Category: Not awesome

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"Other people" Being a girl cars Nonfiction Not awesome

A Dashed-Off Motorcycle Rant

Today I saw a motorcycle zoom all the way up a line of traffic waiting at a stop light, cut into the left turn lane (which was actually in the process of turning), weave to the inside of the lane, and then flip a u-turn and speed away.

Why are motorcycles allowed to break traffic laws and behave carelessly? It’s just a question I have.

The way I understand it is that at one point in history, the motorcycle engines were cooled by air, so that’s why they were allowed to weave between stop-and-go traffic – because if they also had to sit and wait (heaven forbid) then their engines would overheat. But – the way I understand it – air-cooling is not the case anymore.

It’s not the egregious speeding on open freeways that bothers me. It’s not the weaving through stopped traffic – I mean, we’d all do that if we could, am I right? But when traffic is traveling, but slightly heavy, I still see motorcycles cutting dangerously close to other cars, and that bothers me. Because if you cut in toward a car in front of me, and that car swerves a little and knocks you into my lane, and you end up flying into my windshield, I’m going to be traumatized for life, and possibly injured.

Okay. That’s all I wanted to say. Motorcycles, I think you look dangerous, albeit sort of cool. But not cool enough to make it okay for you to traumatize and possibly injure me.

Update: Open Letters, a (hilarious) tumblr of open letters to randoms, totally did a motorcycle one a month ago, LOL.

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"Other people" Children Drew Not awesome Theatre

Bring It On: The Musical

Last night Drew and I went to see Bring It On – the musical with the same title of, but not based on, the movie. It’s at the Orpheum Theatre in San Francisco, which has an awesome ceiling.

I have been equating Bring It On with Legally Blonde – both fluffy musicals about blonde girls with more depth than it first appears. I mean, that’s what I assumed.

Here’s what I have to say about the show:

I liked it. The music and lyrics were co-written by Lin-Manuel Miranda, who did In the Heights, which is one of my top 5 all time favorite shows. The direction and choreography (some of which was truly amazing) is by Andy Blankenbuehler, who also did the choreography for In the Heights. I was fascinated by some of the cheerleading stunts. I laughed at jokes. I enjoyed the songs. I understand that I’m not supposed to take any existential meaning from it. I would fully recommend the show to…anyone. I want the cast recording (which apparently doesn’t exist as of yet).

But.

Last night was the press opening (which we didn’t know) and they had papered the house with high school students. In the mezzanine there was a large group of students chanting and cheering before the show started. Right after 8:00 (the show started about 10 minutes late) a group of like 8 14-year-olds girls (and one androgynous 14-year-old) came in and sat down in the seats next to us. Here’s what I have to say about them:

I don’t think there was one moment that they all had their phones closed. They were constantly checking their phones, needing to fish things out of plastic bags wrapped in other plastic bags, bouncing in their seats and looking down into the mezz, and – the worst of all – straight up talking to each other.

After the first five minutes or so of this, Drew and I staringly got their attention and it might be true that I slashed my finger across my throat and said “KNOCK IT OFF” in a loud whisper. I spent the next five minutes worried that it was too harsh, but I needn’t have worried. They didn’t care. They continued to talk through the entire 2 and a half hour show.

At intermission and after the show, Drew and I were ranting about them, and as we calmed down he wondered whether we were just annoyed too easily. After all, all kinds of things are annoying: the car in front of us in line bouncing on their brake lights, the ushers’ lackadaisical, “Hey, no pictures…we just have a couple rules” as he walks away.

But I think no. I think that there are little everyday annoyances that you go, “This is so frustrating!” and then get over. And then there are the rude, unchaperoned, socially-unaware teenagers who literally don’t care that you’re sitting next to them staring at them because they are having a conversation during a show. A show that we a lot of people around them paid a lot of money to see.

On the way home, Drew and I vowed that our children will never behave that way. Because we will kill them if they do.

So okay. So Bring It On was great. But teenagers are not. But if you’re in SF and contemplating it – go see it! Super fun.

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Being a girl Nonfiction Not awesome Self improvement

A Victory in Battle

I can trend towards germophobia. I’m much, much better than I was in New York (“oh no germs everywhere!”) but I still wash my hands a lot and I don’t like touching door handles and I take my shoes off at home and I purell everything after putting gas in the car.

But every so often, a lightbulb comes on over my head and I realize some thing I do every day is probably totally covered in germs.

Communal M&M bowl at work, with everyone’s fingers in it all day? Oops. (But come on…cinnamon M&Ms!)

The lock on a bathroom stall – you wouldn’t believe how long it took me to process that this is not just touched by me when I come in with clean hands…but by everyone leaving the stall, who invariably all have disgusting germy hands!

And my latest one, that I really just realized yesterday: Coke cans.

It looks so smug. But I know the truth now.

That lip you drink from, where drops of soda always collect…I mean, who hasn’t grabbed a can of Coke at a picnic and wiped off that part, because it’s dusty or damp with condensation or it’s just a force of habit? But yesterday I realized – that is a part of the OUTSIDE of the can. That part is exposed to the world, to the factory machines, to grimy people handling it, to dogs…maybe licking it? Maybe? Who knows what’s been happening to it in the time it took for this can to get from the factory to the Jolly King liquor store where I bought it?

 On the other hand, I’m also aware that you need to come in contact with germs on a regular basis in order to keep your immune system healthy.
 
So I drank that entire can. And I loved it. And it made me strong.
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"Other people" Children Nonfiction Not awesome Self improvement

It’s Either This, or the Plague

You’ve probably heard that Earth recently welcomed its 7 billionth person. Not of all time. But at one time. You’ve also probably heard that in 1950, the world population was about 2.5 billion. That’s a 4.5 billion people growth in 60 years. Perhaps then you’ve also heard that the UN projected world population of 2050 is between 7.5 and 10.5 billion.

Where are these people going to go? I ask myself. Also, Is this going to trigger Nature to do something to help control population growth, a la Stephen King’s The Stand? And finally, How did we let this happen??

Well…I think I know how. In many parts of the world, thanks to society and forward-thinking and liberation, we have very specific views on sex and childbirth. Namely, that both are A-OK no matter what your status in life – age, marital status, finances, etc.

This is where I’m going to tread semi-carefully, because I definitely know people who have gotten pregnant out of wedlock and who have loved and cherished their babies and raised them up (or are in the process of raising them up) to be decent, upstanding, hardworking people.

BUT. The way I understand it – and I wasn’t there; I could be wrong – in the 1950s and before, you just didn’t start having sex with your boyfriend when you were 15 and then accidentally get knocked up before you graduated high school and then keep the baby because you can make your own choices about your own body. But these days…that’s par for the course. Now take that one scenario and multiply it by a billion. Then multiply that again for all those second children that those people just have to have because they love their first one so much. And plus, you know, they already have the first one…

It gets glamorized, being a young mother, on shows like Teen Mom and True Life. Film crews romanticize having a ton of children, on Table for 12, 19 Kids and Counting (don’t get me started on Michelle Duggar being pregnant with #20), Raising Sextuplets, etc. Moms who get artificially knocked up with multiples that come in potentially unsafe droves become celebrities – Kate Gosselin, Nadia Sulemon.

The TV personalities – they aren’t really any of my business. I don’t watch those shows (well…I used to watch Jon & Kate Plus 8 back when it was innovative and sweet) and I ignore the “celebs.” But then I start thinking about them in terms of the population growth, and it just irritates me.

There’s something I like about the idea that each couple on earth gets 2 kids – one to replace each of them. But if one couple is out there having 8, or 12, or 20 kids – well, that’s just greedy.

And the 20-somethings out there, each with their own kid or two, will one day meet and fall in love with someone, who also has his or her own kids. And then they’ll come together and have to have more kids, as proof of their love…or of their total inability to grasp the concept of birth control.

What annoys me is that I want a family someday soon. I don’t want 12 or 15 or 20 kids. I just want one or two. And I resent that here I sit, thinking about the world population and wanting to do my part to reduce growth and help the human race avoid apocalypse – but oops! Here’s one more 19-year-old on Facebook, spilling her guts about accidentally getting pregnant. Or oops! One more 40-something celebrity pretending it’s just an unexpected blessing, when really she went through a bunch of medical treatments, because she just had to have a fourth child.

I think we – as a society – need to get back that some of that healthy shame about sex. It needs to not be totally acceptable for 14-year-olds to be doing it, and maybe some people should get shipped off to visit their spinster aunt to cover up their pregnancy, or something. (Cross my heart, this is hypothetical.)

On the other hand, I’m also advocating for more accessible birth control – possibly just pumped into the water? Because even in my heightened state of anger here (yeah, I think I’ve actually reached the anger stage), I know that I can’t stop a couple billion teenagers from losing themselves in the moment, or however we’re going to justify this. (But seriously, pumping something into the water – that’s not a bad idea.)

I’m not saying this only out of a selfish place. I’m just thinking of the human race and what’s best for us. Surely we don’t want to bring on a plague or an epidemic or something, just because everyone forgot to buy condoms? And also somehow forgot to use a backup method? (Use a backup method, people!)

The way to fix all the world’s problems can be summed up into, “Everyone take some responsibility.” Everyone: just take some freaking responsibility. Lest we reach a point in society where the government just randomly (?) sterilizes a percentage of the population.

Parents – don’t give your 14-year-old the freedom to start having sex.
TLC – stop showing shows that promote getting as much use out of your uterus as you possibly can: just because you have one doesn’t mean it needs to be in constant rotation.
Kids – save yourselves, if not for marriage, at least for love. And if you can’t do that, then get thee to Planned Parenthood.

I’m just trying to ensure space for a couple of my own offspring one day, okay?

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"Other people" cars Drew Family Memoir Not awesome

The Family That Does Roadside Maintenance Together…

I left work about 20 minutes early today. I had reached a natural stopping point in my workload, and I thought, What a lovely, productive Monday it’s been. Drew was waiting at home with sandwiches for dinner, and Erin was to be coming over later for some Game of Thrones. Wonderful.

As I drove home, I called my mom. I didn’t call her back yesterday, and I wanted to catch up and discuss coming home for a visit. While on the phone with her, I mentioned I was in the car and that it had been shaking just lately, and what did she think that was? She suggested something to do with bearings. I agreed.

I continued my drive home, which, for once, was relatively low-traffic. I was pretty happy. Mellow conversation with mom, and, like I said, the promise of sandwiches.

Suddenly, a large low sound from the rear left side of the car, and then insane thunking noises. I said, “Mom? I have to go. Um…I have to call you back,” and hung up while moving swiftly through three lanes of traffic and pulling off on the very soft shoulder.

A tire blowout! That explains a) the shaking, and possibly b) the random noise that Jonathan and I heard last Friday while we were driving around doing work errands. We checked all four tires and couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, so we finally decided that something had fallen out of the sky (or from an overpass) and that was the noise.

But now it appeared that it was a tire problem even then. And I really didn’t drive the car at all since Friday afternoon, which I guess is lucky.

Drew came and changed the tire – but when we got in our cars to leave, he found that his battery was dead! I backed up my car level with his to give him a jump.

As I backed up, I ran over a sprinkler pipe sticking out of the ground, and it made the most godawful scraping sound. I pulled forward again – cue second scraping sound. Jeez louise.

We hooked up the jumper cables and did our best to get his engine to start, but no dice. He called his dad – who knows everything about cars – to ask for advice, but there was really nothing he could tell us over the phone. So then we both sat in my car and waited for his dad to show up.

“On my 280 commute, there’s always at least one car pulled over with its hazards on,” I said. “And every time I see that car, I’m thankful it’s not me. But I guess sometimes you have to take one for the team.”

“Yeah,” Drew said, “but if this is the worst thing that happens to us, then that’s pretty good.”

Luckily, I was very close to home when my tire blew.

When Drew’s dad showed up, he somehow managed to find the sprinkler head in the dirt behind my car, even though it was pitch black out there and practically in the bushes. “Just leave it,” I said, and he laughed at me.

He hooked up Drew’s battery to a magic portable battery and got the car started in seconds. Then we packed away everything and all three pulled onto the freeway to head for home.

On the way, we passed a car on the side of the road, with its hazards on. A minute later I got a frantic call asking, “That wasn’t you, was it??” But I was practically home, safe on my sturdy little spare tire.

So I guess tomorrow I’m making a pre-work Firestone run. And I guess I’m forking over the money for a new tire. And I feel grateful that the shaking mystery is solved. And that all three of us got off the pitch black side of the freeway safely.

What I learned: The best thing to do in an emergency is remain calm. I should probably just change my own tire, rather than making someone come all the way out and drain his battery to do it for me. And stuff probably doesn’t fall out of the sky to cause weird noises with your car.

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Books Drew Not awesome Writing

Where I criticize a published writer, but by what right?

So, this is the first time in 2011 that I went over 7 days without posting. It’s been busy here, y’all.

I’ve been reading, among other books, this book that I got at the Palo Alto Borders at like 90% off right before they closed. It’s a paperback thriller by an author that I have been reading for years. I have about half a dozen of his books that I adore, and have read over and over again. I would definitely admit to liking this author.

I bought this 90% off book because it’s from the early 90s (I like his late 80s-early 90s stuff the best), and I thought it sounded promising. But it’s like, in 1992, something weird happened in this guy’s head and everything just got super purple.

Here are a couple passages to make my point:

“When Redlow regained consciousness, his assorted pains were so bad, they took one hundred percent of his attention. He had a violent headache to which he could have testified with such feeling in a television commercial that they would have been forced to open new aspirin factories to meet the consumer response.” WTF.

“Later, on their way from the Haunted House to an attraction called Swamp Creature, they stopped at a stand sellling blocks of ice cream dipped in chocolate and rolled in crushed nuts.” You mean an ice cream bar? Why not just say “ice cream bars”?

“Well, if she did cry, her treacherous sinuses would kick in, and the old snot-faucet would start gushing, whcih would surely make her even more appealing. He’d give up the idea of a leisurely drive, and head for home at such tremendous speed that he’d have to stand on the brakes a mile from the house to avoid shooting straight through the back of the garage.” Puuuuurple!

I mean, what is going on here? This doesn’t even feel like the same guy. Maybe someone else did this one for him? Or maybe, as Drew suggested, he had a word quota to meet? Despite all that, I’m still reading it eagerly and I have no idea what’s going to happen in the end, so that’s fun.

NaNoWriMo starts next week, and I am getting a little anxious. I knew that Oct 1 – Nov 15 was going to be a crazy busy time. I’m just glad that we’re nearing the end of it.

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Nonfiction Not awesome

Fail/winning

I’m just barely missing all my big milestones!

-2 years back in California (July 24th)
-200,000 miles on my car (I’m a couple hundred past it)
-15,000 blog views (15,146 now)

All good things to celebrate – all things I let sneak past me.

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Not awesome Work

The tin is there to hold in the spam – potpourri

I just noticed this comment in my spam filter:

Nice read, I just passed this onto a colleague who was doing a little research on that. And he just bought me lunch as I found it for him smile Thus let me rephrase that: Thanks for lunch! “England and America are two countries separated by the same language.” by George Bernard Shaw.

This person had googled “parachuting dogs” and found my 60s post. So I guess it might not be spam.

I don’t know what I’ve been doing lately, but it hasn’t been writing. Or going to the gym. But I definitely feel like I’ve been busy!

I did just finish The Help last night, and I loved it and would highly recommend it to all. Next up on my reading list is Bossypants by Tina Fey.

Last Friday we saw Tales of the City at ACT in San Francisco – I really enjoyed the show. But I think their marketing is bad. Based on the poster, I was picturing a 40s film noir, not a musical, and really boring. But the show reminds me of nothing more than The Wedding Singer – totally fun, funny, entertaining, and the 3 hours flies by. I’m really glad we went before it closes (this weekend). It definitely feels like a new musical – there is work they can do on it – but I had a great time.

On Saturday I got to go shopping for bridesmaid dresses for the second wedding I’m in this fall. It went well, and we picked a dress that all three bridesmaids can wear. So that feels like a good accomplishment.

On Sunday I went to Lakeport for the afternoon to hang out with my parents, and they bought me lunch, but then they tricked me and had me go through about seven boxes of Stuff From My Past. I thought that would be it, but apparently there is still more. Sheesh.

BUT, this means I am rife with poetry from middle school, and embarrassing adolescent pictures. Also plenty of pictures of cats. We had A LOT of cats. Anyway, there is blog fodder in there, I know it.

Categories
Exercise Not awesome

My road of good intentions

Monday afternoon: I download the 24 Hour Fitness app and scroll through my gym’s class schedule. I make a list of classes to take this week. Monday evening: Power Sculpt. Tuesday morning: Pilates. Thursday afternoon: 24 Cycle.

Monday evening: I head out for Power Sculpt at 7:30. At 7:45 they announce they can’t find the instructor. I go home.

Tuesday morning: I head out for Pilates Fusion. Pilates Fusion kinda kicks my butt. I sign up for Thursday cycling class.

Tuesday afternoon: I announce I have to leave early on Thursday (around 4:30) for my 5:30 class.

Wednesday: I feel kind of shaky all day.

Thursday morning: I remember something I have to do at work that needs to be done TODAY. I spend all day working on it. Around 3:00 I finish and then start my regular work. Around 3:45 I realize I’m not making it to that class.

Thursday evening: Head straight home and into pajamas. Figure I will try again later.

I tried, y’all. I tried! I wish they had cycling class at another time rather than 5:30 in the morning and 5:30 in the evening…

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"Other people" My name Not awesome Technology

Day 8: Wrong number

Another phone call from a 916- number.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is Joe there?”

“Nope, you’ve got the wrong number. Again.” (This is the third day in a row.)

“Oh, sorry, I’ll, uh, I’ll call another number.” Click.

…That is a great idea!