Have you ever stumbled off the sidewalk or into a complete stranger because somebody needed to sidewalk as a side"stay"? Have you been this insufferable individual? Take some time today to think about these instances and remember the following story. Sidewalks are meant for our safety, not our impending deaths. This is my story.
Today started off rather normally. I woke up, got dressed, contemplated dropping out and becoming a trophy wife, got it together, went to school, sat down in my first class, and decided I wanted a crossword puzzle to occupy that time between getting to school and my break (class). This is the point where I should have said, “You know what? I’ll wait and actually pay attention today.” I, however, did not and thus the horrors begin:
I retrieved my installment of the Red & Black and proceeded to continue back to my class. NBD, whatevs. While crossing the sidewalk, I narrowly escaped a sudden a premature death. This is a big deal. The way this sidewalk works, is that it’s large enough for trucks to drive up to make deliveries to the bookstore and other such places by the Zell B. Miller Learning Center and Tate II. SO, a FedEx truck was utilizing this function as per usual. Now, there was plenty of room for me to walk alongside the truck on the side walk and avoid having a me-shaped dent on the side of the truck. I decided that would be my course of action and turned onto the sidewalk with that plan in mind. About this time, a girl was approaching from the opposite direction so I stepped a little closer to the truck but still a safe distance to avoid bumping into her. But the Karma of courtesy was not on my side today.
You see, this girl thought that my desire to walk beside the truck instead of in front of its wheels of death was selfish compared to her need to walk in a serpentine fashion. As I stepped around said female, she takes a giant and over exaggerated step into my path forcing me within inches of this 5 mph death trap. I was terrified. I didn’t know what to do. I did some fancy footwork, ungraceful and choppy and probably dangerous for someone with my coordination. I made it out alive and endeavored to write about it. While I do celebrate my victory over this attempt on my life, I am still extremely bothered.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
What's Bothering Me Now: "Them"
What's Bothering Me Now? Them.
We all have heard of them. They get a lot of credit for a lot of things. Something grand happens, they did it. Something terrible happens, they are surely responsible. They say a lot of stuff too that is inspirational and wise. Here's the issue: WHO THE HECK ARE THEY???
Here are some examples of this frustrating concept:
"You know what they say,(insert inspirational cliche here)"
--1. I don't know what they say. Chances are that if I did in fact know what they said, the speaker would not be telling me because a. I would have already considered it or B. I don't care.
--2. Secondly, Who are they? If they are the Nazi party or Miley Cyrus, I'm not inclined to apply any of that nonsense to my life. But if it's someone like Solomon or God, I'm probably going to smile upon the cliche phrase and consider doodling it in my notes with a sunburst around it. Identifying the speaker is essential when your lack of creativity and wisdom is forcing you to quote others.
"They are (insert verbs)(direct/indirect object)"
--1. If this phrase is ever uttered, multiple people better be in the mix. That is what this phrase implies. For example, if someone tells me "they are pretty," I'm expecting at least 2 pretty people. If there is only one pretty person to whom you are referring, please indicate by using the less ambiguous "he" or "she" or actually using a name. It clarifies things.
--2. If multiple personalities are in question, by all means, use "they." I can prepare better for my interaction with "them" if I know ahead of time I might be meeting 6 different people embodied in one person. However, if "they" is used as the pronoun and one person shows up with only one personality, things could potentially be really awkward. You see, I will have assumed, because "they" was used and one person is in question, that multiple personalities exist and will therefore be quite uncomfortable in his or her presence.
I think all I'm asking for here is some reality/pronoun agreement. If you're trying to hide an identity by gender ambiguity, just say "this individual" or "someone." I will appreciate it thoroughly.
Now chances are, we are all going to slip up and refer to them again. Just think about this: do you want to be the one assumed to have multiple personalities? OR Do you want a whole bunch of people getting credit for what you've said?
AND when you're you are discussing how they fought the American Revolution, remember that chimpanzees can be given the pronoun "they" as well. Make sure it is super clear that the British and Americans are the subject.
Aerosmith's "I don't want to miss is a thing" is bothering me now too so I'm wrapping this up to change the song on my itunes.
We all have heard of them. They get a lot of credit for a lot of things. Something grand happens, they did it. Something terrible happens, they are surely responsible. They say a lot of stuff too that is inspirational and wise. Here's the issue: WHO THE HECK ARE THEY???
Here are some examples of this frustrating concept:
"You know what they say,(insert inspirational cliche here)"
--1. I don't know what they say. Chances are that if I did in fact know what they said, the speaker would not be telling me because a. I would have already considered it or B. I don't care.
--2. Secondly, Who are they? If they are the Nazi party or Miley Cyrus, I'm not inclined to apply any of that nonsense to my life. But if it's someone like Solomon or God, I'm probably going to smile upon the cliche phrase and consider doodling it in my notes with a sunburst around it. Identifying the speaker is essential when your lack of creativity and wisdom is forcing you to quote others.
"They are (insert verbs)(direct/indirect object)"
--1. If this phrase is ever uttered, multiple people better be in the mix. That is what this phrase implies. For example, if someone tells me "they are pretty," I'm expecting at least 2 pretty people. If there is only one pretty person to whom you are referring, please indicate by using the less ambiguous "he" or "she" or actually using a name. It clarifies things.
--2. If multiple personalities are in question, by all means, use "they." I can prepare better for my interaction with "them" if I know ahead of time I might be meeting 6 different people embodied in one person. However, if "they" is used as the pronoun and one person shows up with only one personality, things could potentially be really awkward. You see, I will have assumed, because "they" was used and one person is in question, that multiple personalities exist and will therefore be quite uncomfortable in his or her presence.
I think all I'm asking for here is some reality/pronoun agreement. If you're trying to hide an identity by gender ambiguity, just say "this individual" or "someone." I will appreciate it thoroughly.
Now chances are, we are all going to slip up and refer to them again. Just think about this: do you want to be the one assumed to have multiple personalities? OR Do you want a whole bunch of people getting credit for what you've said?
AND when you're you are discussing how they fought the American Revolution, remember that chimpanzees can be given the pronoun "they" as well. Make sure it is super clear that the British and Americans are the subject.
Aerosmith's "I don't want to miss is a thing" is bothering me now too so I'm wrapping this up to change the song on my itunes.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
What's Bothering Me Now: Watermelon, Hot Dogs, and Bananas
These are my three least favorite foods.
This summer, I have had a lot of experience around these vile foods. And as I cannot keep my distaste for these three items a secret, they have been used as weapons against my well-being. Luckily, hot dogs are gross to a lot of people so I'm not really venting about them. So I decided to break down why I don't like all three of these unnecessary foods.
1. Watermelon
First off, this is the worst to watch someone eat. You see, to me, the red part of the melon, the fruit, resembles the muscle on those skeletons in doctor's offices and almost every anatomy classroom. The ones that show the muscles of the human body. SO, when I see people taking a bite off of that triangular wedge it strongly screams of cannibalism. AND then to top it off, the juice runs down your fingers and drips on everything and that's just unnecessary. Now I'm not a hater only because of the relationship to eating a fellow human. The taste and texture and messy nature are three major strikes against the fruit. The taste, if you could call it that, is like drinking bubble gum flavored Crystal Lite that was watered down to feed the masses. Like there was enough flavor to make fruit for five but someone had dreams of grandeur and wanted to over compensate for something and made the thing large enough to feed an army of too-hungry-to-notice-the-lack-of-flavor peasants. Texture wise, it just feels off. Let's face it, if watermelon weren't a food, you'd use it to hold your needles. And the messy thing, well I really just don't like food dripping on me so that's all there is there.
2.Hot Dogs
Hot dogs are just awful. They look bad, they taste worse. Who knows what it is? that shiny exterior is sketchy. Apples are shiny too, but they occur that way in nature. The odor stimulates nothing but anger and the need to punch someone. They're just wrong. I don't know who created the hot dog, but when I finish my time machine, I plan to take a pack of hot dogs and force them down the inventor's throat and once they vomit up their claim to fame, I'm going to kick them in the face and request that they rethink the hot dog idea. I'll also suggest channeling that energy towards something like cancer cures or ridding the world of watermelon and bananas.
3. Bananas
These are the worst of the three. They have the whole taste and smell thing that makes me want to cry (life goal: stop saying that everything that irks me makes me want to cry). First, I'll analyze the taste. It's been a while (8th grade) since I had a banana. But if I recall that horrid morning on that Mission Trip in Alabama, it was awful. The taste is almost salty but wayyyyy too sweet. This tricky little piece of dump confuses your mouth. Let's now discuss the smell. I think it smells sour. That smell triggers my gag reflex. Bananas, the ultimate trickster, look pretty in regards to ripened yellow. But don't let that sunshine exterior fool you. They start off green and go to the lovely shade of yellow and then go brown. Most other fruits maintain one color until it's time to move on when the color goes to the bright light and the brownness takes over saying "we're finished." But not bananas. When they start going brown, we're still expected to eat these tubes of nastiness. They attract you in their youth with their smooth peels and bright yellow color, and then you open it. The shock should put us all in the hospital. Let's be real for a second, if you came across this crescent shaped minion just laying on the ground in some forest you'd avoid it at all cost. Your first thought isn't "let's eat it." A banana is not appealing. I've got my hunches about those bunches. Oh banana phone, you cannot sway me. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j5C6X9vOEkU
So that's what's bothering me now.
This summer, I have had a lot of experience around these vile foods. And as I cannot keep my distaste for these three items a secret, they have been used as weapons against my well-being. Luckily, hot dogs are gross to a lot of people so I'm not really venting about them. So I decided to break down why I don't like all three of these unnecessary foods.
1. Watermelon
First off, this is the worst to watch someone eat. You see, to me, the red part of the melon, the fruit, resembles the muscle on those skeletons in doctor's offices and almost every anatomy classroom. The ones that show the muscles of the human body. SO, when I see people taking a bite off of that triangular wedge it strongly screams of cannibalism. AND then to top it off, the juice runs down your fingers and drips on everything and that's just unnecessary. Now I'm not a hater only because of the relationship to eating a fellow human. The taste and texture and messy nature are three major strikes against the fruit. The taste, if you could call it that, is like drinking bubble gum flavored Crystal Lite that was watered down to feed the masses. Like there was enough flavor to make fruit for five but someone had dreams of grandeur and wanted to over compensate for something and made the thing large enough to feed an army of too-hungry-to-notice-the-lack-of-flavor peasants. Texture wise, it just feels off. Let's face it, if watermelon weren't a food, you'd use it to hold your needles. And the messy thing, well I really just don't like food dripping on me so that's all there is there.
2.Hot Dogs
Hot dogs are just awful. They look bad, they taste worse. Who knows what it is? that shiny exterior is sketchy. Apples are shiny too, but they occur that way in nature. The odor stimulates nothing but anger and the need to punch someone. They're just wrong. I don't know who created the hot dog, but when I finish my time machine, I plan to take a pack of hot dogs and force them down the inventor's throat and once they vomit up their claim to fame, I'm going to kick them in the face and request that they rethink the hot dog idea. I'll also suggest channeling that energy towards something like cancer cures or ridding the world of watermelon and bananas.
3. Bananas
These are the worst of the three. They have the whole taste and smell thing that makes me want to cry (life goal: stop saying that everything that irks me makes me want to cry). First, I'll analyze the taste. It's been a while (8th grade) since I had a banana. But if I recall that horrid morning on that Mission Trip in Alabama, it was awful. The taste is almost salty but wayyyyy too sweet. This tricky little piece of dump confuses your mouth. Let's now discuss the smell. I think it smells sour. That smell triggers my gag reflex. Bananas, the ultimate trickster, look pretty in regards to ripened yellow. But don't let that sunshine exterior fool you. They start off green and go to the lovely shade of yellow and then go brown. Most other fruits maintain one color until it's time to move on when the color goes to the bright light and the brownness takes over saying "we're finished." But not bananas. When they start going brown, we're still expected to eat these tubes of nastiness. They attract you in their youth with their smooth peels and bright yellow color, and then you open it. The shock should put us all in the hospital. Let's be real for a second, if you came across this crescent shaped minion just laying on the ground in some forest you'd avoid it at all cost. Your first thought isn't "let's eat it." A banana is not appealing. I've got my hunches about those bunches. Oh banana phone, you cannot sway me. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j5C6X9vOEkU
So that's what's bothering me now.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
What's Bothering Me Now: Borders Bookstore
SO, a few months ago, I trekked all the way to the Borders Bookstore on Alps Bridge Road, which with traffic is an ungodly 30 minute drive from my apartment in Athens. I was looking for some books for school and then I started looking around for books to read in the summer as I began to imagine the three weeks before camp when I could read whatever I wanted to. In an optimistic stupor, I bought Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre. This was of the Borders Classics collection so I thought, "Can't go wrong." OHHHH I was mistaken.
I started reading a little earlier this week and was bookin' through (pun intended). However, a few minutes ago, I encountered the worst situation I could think of! Dare I repeat it? I must. I made it all the way to page 408 and was forced to abruptly stop. Not by a telephone call, or a prior engagement, or a knock at the door, or the rants and requests of my mother, but because of the stupid book itself. The book thought I wanted to skip ahead to page 433. I mean who really cares about if Jane goes with St. John to India??? I was not really that interested. And the fact that page 433 starts with "Dead!" has nothing to do with my frustration, except that's the only thing that keeps me from freaking finishing the novel.
Now to kick me in the face after punching me in the stomach, the book goes from page 433 to 456 and then back to page 433 to repeat the whole last 25 pages of the book. So thankfully, I have the last 25 pages of the book twice which is really helpful because I STILL DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED FROM PAGE 408 TO PAGE 432.
EVEN BETTER, I leave on Saturday for my summer job at Camp Glisson. Unfortunately, you don't get a lot of reading time there so while I'm supposed to be packing tomorrow, I'll be sitting in the traffic of Barrett Parkway trying to get to the Borders by town center mall to exchange my copy of the book for a copy with pages 409-432. I also plan on finishing the book tomorrow so I might be going to camp with only the basics.
I've also been trying to figure out why Borders has allowed this tragic occurrence. I've worked out a few theories:
1) They want me to go insane wondering what happened and just buy a whole other book to finish my reading and have closure, so I won't wonder what could have been.
2) Barack Obama. This is my favorite theory. I haven't really developed it, but since all the teachers are getting fired on his watch and books and school go together, I figure there's a way to blame him.
3) The Oil Spill: I think that Borders ripped out pages of my book to send to the ocean to clog the leak. I realize I bought the book before the spill occurred and since this is a theory saying they're trying to fix it and ripped the pages out before the spill even happened, they probably started the spill so with this theory, we get to blame them for the oil spill and ruining the economy of the Gulf Coast...You're Welcome America. I figured it out.
4) The Trees have revolted. This final theory is that the trees that have been turned into paper have not lost their spirits. So the tree spirit has made the paper leak the spirit into the printing machine. This causes the printer to skip the 25 pages near the end of the book as a final act of revenge before completely dying out. This is their way of sticking it to the man...a strike of sorts.
Regardless of how this catastrophe has originated, I am upset, angry, frustrated, and EXTREMELY bothered.
I started reading a little earlier this week and was bookin' through (pun intended). However, a few minutes ago, I encountered the worst situation I could think of! Dare I repeat it? I must. I made it all the way to page 408 and was forced to abruptly stop. Not by a telephone call, or a prior engagement, or a knock at the door, or the rants and requests of my mother, but because of the stupid book itself. The book thought I wanted to skip ahead to page 433. I mean who really cares about if Jane goes with St. John to India??? I was not really that interested. And the fact that page 433 starts with "Dead!" has nothing to do with my frustration, except that's the only thing that keeps me from freaking finishing the novel.
Now to kick me in the face after punching me in the stomach, the book goes from page 433 to 456 and then back to page 433 to repeat the whole last 25 pages of the book. So thankfully, I have the last 25 pages of the book twice which is really helpful because I STILL DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED FROM PAGE 408 TO PAGE 432.
EVEN BETTER, I leave on Saturday for my summer job at Camp Glisson. Unfortunately, you don't get a lot of reading time there so while I'm supposed to be packing tomorrow, I'll be sitting in the traffic of Barrett Parkway trying to get to the Borders by town center mall to exchange my copy of the book for a copy with pages 409-432. I also plan on finishing the book tomorrow so I might be going to camp with only the basics.
I've also been trying to figure out why Borders has allowed this tragic occurrence. I've worked out a few theories:
1) They want me to go insane wondering what happened and just buy a whole other book to finish my reading and have closure, so I won't wonder what could have been.
2) Barack Obama. This is my favorite theory. I haven't really developed it, but since all the teachers are getting fired on his watch and books and school go together, I figure there's a way to blame him.
3) The Oil Spill: I think that Borders ripped out pages of my book to send to the ocean to clog the leak. I realize I bought the book before the spill occurred and since this is a theory saying they're trying to fix it and ripped the pages out before the spill even happened, they probably started the spill so with this theory, we get to blame them for the oil spill and ruining the economy of the Gulf Coast...You're Welcome America. I figured it out.
4) The Trees have revolted. This final theory is that the trees that have been turned into paper have not lost their spirits. So the tree spirit has made the paper leak the spirit into the printing machine. This causes the printer to skip the 25 pages near the end of the book as a final act of revenge before completely dying out. This is their way of sticking it to the man...a strike of sorts.
Regardless of how this catastrophe has originated, I am upset, angry, frustrated, and EXTREMELY bothered.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
What's Bothering Me Now: Zoo Atlanta
Zoo Atlanta has an upcoming event called Brew at the Zoo. For info, check this out:
http://www.zooatlanta.org/home/article_content/brew
Here’s my synopsis:
Basically, on May 29th (Saturday) at Zoo Atlanta, there is an event which includes a wine tasting and a variety of beers for taste at a beer festival.
Why this is bothering me has nothing to do with alcohol, and this blog post is not a commentary on drinking. It is, however, a commentary on drinking at the zoo. I know the zoo could be slightly boring for those over the age 10 regardless of my continuous entertainment through the years. BUT, the really good news for all of you is that you don’t have to go anymore. You can stay home, or, if homebody is not for you, there are really awesome sporting events where drinking is accepted and even expected. Turner Field (also in Atlanta) is a fantastic idea with $1 seats and the same heat at the zoo minus the smell of animal. My philosophy is that if you have to drink to enjoy something, don’t go, do something else.
My next point is:
Is it really a good idea to have a bunch of drunks wondering around the habitats of various animals in the wild? I mean after a sample of each different alcohol at Brew at the Zoo, it would seem that maybe that many drunks near the gorilla habitat might be hazardous. Where’s that great judgment when it comes to judging whether or not hopping in with Kudzoo and Olympia (those were the gorillas born when I was a kid)?
Next:
Parents. Mom and Dad bring the kids for a fun day at the zoo and end up tipsy because they really don’t want to be at the zoo. Mom pushes the stroller right into the door frame of the reptile house so the baby is delighting everyone with her cries. Dad stumbles into another drunk man’s woman so drunk man #2 thinks Dad’s hitting on her and a brawl breaks out right in front of the anaconda’s cage. Zoo rent-a-cops come, arrest Dad and other drunk guy, drunk mom is still consoling crying child, and anaconda is probably still chillin’.
Finally:
Clean-up. It’s summer. It’s Atlanta, GA. It’s freaking hot. I’ve been told the heat is not desirable when intoxicated. Plus, there are thousands of animals all over the place. These animals stink. So we’ve got stench, heat, and alcohol. Fun times. Good luck to whatever custodians get the responsibility of cleaning the zoo after the alcohol consumed ends up all over the sidewalks and in the habitats. AND, it’s not exactly fair to make the kids there walk around nearly stepping in vomit. They’re young and innocent for now, let them stay that way Zoo Atlanta.
I get that times are tough financially speaking. But maybe instead of keeping up the annual tradition of Brew at the Zoo, train a monkey to do some awesome things that people would want to see. Start a rumor about the pandas potentially having a baby or being moved. There are endless options. I think if you want to drink out in the heat that you should buy a $1 ticket to a Braves game. Buy a beer and a Hebrew International hot dog and a Jason Heyward t-shirt. Don’t risk becoming tiger bon bons or arrest or watching a child walk through your vomit.
Shame on you Zoo Atlanta.
http://www.zooatlanta.org/home/article_content/brew
Here’s my synopsis:
Basically, on May 29th (Saturday) at Zoo Atlanta, there is an event which includes a wine tasting and a variety of beers for taste at a beer festival.
Why this is bothering me has nothing to do with alcohol, and this blog post is not a commentary on drinking. It is, however, a commentary on drinking at the zoo. I know the zoo could be slightly boring for those over the age 10 regardless of my continuous entertainment through the years. BUT, the really good news for all of you is that you don’t have to go anymore. You can stay home, or, if homebody is not for you, there are really awesome sporting events where drinking is accepted and even expected. Turner Field (also in Atlanta) is a fantastic idea with $1 seats and the same heat at the zoo minus the smell of animal. My philosophy is that if you have to drink to enjoy something, don’t go, do something else.
My next point is:
Is it really a good idea to have a bunch of drunks wondering around the habitats of various animals in the wild? I mean after a sample of each different alcohol at Brew at the Zoo, it would seem that maybe that many drunks near the gorilla habitat might be hazardous. Where’s that great judgment when it comes to judging whether or not hopping in with Kudzoo and Olympia (those were the gorillas born when I was a kid)?
Next:
Parents. Mom and Dad bring the kids for a fun day at the zoo and end up tipsy because they really don’t want to be at the zoo. Mom pushes the stroller right into the door frame of the reptile house so the baby is delighting everyone with her cries. Dad stumbles into another drunk man’s woman so drunk man #2 thinks Dad’s hitting on her and a brawl breaks out right in front of the anaconda’s cage. Zoo rent-a-cops come, arrest Dad and other drunk guy, drunk mom is still consoling crying child, and anaconda is probably still chillin’.
Finally:
Clean-up. It’s summer. It’s Atlanta, GA. It’s freaking hot. I’ve been told the heat is not desirable when intoxicated. Plus, there are thousands of animals all over the place. These animals stink. So we’ve got stench, heat, and alcohol. Fun times. Good luck to whatever custodians get the responsibility of cleaning the zoo after the alcohol consumed ends up all over the sidewalks and in the habitats. AND, it’s not exactly fair to make the kids there walk around nearly stepping in vomit. They’re young and innocent for now, let them stay that way Zoo Atlanta.
I get that times are tough financially speaking. But maybe instead of keeping up the annual tradition of Brew at the Zoo, train a monkey to do some awesome things that people would want to see. Start a rumor about the pandas potentially having a baby or being moved. There are endless options. I think if you want to drink out in the heat that you should buy a $1 ticket to a Braves game. Buy a beer and a Hebrew International hot dog and a Jason Heyward t-shirt. Don’t risk becoming tiger bon bons or arrest or watching a child walk through your vomit.
Shame on you Zoo Atlanta.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
What's Bothering Me Now: Miley Cyrus
Watch then read:
http://www.eonline.com/uberblog/miley_cyrus/index.html
and an interview explaining the video:
http://www.eonline.com/videos/v53100_miley-spills-on-sexy-new-video.html
Basically, Miley's message is "Don't be tamed" or rather GO WILD!!!! So there you have it America's youth. If you want to prove that you are grown up and wish to do the things you want to do, you should just be crazy and then your parents and society will see you for the mature being you were aiming for:
For those who don't know me, I can get a bit crazy
Have to get my way, 24 hours a day
'Cause I'm hot like that
Every guy everywhere just gives me mad attention
Like I'm under inspection, I always get the 10s
'Cause I'm built like that
[anyone else suffocating from Miley's ego,one stanza in???]
I go through guys like money flyin' out their hands
They try to change me but they realize they can't
And every tomorrow is a day I never planned
If you're gonna be my man, understand
[Nick Jonas, Liam Hemsworth, Justin Gaston (side note--> both Liam and Justin have lived with the Cyrus family...PRESH!!) and yet somehow she has still changed...Hannah Montana RIP]
[Chorus]
I can't be tamed, I can't be saved
I can't be blamed, I can't, can't
I can't be tamed, I can't be changed
I can't be saved, I can't be (can't be)
I can't be tamed
[Neither could Britney..."My life has been so over protected" and she turned out just fine...What Up K-Fed?]
If I see my reflectiona bout my intentions
I'll tell ya I'm not here to sell ya
Or tell ya to get to hell
I'm like a puzzle but all of my pieces are jagged
If you can understand this, we can make some magic
I'm on like that
[Miley Cyrus said "Hell"]
I wanna fly I wanna drive I wanna go
[go where? rehab? because you're making great time.]
Best Wishes Miley, we're all rooting for you and hope that the grown up life treats you well. The good news is that celebrities get great rehab facilities and there's always celebrity fit club when the fab life goes straight to your hips.
Friday, April 30, 2010
What's Bothering Me Now: Arizona
Arizona
So, there's a new law in Arizona that requires any legal immigrant to carry their papers that declare them United States citizens. This of course opens the door for open racial profiling, and that is not what America is about.
INFO: (So you can be informed and make your own judgments)
http://www.nowpublic.com/world/arizona-passes-sb1070-immigration-bill-curb-illegal-immigrants
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/24/us/politics/24immig.html?scp=3&sq=Arizona%20immigration&st=cse
I've been defending America for years now. I still stand by the need for restricting illegal immigration, but Arizona, I don't know that I can support this. To prove this is ridiculous, I am going to lay out an alternative scenario:
Picture this-
You were born in Quebec, Canada. You are now living a boring and happy life in a small town in Maine delighting in Lobster and the everyday life of someone in Maine. Being from Quebec, you know French and English...really accomplished...more than most American's can say...Way To Go!! However, an American police officer, who is enjoying his glazed doughnut with Sprinkles and venti grande black coffee, overhears the "Bon Jour" and "au voir" and grabs the gun and frisk stick. He approaches you and asks for identification to prove the legality of your being in the US. You are out walking the dog without your wallet. SO, he gets to arrest you because you cannot prove at that instant that you are in the United States legally. So there goes your day until your also French speaking husband arrives with your ID and lets you out. BUT guess who left his ID at home??? Yep, your husband. So now he's sitting next to this guy who is makin' eyes at your man and thinking of all the fun they're going to have that night while you head back home to grab his ID. Once it is all settled and you get to your suburban home, guess who all has heard that you got arrested? Everyone. All the kids, all the adults, all the everybody. Who's trick-or-treating at your house this halloween when you and your husband have been in jail. Now your house is creepy and no matter how many times you explain that it was all a misunderstanding and that you weren't even charged with anything, your name is ruined and that local doctor who was going to hire you because you are bilingual and can help him with all his patients who might also be legally in the US from Quebec has decided he can't have someone who the people won't trust working for him. Ergo, your life is ruined because you know two languages and Officer McBiggieBritches got bored.
Is a native language that different from skin color. Why should we assume someone hopped the border illegally because they have a nice tan and speak a different language? It's ignorant so while it is important to crack down on immigration are we really going to regress back into racism and stereotypes? I hope not.
And if that's the case, why are we not questioning all the people who speak French or say "eh"? Why wouldn't Canadians try to sneak in illegally. I mean they can sneak over here just as easily as Hispanics can. However, we do not have little border patrol minute men watching the border to look for Canadians creeping in. of course, after Arizona's new law, who would want to?
So for your aural pleasure:
Daniel Tosh:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h9smjcsRtLA
And that is what's bothering me now.
So, there's a new law in Arizona that requires any legal immigrant to carry their papers that declare them United States citizens. This of course opens the door for open racial profiling, and that is not what America is about.
INFO: (So you can be informed and make your own judgments)
http://www.nowpublic.com/world/arizona-passes-sb1070-immigration-bill-curb-illegal-immigrants
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/24/us/politics/24immig.html?scp=3&sq=Arizona%20immigration&st=cse
I've been defending America for years now. I still stand by the need for restricting illegal immigration, but Arizona, I don't know that I can support this. To prove this is ridiculous, I am going to lay out an alternative scenario:
Picture this-
You were born in Quebec, Canada. You are now living a boring and happy life in a small town in Maine delighting in Lobster and the everyday life of someone in Maine. Being from Quebec, you know French and English...really accomplished...more than most American's can say...Way To Go!! However, an American police officer, who is enjoying his glazed doughnut with Sprinkles and venti grande black coffee, overhears the "Bon Jour" and "au voir" and grabs the gun and frisk stick. He approaches you and asks for identification to prove the legality of your being in the US. You are out walking the dog without your wallet. SO, he gets to arrest you because you cannot prove at that instant that you are in the United States legally. So there goes your day until your also French speaking husband arrives with your ID and lets you out. BUT guess who left his ID at home??? Yep, your husband. So now he's sitting next to this guy who is makin' eyes at your man and thinking of all the fun they're going to have that night while you head back home to grab his ID. Once it is all settled and you get to your suburban home, guess who all has heard that you got arrested? Everyone. All the kids, all the adults, all the everybody. Who's trick-or-treating at your house this halloween when you and your husband have been in jail. Now your house is creepy and no matter how many times you explain that it was all a misunderstanding and that you weren't even charged with anything, your name is ruined and that local doctor who was going to hire you because you are bilingual and can help him with all his patients who might also be legally in the US from Quebec has decided he can't have someone who the people won't trust working for him. Ergo, your life is ruined because you know two languages and Officer McBiggieBritches got bored.
Is a native language that different from skin color. Why should we assume someone hopped the border illegally because they have a nice tan and speak a different language? It's ignorant so while it is important to crack down on immigration are we really going to regress back into racism and stereotypes? I hope not.
And if that's the case, why are we not questioning all the people who speak French or say "eh"? Why wouldn't Canadians try to sneak in illegally. I mean they can sneak over here just as easily as Hispanics can. However, we do not have little border patrol minute men watching the border to look for Canadians creeping in. of course, after Arizona's new law, who would want to?
So for your aural pleasure:
Daniel Tosh:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h9smjcsRtLA
And that is what's bothering me now.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
What's Bothering Me Now: Pride and Prejudice
You read correctly, Pride and Prejudice.
For anyone who knows me, go ahead and pick up you jaw...the floor is nasty. For those of you ready to burn me at the stake...HEAR ME OUT!
I love Pride and Prejudice. Always will. Mr. Darcy has been giving me unreal expectations about love for years now. However, I think that's why it's bothering me.
I have watched it twice in the past 24 hours, read it twice in my life, read multiple versions of it (including Pride and Prejudice and Zombies) and every single time I finish, I'm left re-evaluating my life and trying to figure out why one earth I am not Elizabeth Bennet. I know me and Mr. Darcy would never work out. I know I am not Elizabeth Bennet by any stretch of the imagination. But why can't we have those 18th-19th century romances? Why am I not dating a Mr. Knightley or Mr. Darcy?
I'll tell you why, because Pride and Prejudice was written in the last years of the 18th century by a woman who knows what women want and who, well, to be frank, died alone. The writing is beautiful and stories are perfect. Everyone has to learn something, and the hero is never flawless. They seem so real. But they're not.
Who wants a real love story? I would love to be in 19th century England and have the mysterious and handsome Mr. Darcy look at me intently and tell me how ardently he admires and loves me. I'd like to take this moment to thank Jane Austen for ruining my life. But I think at the root of it, Pride and Prejudices shows us what we want and what I think we all deserve. To be wanted, to be desired and to be wanted and desired by someone who brings out the best in us.
Pride and Prejudice bothers me because it shows me how God intended relationships and how different that is from what it they have become. IT SHOULDN'T BE FICTION!!!
Girls, he wants you to be pursued. He did not make you so absolutely wonderful to just fall into the arms of the first who offers. He desires love for you, love like his love for you. He wants you to be able to call the guy a jerk and break his heart and ruin all hope for his future happiness and he still loves you. And you've got to admit when you're wrong and humbly apologize!
Guys! He wants you to pursue girls in a gentleman like manner. He wants you to love them like Christ loves the church even when they call you a jerk, break your heart and ruin all hope for your future happiness. Love them when they're wrong.
Guess What? It's those times when girls and guys alike will learn the most about themselves! AND you come out a better person because of it. Let's face it, everyone is always a little wrong.
But I DO want a real love story!!!!!!!!!
...and last night, I found hope. At Wesley, one of the interns sang a song for his wife. She had just finished her last round of chemo and was declared cancer free. During the offertory, he sang "You and Me" by Dave Matthews. It was absolutely beautiful. They hugged afterwards and it was the sweetest thing I have ever witnessed. I realized that is what love is. Real, pure, Godly love. So for a modern day Elizabeth and Darcy, not bad.
Moral of the story:
I think we all deserve our own Pride and Prejudice and we shouldn't give up hope on it because we don't understand each other. Apparently it's hard and it sucks but somehow worth it.
Which is good news because we can all love Pride and Prejudice and blame society for allowing us to feel like we deserve sucky love stories.
For anyone who knows me, go ahead and pick up you jaw...the floor is nasty. For those of you ready to burn me at the stake...HEAR ME OUT!
I love Pride and Prejudice. Always will. Mr. Darcy has been giving me unreal expectations about love for years now. However, I think that's why it's bothering me.
I have watched it twice in the past 24 hours, read it twice in my life, read multiple versions of it (including Pride and Prejudice and Zombies) and every single time I finish, I'm left re-evaluating my life and trying to figure out why one earth I am not Elizabeth Bennet. I know me and Mr. Darcy would never work out. I know I am not Elizabeth Bennet by any stretch of the imagination. But why can't we have those 18th-19th century romances? Why am I not dating a Mr. Knightley or Mr. Darcy?
I'll tell you why, because Pride and Prejudice was written in the last years of the 18th century by a woman who knows what women want and who, well, to be frank, died alone. The writing is beautiful and stories are perfect. Everyone has to learn something, and the hero is never flawless. They seem so real. But they're not.
Who wants a real love story? I would love to be in 19th century England and have the mysterious and handsome Mr. Darcy look at me intently and tell me how ardently he admires and loves me. I'd like to take this moment to thank Jane Austen for ruining my life. But I think at the root of it, Pride and Prejudices shows us what we want and what I think we all deserve. To be wanted, to be desired and to be wanted and desired by someone who brings out the best in us.
Pride and Prejudice bothers me because it shows me how God intended relationships and how different that is from what it they have become. IT SHOULDN'T BE FICTION!!!
Girls, he wants you to be pursued. He did not make you so absolutely wonderful to just fall into the arms of the first who offers. He desires love for you, love like his love for you. He wants you to be able to call the guy a jerk and break his heart and ruin all hope for his future happiness and he still loves you. And you've got to admit when you're wrong and humbly apologize!
Guys! He wants you to pursue girls in a gentleman like manner. He wants you to love them like Christ loves the church even when they call you a jerk, break your heart and ruin all hope for your future happiness. Love them when they're wrong.
Guess What? It's those times when girls and guys alike will learn the most about themselves! AND you come out a better person because of it. Let's face it, everyone is always a little wrong.
But I DO want a real love story!!!!!!!!!
...and last night, I found hope. At Wesley, one of the interns sang a song for his wife. She had just finished her last round of chemo and was declared cancer free. During the offertory, he sang "You and Me" by Dave Matthews. It was absolutely beautiful. They hugged afterwards and it was the sweetest thing I have ever witnessed. I realized that is what love is. Real, pure, Godly love. So for a modern day Elizabeth and Darcy, not bad.
Moral of the story:
I think we all deserve our own Pride and Prejudice and we shouldn't give up hope on it because we don't understand each other. Apparently it's hard and it sucks but somehow worth it.
Which is good news because we can all love Pride and Prejudice and blame society for allowing us to feel like we deserve sucky love stories.
Monday, April 19, 2010
What's Bothering Me Now: The United States Postal Service (USPS)
THE UNITED STATES POSTAL SERVICE (USPS)
For starters, ALWAYS always ALWAYS use FedEx or UPS when dealing with packages. It has come to my attention that the USPS cannot handle anything larger than a letter.
What can I say? Government run organizations are clearly only in existence to ruin the lives and happiness of others. At the DMV, they never smile at you as you walk in. I mean after all, for some people, the day they walk in there is the most exciting day of their lives and Franny-Frowns-A-Lot greets you at the desk with a noise rather than words yet seems to find those missing words when you don't understand her gestures...you know, enough to make you feel like you should not be allowed in public for your ignorance of gruntish (that is a language commonly used by people who hate their lives and wish to inaugurate you into their life of frustration and no high school diploma). But this post is not about the DMV. No. This is much more awful than the snarl and verbal beating you receive when getting your license. This is about the postal service. Rain, sleet, or snow. Maybe it means to get your package, you need any of three or a combination of them to get it. Maybe their trucks do not operate on the dry pavement and the sunshine is too blinding and hopeful to allow the government paid employees into the elements. I do not know, but here is my story:
It was a crisp cool evening in March. I had been searching for days for the most beautiful and practical purse I had ever seen. I finally found it for a great price and could not resist the purchase. I finished all the payment information and went to boast of my internet adventure's success. I received an email the following morning telling me the package had been sent through the United States Postal Service. I was on the wings of love. I was triumphant, even. I saved the email so I could start tracking my prize...watch it's journey through sunshine and potential rain and maybe a light breeze until it landed safely in my arms. I had a skip in my step and a song on my heart. The fateful day arrived when the tracking website said it had arrived in my city. OH THE JOY!!!!!!!! OH THE THRILL!!! I wanted to cartwheel and flip and put my old wallet in my new purse. But alas! it never came.
I waited the whole week. nothing. not a sign, not a trace, not a whisper. I started to worry. What if it fell off of the truck? What if some girl had it and was parading my treasure around campus? I had to do something. I waited a few more days, my hope in the government system still quivering. I called. They answered. They seemed polite, but it was all a joke. They told me procedure, I followed. They transfered me to different people, they all listened but none helped. My hope was sinking. I finally got a life preserver though!! They said they knew where it would be and would call me back when the supervisor could talk to me. I waited another two days. NOTHING!!!! My hope began to falter, waves of doubt and horror crashed over me as my raft began to sink. I called back. again, and again, and again. nothing at all. I left 3 voicemails. nothing. I was hurt. The world became gray, the sun refused to shine, a little cloud of depression followed me. It had been almost a month since my little darling package had been sent.
Finally, I got in touch with someone. No one called back, my persistence won. The woman told me they didn't have it. After calling some places and other stuff, she said it was not there. She told me they did everything right. Apparently, if they don't feel like delivering your package they don't have to. They don't have to tell you they stopped by or give it to the front office of your apartment. They get to hang on to it. The best part about the USPS is that if the intended receiver does not claim the package they send it back in 15 days. This way, everyone is happy. Except all the people who don't get their packages and are now out of $25.00.
So, I'm a little bothered. A little hurt. A little angry. Luckily we have a president who is all about Hope and Change so maybe, just maybe, I'll get my purse...someday, somehow. But he plans to fix it like health care, I will have graduated college and have paid 500 times more than what the purse is worth when it finally gets here and my heart will be happy again, my soul will be less gray, and maybe the sun will shine a little brighter. Next time, I'll ask myself, What can Brown do for you? (UPS)
And that's what's bothering me now.
For starters, ALWAYS always ALWAYS use FedEx or UPS when dealing with packages. It has come to my attention that the USPS cannot handle anything larger than a letter.
What can I say? Government run organizations are clearly only in existence to ruin the lives and happiness of others. At the DMV, they never smile at you as you walk in. I mean after all, for some people, the day they walk in there is the most exciting day of their lives and Franny-Frowns-A-Lot greets you at the desk with a noise rather than words yet seems to find those missing words when you don't understand her gestures...you know, enough to make you feel like you should not be allowed in public for your ignorance of gruntish (that is a language commonly used by people who hate their lives and wish to inaugurate you into their life of frustration and no high school diploma). But this post is not about the DMV. No. This is much more awful than the snarl and verbal beating you receive when getting your license. This is about the postal service. Rain, sleet, or snow. Maybe it means to get your package, you need any of three or a combination of them to get it. Maybe their trucks do not operate on the dry pavement and the sunshine is too blinding and hopeful to allow the government paid employees into the elements. I do not know, but here is my story:
It was a crisp cool evening in March. I had been searching for days for the most beautiful and practical purse I had ever seen. I finally found it for a great price and could not resist the purchase. I finished all the payment information and went to boast of my internet adventure's success. I received an email the following morning telling me the package had been sent through the United States Postal Service. I was on the wings of love. I was triumphant, even. I saved the email so I could start tracking my prize...watch it's journey through sunshine and potential rain and maybe a light breeze until it landed safely in my arms. I had a skip in my step and a song on my heart. The fateful day arrived when the tracking website said it had arrived in my city. OH THE JOY!!!!!!!! OH THE THRILL!!! I wanted to cartwheel and flip and put my old wallet in my new purse. But alas! it never came.
I waited the whole week. nothing. not a sign, not a trace, not a whisper. I started to worry. What if it fell off of the truck? What if some girl had it and was parading my treasure around campus? I had to do something. I waited a few more days, my hope in the government system still quivering. I called. They answered. They seemed polite, but it was all a joke. They told me procedure, I followed. They transfered me to different people, they all listened but none helped. My hope was sinking. I finally got a life preserver though!! They said they knew where it would be and would call me back when the supervisor could talk to me. I waited another two days. NOTHING!!!! My hope began to falter, waves of doubt and horror crashed over me as my raft began to sink. I called back. again, and again, and again. nothing at all. I left 3 voicemails. nothing. I was hurt. The world became gray, the sun refused to shine, a little cloud of depression followed me. It had been almost a month since my little darling package had been sent.
Finally, I got in touch with someone. No one called back, my persistence won. The woman told me they didn't have it. After calling some places and other stuff, she said it was not there. She told me they did everything right. Apparently, if they don't feel like delivering your package they don't have to. They don't have to tell you they stopped by or give it to the front office of your apartment. They get to hang on to it. The best part about the USPS is that if the intended receiver does not claim the package they send it back in 15 days. This way, everyone is happy. Except all the people who don't get their packages and are now out of $25.00.
So, I'm a little bothered. A little hurt. A little angry. Luckily we have a president who is all about Hope and Change so maybe, just maybe, I'll get my purse...someday, somehow. But he plans to fix it like health care, I will have graduated college and have paid 500 times more than what the purse is worth when it finally gets here and my heart will be happy again, my soul will be less gray, and maybe the sun will shine a little brighter. Next time, I'll ask myself, What can Brown do for you? (UPS)
And that's what's bothering me now.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
What's Bothering Me Now
I jumped on the blog-wagon. I want to be in the world of communications, preferably Public Relations, but am currently a Magazines major at the University of Georgia. Basically, I need a medium to express the multiple things I see in a day that irk me or make me wonder if certain people should be allowed to reproduce. While some posts might seem satirical (which they probably are), others might actually be of a serious nature as I do care about the world. This is about what bothers ME! Not anyone else, so try not to take offence. I do not plan to be politically correct or too personal, so enjoy my thoughts. So for the first post:
What's bothering me now
Higher Education
Twas two weeks before finals and all through the town
Not a student was sleeping; sun up to sun down
The teachers were assigning tests, projects and essays
with hopes that their pupils would soon go insane.
The students stayed up and wrote and read
While visions of failure danced in their heads
If I had just done beauty school or married rich
I wouldn't be studying but alas! Life's a Bitch.
It's just really annoying when you've paid so many dollars
While your back starts to curve from sitting from hours.
They charge and charge you and charge you again
to not use things and do things; such good friends.
So now that I've vented and spoken my peace
I've got to get writing so blogging must cease
and Though I have no I idea how
That's the first post of what's bothering me now.
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