hand. They have no idea where the package is.

“You need to make an appointment to pick up a package, dear.”

“No, the delivery guy gave us explicit instructions to come here with a money order in hand. Why would he do that if he didn’t expect us to come by?”

“I don’t know; that’s really weird of him. Well, we don’t have you down for an appointment, but we’ll look and see if we can find the package for you, anyway.” Goes to the back, can’t find it. I see her pick up the phone and talk to someone, trying to track down the package. She returns. “I’m sorry, but the delivery guy had the package sent back to the shipper.”

“Why would he do that, after giving us explicit instructions?”

“I have no idea; he should have done the exact opposite of everything he’s done.”

“Well, thank you. You’ve been helpful.”

“We’re really sorry - you should call the UPS 800 number, otherwise they’ll never get it resolved.”

“Thank you, I will.”

The security guard saw me leaving sans package. “Did you get your package? Does it fit inside your bag or something?”

“No, it looks like there was some mix-up. They can’t find it. I think the delivery guy screwed up.”

“That’s a shame. There’s nothing they can do?”

“They tried.”

“That’s terrible. You should call that 800 number - complain. I’m very sorry.”

I got home, picked up the phone, and dialed UPS, my hands shaking with anger. I spoke to a nice girl on the phone, who started to lecture me that they were nice by trying 4 times to deliver the package, but I would have none of it. I made sure that she knew that UPS screwed up several times, and that every time since the 2nd delivery attempt was just a waste of everyone’s time. I apologized to her for being angry, and that I knew she was just the unfortunate soul to pick up the phone, but that the blame was on someone in UPS. She became sympathetic and listened to my demands (to find the package and have it sent back to me, free, and right away), and promised to try to find the package (which is probably impossible to do) and update me with its status by 10 AM tomorrow.

So to the people at the UPS center, the security guard, and Ceci: Thank you for being so sympathetic and trying to be helpful and fix the incompetent fucks’ mistakes. Delivery guy: FUCK YOU, even though you’re hot and have nice legs. You piece of shit. Oh, and thanks to Johann for commiserating and letting me rant, since he was the only person online at the time.

* I just found out from my mom that it wasn’t the hot UPS guy who screwed up.  It’s been some other guy who’s been screwing us over.  Dumb piece of shit.  We want the hot guy back.

Funny that they don’t rhyme, right? Anyway, I’ve had talks with guys about one aspect of this issue before. Some girls have a height requirement in dating. I don’t think I ever asked them why, but I’ve got a few ideas. First of all, maybe they just find it attractive when a guy’s talking to them from a certain height. It just looks good to them, and they’ve discovered from experience that this height corresponds to X feet, Y inches. Girls might enjoy tilting their chins back Z degrees in order to look at their date. I don’t know; I am just assuming girls have a certain range of height that they find attractive. I do think that these same girls would have a cutoff height as well, but rarely need to exercise it, since not many guys fall above their cutoff limit anyway. It might have to do with physically projecting an image of health and masculinity. Again, these are all guesses - height doesn’t matter to me (although it is a nice bonus that Jason can grab things from high shelves for me).

I can see how guys falling short of the height requirement may be really pissed about the fact that it exists at all, and I am not saying that they shouldn’t be, but I would also like to point out that almost every guy I’ve ever met, while not always expressing it verbally, has a weight range that they are willing to date. They may just find girls under a certain weight attractive, the way that girls find guys over a certain height attractive. Guys may like to wrap their arms a certain distance around their partners when they hug, for example. There is probably a cutoff weight in terms of a girl being underweight, but like unusually tall guys, unusually thin girls are not commonly found in the dating world. And this weight range of attractiveness probably deals with physically projecting an image of health and femininity.

“You’re being ridiculous! Guys aren’t weightist! Well, I’m not weightist, anyway.” Hmmm. A guy could meet an awesome girl who has a beautiful face, fantastic hair, sweet disposition, cool personality, intelligence and wit beyond compare, and everything in common with him, but if she weighs over his weight cutoff, I firmly believe that he will forever consider her “just a friend.” Conversely, there are tons of unsavory women out there who weigh in the double digits who will never need to search for a date - she can pick one of several guys wrapped around her finger. I put in this example for guys who complain that tall unsavory males have no problem getting a date. But yes, I will admit that a girl could meet an awesome guy who is cute, nice, funny, successful - but refuses to be more than “just friends” if he’s 5′ tall.

I have no problem with people being weightist or heightist - there are just things that you find attractive in members of the opposite sex.

Why put up with it? I’ve got several guilty-of-behavior-that-could-be-interpreted-as-obnoxious friends, but despite their tendencies that tend to turn off most people, I sincerely like them and spending time with them. I was thinking about this today. Not because I saw any of my GOBTCBIAO friends today. Something came up and I don’t think I explained myself well.

When people talk to you, you can’t just take their words at face value. You have to take into account that they are taking the time to interact with you, and sometimes the words that people say go in one ear and out the other, and I think this is intentional. What they want me to hear is not necessarily, “Oh my God! Are you sure?!” (ie. you must be mistaken), but “I sympathize with your unfair situation.” They want you to know that they are listening with a caring ear, and the actual words that come out of their mouth can be irrelevant in many situations.

I think I have GOBTCBIAO friends bc they are easy to get to know. I can be in a situation where I don’t know many people, or don’t know many people well, and they will come over and say something that could be interpreted as assholish, but I think I recognize that what they are trying to do is include me in the group, and don’t quite know how, other than to get me talking or interacting in some way. Some people can interpret their behavior as an immature way of expressing camaraderie, but I am grateful for that gesture, because it is intended as friendly and it is a sincere form of trying to get to know you or hint that you’re considered “part of the group.” That gesture speaks much louder to me than the actual words that are said. So if they said something that could be interpreted as mean, I can’t remember it, because what I heard was, “Hey, friend, I’d like to spend some time with you.  Let’s talk.”

I hate it when people don’t put their shopping carts away when they’re done loading up their car. If you’ve got a baby and you’re all alone, then yes, fine, I understand that you don’t want to leave the baby unattended for even a second - I would actually be a little annoyed if you did leave them unattended. You are the only one exempt from the shopping cart rule. But people, really - those shopping cart return areas are everywhere - it really doesn’t hurt to take those 15 extra footsteps and 10 seconds of your time to keep cars from being dented. Oh, and I am pissed at the old lady that saw me trying to pull into a parking space and for some reason frantically shoved her empty cart into the space right in front of my car: WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?? WERE YOU TRYING TO DENT MY CAR?? I saw that you and your daughter-in-law were physically perfectly able to put that cart away.

If I’m passing through a doorway and need to open a door to do so, I hold the door open if someone is close enough that they would be inconvenienced by me letting the door slam shut. I do it out of politeness. I suspect most girls do that for the same reasons. If a guy is in the same position, I expect him to open the door as well, and I thank him for doing so. What unnerves me is when guys do it with a flourish, making a little scene. It seems sexist, and I couldn’t put my finger on it until I was rereading this book by Deborah Tannen, That’s Not What I Meant! Many girls have issue with having doors opened for them because while the socially communicated message is: I am being polite and generous, the metamessage is: I am the decider of when you pass through this doorway. I am the one granting you this privilege - thus, I have the upper hand. Girls never want guys to have the upper hand if they can help it.

At Cal, I had a car during my junior and senior years. Most of my friends were male, so I was usually the one driving us all from place to place. I would always open their car doors before entering my own door - I got a kick out of it. I thought it was because I was reversing the traditional gender roles, or because I was reinforcing the type of behavior I expected them to follow whenever they were in the driver’s seat. I think now it was because I was reinforcing the issue that I was in the driver’s seat and it was up to me as to when they would enter the car and I would ultimately decide where we were going.

One of my closest male college friends, Ted, used to regularly let doors slam in my face, and refused to open my car door for me the few times he drove. He usually wanted me to drive, and he insisted that guys who opened doors for girls were sexist. I think he implied that I was trying to insult his masculinity by constantly opening doors for him, but far from being annoyed by it, I think it delighted him that a girl would take those steps to assert herself. Now I understand what he meant (since he never really explained himself). And I do need to give him credit - after all, he had 2 older sisters who were very strong individuals.

Jason never opens car doors for me - I was a little insulted when we first started dating, but now I’m happy that he doesn’t. And he never insists on driving, either - I love that about him. I never feel bad about letting him drive my cars because he doesn’t do it believing that he’s a better driver, or that it’s the boyfriend’s job to drive - he does it because he knows I don’t feel like driving.  I think a happy relationship is one in which the boyfriend knows he does not always have the upper hand, nor should he ever be under the impression that he is entitled to it.

Cop charged in police dog’s hot car death. There really isn’t more to say than that. Idiot. I get pissed every time I read about a baby or animal dying in a car on a hot day. Even if people lacked common sense and an average intellect, aren’t these cases publicized enough in the news for people to learn?

If I order something and specifically choose “Next Day - Expedited Shipping,” it’s because I want them to ship it so I’ll receive it the next day after they receive my order. They should not charge me for taking 3+ days to ship it, that is, if they even end up sending it at all. And if they had any trouble with the order, they’ve got my phone number and email address. Why did they ask for it if they’re not going to use it?

All right: Jason called them up to complain and the guy who answered said he’d personally see to it that his order would get shipped immediately - and it did!! Unfortunately, Jason neglected to get his name, so we can’t write love letters to him at Pac Sun.

http://www.nytimes.com/2007/06/19/us/19vote.html?pagewanted=1&th&emc=th

I think my biggest worry was over the example they used. If these men are mentally unfit enough to be capable of killing people (repeatedly committing murders), how can they still be considered capable of making decisions that will affect everyone? A jury deemed them mentally unsound enough to not be found guilty of murder, but they’re still considered mentally sound enough to vote. If they had been found guilty of murder, they would not have been able to vote.

A very close friend of mine, Stella, is running a half marathon to benefit the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. I must mention that she HATES exercise of any sort (with a passion), so I am very proud of her for participating in this.

Here’s her website if you can help by making a donation: http://www.active.com/donate/tntgsf/stellayang

I hope I get to post a picture of her running later. Heehee.

I’m such a fool about quizzes.

I got almost the exact same results as Reina.

Your Love Life Secrets Are

Looking back on your life, you will have a few true loves.You’re a little scarred from your past relationships, but who isn’t?You expect a lot from your lover - you want the full package. You tend to be very picky. In fights, you speak your mind and don’t hold back. You know you’re right, and you can get quite angry about it. Break-ups can be painful for you, but you never show it. You hold your head high.

Your Love Life Secrets, Revealed

I knew buying pets from pet stores was a bad idea, but I had no idea it was this bad:

Adopt animals, don’t buy them. (http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/g/a/2007/06/12/petscol.DTL)

Yet another article to make you ashamed of the human race.

Fuck you, Roy Pearson, FUCK YOU.

www.customcleanersdefensefund.com

I found an old blog entry a friend had written and commented on it without realizing he had written the post a year or two ago. I’m reposting my comment here:

A lot of people who would make great parents for the very reason that they fear becoming parents (recognizing what an important and life-consuming task it is) seem to be considering the option of remaining child-free. Let’s think about all these responsible human beings not spreading their genes or not taking part in raising the next generation of people. Now think about some of the types of people that have lots of kids. I’ve got in mind this woman who let her toddler run around on the freeway until the cops came, in particular. The very people that don’t understand that being a parent means living for someone else from now on are going to be populating our planet! That’s how I see things, however un-p.c. that is. Fearing the prospect of raising kids to me, is a sign that you might make an amazing parent, because you know the kind of self-sacrifice it takes. It also shows that you appreciate the sacrifices your parents have made for you.

I went home for lunch today. No one was home. I opened the refrigerator and a box leapt out and hit me on its trajectory out the door. Was I enraged because the box hit me? No. It startled me, but it didn’t enrage me. This is what enraged me: It hit the ground and exploded.
This box was special to me. First of all, it was from Jason. Second, it contained Godiva truffles.
Now half of the truffles were scattered in various spots of the kitchen floor, mostly in dusty corners and the dusty section underneath the refrigerator.

What did I do? I mentally swore as fiercely as I could. Then I picked up the pieces and dusted them off. This is important: I decided to keep them. But, I made sure to keep them on one particular side of the box so that I would remember to re-dust them before eating them.

What else did I do? I wrapped no less than 5 rubber bands around the box at perpendicular angles so that this incident would not be repeated.

I am now pissed twice.

I just wrote an entire post about how something that happened today that pissed me off, and the one time that I decided to click “Publish” and not “Save,” there was an error and my post disappeared completely. Once I calm down, I will attempt to write it again.

I hate it when I lose touch with people I really care about. My freshman year roommate, Susan Carville, was a random match through the Cal dorm system. I lucked out and she was incredibly considerate and we got along very well. Unfortunately, she rarely uses the computer (I don’t even think she has an email address), and I usually keep in touch with people through email. Neither of us had cell phones. When we moved out of the dorms, her family was changing residences that summer and she and I were both moving to new apartments, so both of our phone numbers were in a state of flux as well. Anyway, we lost touch, and I regret not making more of an effort to find her when I was at Cal. It seems like such a pathetic excuse: “I was busy.” No one should be too busy to keep in touch with their friends.

I lost touch with another pair of good friends at Columbia. Again, I met them in the dorms. The girl across the hall from me, Dawn Daniels, was a dead ringer for Anne Hathaway. She and her boyfriend, Ben Lewis (a cross between Michael Rappaport and Ethan Embry and bearing a close resemblance to my friend Mark Thomas, strangely), used to feed me and get me drunk on the weekends in Manhattan. I kept in touch with them when I was in New York, but after I moved to California, I stopped calling and when I finally remembered to try Ben’s cell (Dawn didn’t have one), the number had changed. I know they can’t reach me because I changed my number when I moved to California, too. Unbeknownst to me until a few weeks ago, I can’t access my columbia account through UNIX anymore, either, and guess which email addresses we used to keep in touch when knocking on each other’s doors didn’t work?

It’s a shame when being too wrapped up in your own trivial daily matters costs you a good friendship.

It seems only fitting to write about what I’m thankful for. This is worrisome for me, because I know minutes, hours, days, weeks, or months from now, I will think: “Goddammit! I left another thing out!” But if I can get at least 2 items down, I’ll be happy. Well, I’ve made some new friends since last Thanksgiving, and that’s definitely a reason to give thanks. I have still got great relationships with my family and friends; I’m in pretty good health; I worry a lot about what I’m going to do with my life, but at least I’m in a position to do something about it; I have been blessed with a more positive outlook on life and a stronger belief in the inherent good in people and their enduring love. I am blessed with constant reminders of the exciting world that’s out there and the fact that we have the option of exploring it.

I’m thankful for all of you: you’re part of the reason why I have so many reasons to be thankful.

I have friends who love finding opportunities to help others. I found some volunteer opportunities for those of you who haven’t been delegated too many cooking duties on Thursday.

The Greater West Hollywood Food Coalition: http://www.volunteermatch.org/orgs/org24093.html

Thanks to the Greater West Hollywood Food Coalition — a local charity geared toward helping the city’s growing homeless community — WeHo’s homeless are fed and clothed. (Each Wednesday, a team from UCLA gives out medications and referrals while volunteers distribute clothes and beds.) Lend a hand this Thursday as this nightly ritual expands, shuttling hundreds of homeless people to the Hard Rock Cafe for a holiday celebration that caters to their needs and encourages them to strive for bigger and better things. (JH)

Note: For information on volunteering, contact Doris Presley at 310.672.9961.

The Los Angeles Mission: http://www.losangelesmission.org/index.html

If you click around the site, you can find ways to donate your time and/or money.

These events (and their text descriptions) were delivered to my mailbox courtesy of Flavorpill.

On the forums, a friend of mine told us about a situation he was in. He found himself at a bar, talking to a girl, and he realized pretty quickly once she opened her mouth that he was no longer interested. His dilemma at the time was that he couldn’t find an “eject button.” People posted various suggestions for future use. I suggested clapping loudly every time she opens her mouth. Needless to say, it’s difficult to find an effective one that doesn’t brand you a jerk. Any suggestions? I’d also welcome any stories of past “eject buttons” you’ve used or witnessed.

… would you drive in the far left lane if you’re not going to top 30 mph in a 45mph zone and you were planning on making a right turn, anyway???

Well, here’s the inaugural entry of my first “real” blog. I think the point of this blog is really to keep me from whining every day to my friends to “update your blog already”. I’m sure they were sick of hearing that. That being said, I expect this blog to turn out somewhat like Reina’s, more of a record of what I did over the weekend and what is bugging me.

The thing that is bugging me right now is the release of the Foo Fighters‘ acoustic version (I doubt a studio version exists) of “Skin and Bones” on the radio. It is, in my opinion, the worst song Dave Grohl has ever written. I will concede that this still means “Skin and Bones” is better than about 85% of the rest of the music that gets airplay these days. Yes, by today’s standards, that song earns a B+. If Foo Fighters had been presented with a choice to release any one of their acoustic tour songs on the radio, why would they pick the one that sounds like it’s sung in monotone and ranges about 2 notes? Okay, once in a while, Dave mixes it up and raises his voice when he says (says, not sings) “skin”, but that’s about it. I refer to that song as “my bathroom song,” because I (very fortunately) chose to go to the bathroom during that song. At the Civic Theater, they do pipe the music down into the bathrooms, which was nice, and let me hear that I was not missing anything. I believe it was also during that song that Andrew chose to text Jason with a message akin to: Borrrrrrrrrr-ring. [Oh yeah, and someday I should start calling Andrew “Fletch,” since that’s what everyone else calls him, and because I know several guys named Andrew, but it doesn’t feel right to call him “Fletch” when I haven’t seen the movie yet. If I’m going to call him by a nickname, I should know what the name means.] Anyway, I don’t like “Skin and Bones”, but damnit, whenever Dave Grohl’s voice is on the radio, you listen! The sad thing is, the release of this single appears to be a promotion of the upcoming CD/DVD release of their acoustic performance at the Pantages, which I swore I would get (and probably eventually will), but when I hear that song on the radio over and over again, it makes me reluctant to invest in the whole show. I do hope that the DVD includes all the little stories and comments Dave makes throughout the concert, as those really added to the performance and intimacy of the venue.

My little rant on “Skin and Bones” is also heartfelt because EVERY SINGLE OTHER SONG is to be TREASURED. The Foo Fighters would be my favorite band of all time if I had to choose, and their acoustic tour just blew everyone away.