Age Ain't Nothing But a Number...That I'm Going to Choose

My 25^th year was a rough one. In May, one of my good friends died in an awful car accident. In June, I quit my job at a newspaper and went back to Starbucks full time. In November, my dad passed away. In March, my best friend’s boyfriend passed away.

Not to say that good stuff didn’t happen, but for the most part, it was an awful year. Therefore, when it came time at the end of April for the big 2-6, I said I didn’t want to be 26. Not that I have anything against that number in general, but I don’t feel 26. Plus, I didn’t really get a chance to be 25 because I was too busy with all the funerals and job and soul searching. So, I decided that I wasn’t going to be 26. I was going to be 25-again.

As it turns out, when I tell people I am 25 again, they either get the joke and think I’m funny, or they think I am one of those sad women who think that my value is somehow tied to my age. Or they just think I’m crazy.

One person flat out told me I wasn’t allowed to do it. That it didn’t make sense and I can’t go back in time. I won’t say he got a little hot about it, but there may have been a bit of redness in the facial area. He said that I need to accept that everyone has years that aren’t as good as others and I just need to look forward to having many more amazing years ahead of me. Thanks Positive Paul, but this isn’t about being negative.

It’s like when you go to a restaurant for the first time. If you have a bad experience the first time, in order to truly judge it, you need to give it one more try. (Unless the first time ends in food poisoning. If it does, just don’t ever go back.) Sometimes just your server is bad or you order the wrong dish. But, if it’s still bad after the second try, the restaurant really is awful and you shouldn’t go back. It’s the same with age. I had a rough time with 25 the first time around, so I want to do it again to see if it was just a bad first run or if 25 just sucks in general.

When I told someone else this theory, they asked me why I didn’t just do 2010 over again. That’s because the whole world is run by a certain calendar and therefore I would need the whole world to agree to change back to 2010. Even with Facebook, I don’t think I could get the entire world to go with me on it. (Although it would be tempting to try) Plus, a few of the bad things happened in 2011, so it really isn’t fair to the first 4 months and 29 days of 2010.

So far, I have to say, 25-again has treated me well. I moved into a new apartment and I got a promotion, plus I have three weddings to attend. (And hopefully no funerals.) I’m not saying that it’s not going to be without it’s challenges and struggles, but I think 25-again will a good year. Like the blimp.

Art Imitating My Life a Little too Closely

I have always been an “escapist” when it comes to TV. I watch because I don’t want to think about my life for a 30-minute period. I watch because I want to laugh when my life really isn’t that funny. I watch because sometimes I know that, for the most part, my life is incredibly different from the characters on the show.

Anyone who knows me knows that my favorite TV show on right now is How I Met Your Mother. It’s hysterical and all the actors are fun to watch and, honestly, my goal is to play, “Hi! Have you met Ted?” with one of my single friends. However, this season, they have taken a direction I am not exactly enjoying.

Let’s back up a little bit.

My favorite character on the show is Marshall. I think a lot of it has to do with his unfailing belief that he and Lily (his college sweetheart and wife) belong together (I have a soft spot for love stories. Don’t make a thing about it.). He is constantly striving to be a better man and follow his dreams, even if he has to take a few detours. Plus, he believes in the Sasquatch. This season, they really emphasized how close Marshall is with his father, which may have frustrated Lily, but it made me feel closer to his character. While I enjoy Barney’s antics and the constant embarrassment of Robin’s past, Marshall has always been the most endearing to watch.

I really was loving this season until the episode that aired January 3, when the writers and producers of my favorite show decided that art should imitate life. More specifically, by having art that I enjoy as a way to escape my life, imitate my life. At the end of “Bad Days,” Marshall finds out that his dad has died.

Ok, so I realize that the writers and producers of How I Met Your Mother were not specifically targeting me by having Marshall’s dad pass away. I also think that this is a great opportunity for Jason Segel (who I officially have a crush on… but that’s more Forgetting Sarah Marshall based) to show what he can do as an actor. It also gives the show something truly real to deal with beyond the struggles of love and marriage, which get done on every single sitcom. Additionally, there are humorous moments everywhere, even in death (as Jason, Alec, and Alexis, who sat out on the front porch with me while we were waiting for the funeral home the night my dad died, can attest to) and it is important for people to see that. However, that doesn’t make me any less annoyed.

After “Last Words,” which is an episode about Marshall’s dad’s last words to him and the whole group’s struggle to help him, it seemed that I would still be able to watch. Marshall’s life is so different from mine (he’s a lawyer trying to have a baby with his wife; I’m single, broke, and still living with my mother and fighting with several family members) But then one line from the episode aired last night brought all that to a halt.

“He won’t get to see how I turn out.”

My dad won’t get to see how I turn out. He was so proud of all I’ve done so far, and in my opinion, I haven’t really done much. How proud of me will he be in 20 years, when, hopefully, I’ve accomplished something? He won’t get to meet and scare the crap out of the next guy I date. He won’t get to tell me that the next pair of shoes I buy are kind of slutty. He won’t get see if I ever get out of Starbucks or eventually take over for Howard Schultz. He won’t walk me down the aisle or get to be a grandpa.

After about 30 minutes of crying, I got to thinking. All the people who have been a major part of your life will always be there, because they have helped put together the 3-D, complicated puzzle that ends up being you. So, while it might suck that these people are not in your life anymore, for whatever reason, they did something to change you into who you are now. Therefore, when those big moments happen, they are with you because they are a part of you.

So, while my dad might not be able to do all those things, he will in a way because he made me the person I am today, and no matter how hard it is for me to see now, his death will shape how the rest of my life goes. Every time I meet a guy, I will always have his influence in the back of my head. When I am working, no matter what I’m doing, I will always have his voice in my head, singing along to CCR: “Don’t let the man get you do what he done to me.” I will take everything he ever taught me, everything he ever showed me, and everything he wanted for me with me everywhere for the rest of my life. While it is definitely not the same thing as having him alongside me, it is something I will remind myself every time I think of all the things my dad won’t be alongside me to experience.

I’m still a little angry with How I Met Your Mother, though. I may have to defect to Big Bang Theory.

Living It Up! (In My Own Way)

I was reading this article in the NY Times the other day, and it kind of made me realize something that I have been searching for throughout this blog: happiness is directly correlated to experiences, not material things. Also, what you’re “supposed” to be doing and where you’re “supposed” to be at certain points of your life, might not be what will actually make you happy.

Shocking, I know.

For a year, I was working so hard at two jobs and making money and gaining experience that would hopefully help me jumpstart my career. But guess what? I didn’t have time to spend the money the way I wanted to. I was tired all the time. And my experience has yet to jumpstart my career. (Maybe the jumper cables weren’t hooked up properly?) Then, after quitting the second job, going back to Starbucks full time, and quieting my mind about what I’m “supposed” to be doing, I starting noticing that I’m actually enjoying my life and, finally, living.

In the past 2 months since I quit the paper, I have done more things and had more time for friends than I’ve had in the past year. Sure, my schedule is different than most people, but somehow it works out that I can spend time with everyone. Sure, I don’t have as much money, but that is just making me appreciate all the free things the world has to offer.

When I was making more money, I also wasn’t saving as much. I would go shopping at least every other week, in search of something that would fulfill me and make me fell good about myself. Guess what? Buying a fantastic outfit but having no time to wear it out doesn’t make you feel any better. Now, I put away a little from each paycheck, pay off bills, then take what little is left and make the most of it. Now I have a reason to wear all the cute outfits I bought instead of putting that money into savings. (I’ve also realized that shopping for shopping’s sake doesn’t me have the best taste. Some of the things I bought are not as cute as I originally thought. Having “what was I thinking?” moments only a few months after buying something is NOT good…) As an added bonus, I cherish the things I buy a lot more than I used to and I'm actually doing research on stuff before blowing $150 just because I want it. (Btw...in the Nook vs. Kindle debate, the Nook is kind of kicking the Kindle's ass...I still can't bring myself to buy it though. Yet.)

I’m not saying that I am completely happy or that I don’t get frustrated or that I don’t still want to move out of my parents house or move to the Bay or NY or that I wouldn’t like to be making more money to buy myself the Brian Atwood Harrison Chain-Trimmed pumps ($1,050 at Saks, but sooo friggin hot), but honestly, if making more money and buying those pumps and having the fabulous apartment comes with being stressed, unhealthy and unhappy, then you can have it.

Don't worry, I'm still on a search for how to live out the rest of my life, so I'm not going to be giving up my blog any time soon. (Insert annoyingly cute emoticon here)

Jury Duty, Part 3: Public Transpo & the "Honor System"

So I know I’ve already written about the adventure of the Los Angeles subway on my way to jury duty, but I left out one very important thing: the honor system.

In every other place I’ve taken the subway or rail or whatever form of underground there is (such as the weird hybrid that is MUNI…but that’s another post to come), you purchase your ticket and then swipe it to get through the turnstile. Then, when you leave, you either have to swipe again or you just leave. There are many ways to do this, but not in LA. We have to be idiots about it.

The first day I took the metro to jury duty, I bought my ticket and then walked up to the “turnstile.” Only, there was no actual turnstile. It looked like they had put up the turnstile, but then taken out the gate and left the posts. Ticket in hand, I walked up and looked for a place to swipe. There was no place to swipe. There was a round circle on the front of one of the posts that said “TAP here” so I did. Only nothing happened. I stood there like an idiot for a good minute before I watched another passenger just walk straight through. I did the same, but felt I had missed something. I’ve never jumped a turnstile before, but somehow I felt as if that’s what I just did.

Sitting on the train, all I could think of is how dumb of a system this is! Why would I even buy a ticket if I can just walk through? I’m a fairly honest person (despite what people think) and I would do it because I believe that nothing is free and if you are supposed to pay for something you should, but at the same time, I was tempted to not buy a ticket anymore. If I can ride for free, then why wouldn’t I? Especially if other people weren’t paying. It’s not fair to me to pay for everyone else. I might believe that you should pay for things, but I don’t believe I should be paying for a bunch of strangers.

All of these thoughts were going through my head when I was buying my ticket the next day. I ended up paying the $1.25, but not without a lively debate in my head.

It’s a good thing I did, however.

When I got down to the platform and boarded the train, there was an announcement for everyone to have their tickets ready. “Sheriffs will be coming through to check for tickets.” I watched at least three people get up and walk out, only to be grabbed by sheriffs outside the train. I wanted to ask the sheriff a ton of questions when he got to me, but I refrained because he looked like he had enough work to do without me asking a bunch of questions. I watched as several people got pulled off the train and were written citations.

A quick Google search told me that the ticket can be up to $200 and you have to show up to court! Plus, the MTA loses about $5 million a year from fare evasion. There is a debate about whether or not the MTA should spend the money to put in the gates and have people swipe in order to get through. In my opinion, there is no debate. People are dishonest. Even an honest person like me (keep your sniggering to yourself please!) thought of being dishonest simply because the MTA had made it so easy. LA, come on. Why can’t you just look at systems that work and model your system after one of those? Why must you be different and naïve? (I did find out what TAP meant. "Transit Access Pass." Very clever MTA.)

I ended up paying every time I rode. It was not worth $200 and another wasted day in court just to save $1.25.

Although, I am a bit tempted to jump a turnstile next time I’m in NYC.

Jury Duty Part 2: There's a subway in LA??!!

While I was on jury duty, I had a ton of ideas for things to write about, but I never actually managed to. Thank goodness I wrote these ideas downs! That way, when I’m going through a notebook I had carried with me and happen upon some of my ideas, I have a post that is almost completely written for me! I’m nothing if not all about doing very little work.

One of the things that really stuck out to me was taking public transportation in Los Angeles(possibly for the first time ever…I seem to remember taking a bus with Grandma when I was a kid…maybe?). I have taken public transportation in NY and SF many times, but never in my hometown. It’s LA…we drive. Except that the drive into Downtown in rush hour traffic made me stress out so much that I would have convicted anyone just so I could get out before 3:30 and not have to come back the next day.

My friend Chad was actually the one who suggested it. He told me it was only $2.50 round trip and it would drop me off right at the courthouse. So, for the first time (possibly the last time…) I took Chad’s advice.

While the actual train was awesome(always on time, crowded on the way home but not unbearably so), I had one issue that I should have anticipated given the fact that it’s LA: parking.

“Park and Ride” stations. Sounds perfect right? The only problem is that there is not NEARLY enough parking for all the people taking the train! No actually there is, except that half the lot is for monthly parking. Which was NEVER even CLOSE to full. Rows and rows of open parking spots, all of which would be great for those of us who have to drive to the station because there is no bus anywhere near our residence. But NO. The MTA would rather leave those spots empty to early morning commuters in hope that people will pay a monthly fee.

I decided that maybe I should just buy a monthly pass. I knew the trial would take at least 14 days so, depending on how much it costs, a monthly pass might be worth it, if for no other reason than it would keep me from pulling my hair out looking for parking and then just end up parking in one of the monthly spots out of frustration and getting a $40 parking ticket. (Which I did.) But guess what? THE PARKING PASSES FOR THE NOHO STATION WERE SOLD OUT! WTF?! How can they be sold out when every single morning there are 5 rows with at least 40 spots each totally empty?! MTA, I would like an explanation, please.

In the end, the trial ended up lasting 15 days, 11 of which I took the subway. I might have been totally frustrated by the parking situation, but by the time I got to the courthouse, I was totally relaxed. I would read my book, listen to music or just people watch, which was probably the most interesting part about it. When you people watch in the car, you run the risk of crashing into the stopped car in front of you. (Which I haven’t done yet, but I feel like it might be one of those inevitabilities about living in LA, like fake boobs and spray tans.)

Jury Duty. Part 1: Death and Karma

Jury Duty is something that every American comes across and must deal with at some point in their lives. Much like death. And, much like death, there is really no good time for Jury Duty. Alos, much like death, you can’t predict when it will come around.

I, like pretty much everyone I’ve ever met, was not at all happy when I got the summons. So, I This way, I rationalized, I was able to get everything set so if I had to go in, it wouldn’t be too destructive. After calling in Saturday to see if I had to report Monday and discovering that I didn’t have to go to court, I thought I was in the clear. I was wrong.

Monday night, prior to a movie night outing with Jason, I called in. “You are required to report to Stanley Mask Courthouse at 7:30 a.m.” NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!! Even though I had warned my job this might happen, it didn't make it any easier for them. Or me.

So at promptly 7:45 a.m., I walked into the Jurors Assembly Room to a woman explaining how to fill out the 8 questions needed in order to determine our eligibility and ability to be a juror. At promptly 8 a.m., I was falling asleep. On the plus side, I had come prepared with not 1 but 2 books.

During the two hours I was sitting around, I thought a lot about why Jury Duty sucks. First of all, you have to make arrangements with your work just in case you get called in. So, the whole time you’re doing it, it’s a big “IF” hanging over your head. “If” I get called in…”If” I get put on a trial…”If” I lie to try to get out of it and end up in jail for perjury…

Secondly, you get paid less than minimum wage for a system that your tax dollars are funding. If my tax dollars are going in toward this, then why am I not being compensated at least what I would be getting paid if I worked in one of the sweatshops a few blocks away.

Third, the whole process is completely screwed up. It is not a “jury of your peers” if you really think about it. (Now, this is going to sound racist, elitist, and every other “ist” that cause the politically correct to cringe, so I apologize ahead of time.) A jury of my peers would be naturally born Caucasian citizens with college degrees, two married parents, and an open, unbiased mind.

The longer I sat there, however, the more I thought about how I would feel if I were on trial and needed a jury. I would want people just like me on the jury. Not necessarily white and educated, but intelligent and open-minded. I woul”d want 12 “peers who could listen to both sides and see the evidence and make logical, informed, unemotional decisions based on that. I would also want people who understood that while this system is not beneficial in any way towards the jurors, it does allow every person in the US to get an opportunity to be part of the justice system, whether it’s actually serving on a trial or just making that phone call every night until dismissed.

I did get put on a trial and am currently serving. While I may complain about what a pain it is to get downtown and how the days are long and boring and how much money I’m losing by being out of work for 8-10 business days, I am glad I’m doing this. Mainly because my jury karma will be good so hopefully, much like death, I'll only have to go through it once.

This is as close to a Thank You note as I'm ever going to get

I am not a serious person.

Nor am I an emotional person.

However, in the past few days, I have been really reflecting and thinking and, well, feeling.

I look at what is going on in Haiti and I can’t help but feel incredibly sad for each and every person there, as well as every person here who has family or friends there. It is a country where there was so much turmoil before this huge earthquake, and now it is just in shambles. Food can’t be given out because of near-riots. Medical workers are being evacuated because of threats of violence. Rescue workers are not even able to get to the island because the airport and dock have been destroyed. Orphans are sleeping on the street because the orphanages are too dangerous to be in. Paperwork for these orphans is completely lost and, thus, these children don’t even exist. There is no clean water for people to drink. People are dying from diseases that we not only have cures for, but are what we consider minor. Mass graves are being built because there is nowhere to put these bodies and there is no way to find out who they are. People are missing, starving, and dying. It is so heartbreaking and, unfortunately, there is only so much we can do.

As I sit here, all I can do is be thankful for everything I have. I live in a country where our government is stable enough to live through natural disasters and tragedies. I have family and friends whom I love and who love me. I have 2 jobs that I complain a lot about but allow me the small luxuries in life. I have my health, and my life. I have never felt so grateful for everything I have. I find myself worrying less about the small annoyances and just being appreciative.

Thank you to every single member of my family and every single one of my friends for being so amazing. I know I make a lot of jokes and I complain a lot, but from the bottom of my heart, each and everyone of you means more to me than I could every express in words.

Thank you.

It's all Mervyn LeRoy's fault...

I have had a somewhat irrational fear of birds for as long as I can remember. People always ask me where it comes from. Was I attacked by a bird when I was a kid? Did I watch The Birds too many times? I have never been able to pinpoint exactly where this phobia came from...until the other night.

I went to see The Wizard of Oz on the big screen, which was all kinds of awesome that I can't even begin to describe. I have seen this movie so many times that I could probably do the entire thing, word-for-word. I was sitting there and I was just like a child. I even managed to turn off my analytical brain so I wouldn't think about all the ways in which scenes could be viewed as offensive. It was great.

It came to the part in the enchanted forest, when the witch sends the winged monkeys to get Dorothy, and I felt the familiar sense of fear I feel every time I see a pigeon near me when I sit outside at a cafe. My heart rate goes up, my face gets hot, and I have a feeling that I should go the other way.

I couldn't believe it. My favorite movie of all time has caused one of my silliest phobias. The funniest part about it is that they weren't even birds!

Maybe now that I've figured out where this fear comes from, I'll be able to eat outside again without the fear of being attacked by crows who mistake me for a piece of bread and poke my eyeballs out.

Maybe not....

In lieu of an actual post...

So, I'm too lazy to do an actual post so instead I'm doing one of those stupid things you get on Facebook...although this one I actually like... Plus I've added my priceless comments, so it's really a win-win!

Have you read more than 6 of these books? The BBC believes most people will have read only 6 of the 100 books here. How do your reading habits stack up?
Instructions: Copy this into your NOTES. Look at the list and put a 'Yes' after those you have read. Tag other book nerds. Tag me as well so i can see your responses!"

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen - Y (This was the first Jane Austen I read. Molly made me. My arm is still sore from the twisting she did. Although, I've totally converted.)
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien -Y (I know...I'm a big nerd)
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte -Y
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling - Y (Duh...)
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee - Y (Once again, I say Duh...any kind who went to high school in America has read this)

6 The Bible - (Sorta. I've read it in parts, but never as a whole. Plus, I didn't get into the Bible as Literature course I had wanted to when I was at Cal. Apparently I wasn't the only person who wanted to critically analyze the Bible.)
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte - Y (I read this when I was 12 and didn't get most of it. Then I read it again when I was 16 and enjoyed it. Then I read it for a class and fell totally in love.)
8 1984 - George Orwell - Y
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman - N
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens - Y (I hate Dickens. HATE.)

11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott - Y (I wish I could tell you how many times I've read this but there is no numerical value large enough)
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy - N
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller - Y
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare - Y (Yeah, even Titus Andronicus.)
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier - N

16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien - Y (Once again, I display my Dork Card proudly!)
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk - N
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger - Y (I actually didn't get it until I was in college...)
19 The Time Traveler’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger - N (Should I?)
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot - N

21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell -Y (My dad made me.)
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald -Y (I know it's kind of cheesy with obvious symbolism, but I still love it)
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens - N (Once again, I hate Dickens.)
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy - N (Not that I haven't tried...)
25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams - Y (This one does not get my Dork Card approval.)

26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh -N
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky - Y (For a class. I would not have read it by choice.)
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck - Y
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll - Y (If you think the movie is a druggie's dream, read the book.)
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame - Y

31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy - Y (Do I make up points I lost from War and Peace)
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens - N (For the 3rd time, HATE Dickens!)
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis - Y (I actually haven't read all of them, but I have read the majority of it, so I count it as a yes.)
34 Emma - Jane Austen - Y (SO funny...I never knew...)
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen - N (Not yet...It's on my list!)

36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis - Y (Duh...)
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hossein -N (Once again, I say, Should I?)
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres - N
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden - Y
40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne - Y

41 Animal Farm - George Orwell - Y
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown - Y (Yes, and I would like my 4 hours back please. Dan Brown is everything wrong with writing, cuz he's TERRIBLE.)
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez - Y
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving - N
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins - N

46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery - Y (My sister used to have the whole series and I would swipe them when she wasn't looking.)
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy - N
48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood - N
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding - Y (I still get all teary when I think about Piggy)
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan - Y (I would recommend this to everyone. It's like SVU without all the overt evil.)

51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel - N ( I tried and failed)
52 Dune - Frank Herbert - N
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons - N
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen - Y (My second attempt at Jane Austen. I loved the movie too...)
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth - N

56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon - N
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens - Y (Still, nuthin but hate for you Chuck)
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley - N
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night - Mark Haddon - N
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez - Y

61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck - Y (And there is totally a guy who works at another Starbucks that we have dubbed Lenny...you can imagine why!)
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov - Y (Beautiful. And creepy...)
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt - N
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold - Y
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas - Y

66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac - Y (Ramble much?)
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy - N
68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding - Y (I'm not proud of this fact...)
69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie - N
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville - Y (You kind of have to...)

71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens - Y (For someone who hates Dickens, I really have read a lot of his work..)
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker - Y
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett - Y (One of the first books where I had seen the movie first and then read the book.)
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson - N
75 Ulysses - James Joyce - Y (Unfortunately.)

76 The Inferno - Dante - Y (Not only have I read it, but I have several analytical papers on it.)
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome - N
78 Germinal - Emile Zola - N
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray -Y
80 Possession - AS Byatt - N

81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens - Y (Ok, this one I actually liked)
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell - N
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker - Y (Hello, only one of my favorite books)
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro - N
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert - N

86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry - N
87 Charlotte’s Web - EB White -Y (How has anyone NOT read this book??????)
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom - Y(Once again, I'm not proud.)
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle - Y (and I'm totally excited for the movie!!!)
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton - N

91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad - Y (This and The Waste Land duked it out for the bane of my English major existence...)
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery - Y
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks - N
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams - N
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole - N

96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute - Y
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas - Y
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare - Y (Again, I say duuuuuhhhhh)
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Y
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo - N (Nor do I want to...)

Grand total: 51 1/2 (The half is the Bible)

BBC...I say I proved you WRONG. Although, I was an English major so I guess I cheated.

Journeys are not what it's all about

You know that saying “It’s not the destination, it’s the journey”? Well, in my opinion, that’s bull. I hate the “journey” part of traveling. I hate the airport and I hate flying.

My hate for the airport is not necessarily for the “hassle” as much as it is the reasons behind the hassle and the idiots who don’t get it. You have to put all your belongings on display for some stranger to X-ray and then, if you’re lucky, another stranger will then make you open your bag and display all your stuff for the rest of the travelers as well. Then, once you get past the humiliation of walking through a public facility with no shoes on, you must pay $3 for a burnt, tasteless cup of coffee. Plain coffee. It’s another $2 for cream and sugar. All of this “hassle” because a small percentage of people decided they needed to fly planes into buildings to make their point. Or because a few people decided that blowing up a plane with liquid explosives would be a good idea. Thanks.

Then, the other source of the hassle is the fact that people can’t seem to comprehend that 3 oz in a clear plastic bag means 3 oz in a clear plastic bag. Not a big bottle of shaving cream shoved underneath all the stuff in your already too large carry on bag. And yes, ma’am, you do need to take your shoes off. Just do it and stop complaining.

Overall, the “hassle” at the airport is something that is manageable. I hate it, but I handle it.

The act of flying is the other part of the “journey” that I am not in love with. Somehow the idea of being 36,000 feet above the ground is not comforting or exciting. Plus, the seats are so close together that your either have to get really comfortable touching the person next to you for the duration, or you have to fidget like the lady in the hemorrhoid cream commercials in order to avoid physical contact.

Then there’s landing. Racing toward cement at hundreds of miles per hour with only a few small wheels to save you from slamming into the asphalt.

Even with all of these fears and concerns and discomforts, I still do it. I know that, in order to reach my destination, I have to put of all of this scary, uncomfortable and stressful stuff in order to get to where I’m going.

One more way I annoy all the people that hang out with me...

The other night, I went to see The Taking of Pelham 123 with my friend Ricky. The movie was pretty freakin' awesome and I have to say, John Travolta is the best bad guy ever. When the movie ended, Ricky got up to leave and I didn't.

"What? You're not ready to go?"

"I sit through the credits."

"Haha...what you think there is going to be something at the end?" When I don't move, he gets very awkward and looks around at the rest of the moviegoers filing out of the theater. "You were serious?"

"Yeah I was. I can meet you outside if you'd like."

He then gave me the look that many people do. Bewildered and annoyed.

So here's the thing. I know a lot of people who work in the entertainment industry. And not just actors or directors but teamsters, set dressers, grips, and even caterers and assistants. All of these people get their names in the credits, but 90% of people that go to movies don't bother to sit there and see the name of the guy who drove the truck or the assistant the assistant of Denzel Washington. These are the people who make less than a sixth of what everyone else is making and they are doing the worst job possible and getting no respect for it.

Therefore, at the end of a movie, it is all I can do to spend an extra five minutes to watch the credits and see the name of the guy who picks up the poo of John Travolta's dog. Even if they get no respect from anyone else, they have mine while I watch the names go up to the top of the screen.

A little picky is fine...High maintenance is not

It takes a lot for me to find someone truly high maintenance. I am used to people being uber picky about how they want their drinks, but every once in awhile, I get a customer who makes me glad that I only have to deal with them at work. If I had to hang out with these people, I'd probably be in jail for murder.

The other morning, this guy came in. He was wearing a nice striped button down with navy slacks and really didn't have any of the tell-tale markers of a high maintenance person (Bluetooth headseat, executive notebook, very large purse with three different agendas, and pretty much anyone who, at 5 am, looks like they've been up for 2 hours to put themselves together). Then he orderd, and it was a whole new level of fastidiousness.

"I'd like, in a paper cup, a Venti Coffee Frap." Pause to make sure I got that he wanted his cold drink in a paper cup. I kept to myself the fact that if you put a Frap in a paper cup, the cup will become soggy and leak all over his perfectly-pressed pants. (Yes, after his first sentence I started noticing all the little things that made him picky. He didn't keep cash in a wallet but kept it in a money clip. All of them were new bills. God forbid there's a wrinkle in that 20.)

"With no Whip." Pretty normal for, well, everyone in LA. Not too annoying.

"With an add shot blended in." Pretty normal for anytime before 10 am. Again, not too annoying, but getting there.

"With one and a half scoops of tall ice." Shit. Just when he only borded on picky, he became high maintenance.

I know what you're thinking. How come with just one line he became high maintenance? Well, here's the thing. If I have to walk over to the bar and read the instructions to the person making the drinks, your bitchass is high maintenance. Demanding, picky, stubborn, controlling; all of these are understandable, but just plain high maintenance is not. You're holding up everyone else and you are making my job a lot tougher than it needs to be. Not to mention the fact that you're getting shit you don't need in a very complicated way and it makes you look like a complete fool.

So, the next time you are in Starbucks or at a restaurant, think about what you're ordering. If it involves changing more than two things, don't get it. You probably don't need that decaf, half soy, half nonfat, 190 degree, no foam, one pump mocha, one pump cinnamon dulce, no whip latte. Save your money for something imporant. Like shoes.

Reason number 898,974 that proves people are idiots...

Guy in line to Bianca, who is at the register: Tell me about your Shaken Iced Tea.

Bianca: Sure. What would you like to know?

Guy: Is it iced?

Bianca: (Without smiling or showing any sign of her assessment of what an idiot this guy was) Umm...yeah....

I let out a snort that I tried to cover up as a cough and the girl with the guy in line just went "HA!" The guy didn't get it.

What I really wanted to say: No, dipshit, it's called Iced Tea because we enjoy fooling customers and then answering dumb questions to waste our time and frustrate our employees.

By the way, anyone who told you "There's no such thing as a stupid question" is someone who asks stupid questions and you should never take advice from them.

Offense sells tickets; defense wins games

With the NBA playoffs well underway and the WNBA season coming up (Ashley Paris in LA...I can't wait to see how she does!) I got to thinking today about all the reasons basketball is my favorite sport. I came up with a lot. The most important one seems, to me, pretty basic: it’s completely fair.

First of all, if one team scores, the other gets the chance to retaliate instantly. There aren’t three more outs to wait for or 100 more yards to get through to even the score. It's your five against a theirs. If you can’t score the next time down, it’s on you. The other team might have played awesome defense, but just the same, you get the chance to go down to the other end and play defense just as well.

Secondly, it’s FAST! I’ve seen teams come back from a 20-point deficit in just 5 minutes. Or execute a last-second-timeout drawn up play in only 5 seconds. There is so much going on that it’s very hard to get bored. Even at a blowout game, there are a few minutes when the underdog starts to comeback and you think the game might even get interesting.

Finally, it’s not all about being the biggest or the best; it’s about heart. Well, ok, having true talent does make it a lot easier. However, there are plenty of times when The Best are brought down by those who just wanted it more and worked harder for it. I will never forget when I played against a team who had beat us at home 100-28. (That’s not a typo. We lost by 72 points. At home. It SUCKED) But, when we went into their house, we didn’t have anything to lose. So, we came out and kept them from scoring the first 5 minutes of the game and, even though we lost in the end, we only lost by 15. The fans did that annoying thing where they stand until their team scores and I have to say, it felt good to see that half their fans sat down before they scored. Those are the best games to watch and the best games to play. (And it’s always fun to walk by the smaller gym during the men’s game and see the other team running lines.)

Now, I’m not trying to say that other sports aren’t as fair. But, if you take away all of the other factors (excuses), at the end of the day all you need is a ball, a basket, and an opponent, even if that opponent is just you.

Top Ten Ways to Prevent Something Gross From Being Done to Your Drink

I was at work today and, as usual, I’ve decided that I completely agree with House. People are idiots. So, in order to help all of you not be so damn stupid, I am going to list all the common idiotic behaviors and tell you what you should do instead.

1. It’s so damn simple. BE NICE!!!! I’m not saying you need to listen to your barista tell you her life story, but when she says, “How are you today?” don’t just look at her like she’s inconveniencing you. Say, “I’m good. I”ll have a….” So simple.

2. It’s perfectly fine to have a complicated drink. What’s not ok is to have a complicated drink that you don’t tell the person at the register. I can’t tell you how many times a day people will order something basic, a latte let’s say, and then walk over to the bar and say “Oh, can I have that decaf? With nonfat milk? And no foam? With only one shot?” In my head, I say, “ You dumb bitch. No, you’re getting regular with heavy cream and extra foam” but out loud, I say, “Sure, no problem.” Because I have to.

3. On those same lines, do not have a super complicated drink and then quiz the barista about it. “Is it nonfat? No foam? Decaf?” Yes, you stupid fuck. I just called all that out and now you’re asking me to repeat it again? Pay attention the first time and then you won’t have to worry about it.

4. Another so simple one: PAY ATTENTION. Names are put on cups for a reason, so DO NOT WALK UP THE BAR AFTER “BOB” HAS BEEN CALLED OUT AND ASK “IS THAT MY DRINK?” IF YOUR NAME IS STEPHANIE. No, it’s not your drink. Yes, sometimes the names are misheard, but usually it is easy to figure out that, whoops, “Bob” should have been “Rob.” If your name wasn’t put on your cup, then pay attention to the drink the barista calls out.

5. The next is know what you order and NEVER walk up and say “Is this mine?” I HAVE NO FRACKING CLUE IF THAT IS YOURS BECAUSE I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU ORDERED. Instead, say, “Is this my nonfat latte?”

6. Ok, I know that we screw up drinks. Remember that everyone is human and, sometimes, we have been up since 4 a.m. and are suffering from sleep deficiency. The proper way to handle this is to say, “Excuse me, but I asked for 2 extra pumps and this doesn’t taste right.” Say it very nicely without attitude and be understanding about it. You have every right to be angry that your drink wasn’t made correctly the first time, but the more angry you get at us, the more fucked up that drink will be. Just because you’re staring at me watching make your drink doesn’t mean I don’t know how to screw with it. Not that I ever would. Hypothetically.

7. PICK UP YOUR SHIT. There are trash cans all over the place, so rather than leaving your empty cups and newspapers on the table, drop them in the trash can on your way out. Your mom doesn’t work here and won't pick up after you. I ain't your mama either, so I will hate you for the rest of the time you come to my store if you don't pick up after yourself. This also goes for spilling sugar on the condiment bar and not cleaning it up or dropping something on the ground and leaving.

8. TURN THE VOLUME OF YOUR CONVERSATION DOWN. I’m telling you, if I hear one more conversation about whether or not that girl's boobs are real or that you have some sort of rash on your “hidden areas and aren’t sure which guy” you got it from, I’m going to give my opinion. (Yes, both of those have been real conversations I overheard.)

9. DO NOT MOCK, CLOWN, HATE ON, OR TALK SHIT ABOUT THE PERSON SERVING YOU FOOD. Especially when she can hear you. It makes an already thankless job even worse and it is what causes bad customer service. If you go everywhere and everyone treats you badly, it’s not them. It’s you.

10. DO NOT COMMENT ON THE PRICES OR HOW LONG THE LINE IS. We cannot control the prices, so don’t complain to me. I agree that it’s expensive but you’re choosing to spend $5 on a drink, so just accept it and move on. Same with the line. If you walk in and there are 10 people in front of you, realize that there is going to be wait. You’re choosing to get in line and wait for a drink, so if you don’t wanna wait, go to 7-11.

That’s it. It’s simple and easy to have a good experience. Then, when someone is truly rude to you and you have done nothing, you can do what I do: make a scene.

Just keep your mouth shut until you get in the car and are on the freeway!

I have discovered somewhere that is incredibly dangerous. It is a place that is a comfort for most and even a safe haven, but for me, it is a place to be feared and avoided at all costs.

WalMart.

I didn’t grow up with a WalMart down the street, so I have never really found a need to go there. I have Target, which is just as good. Not to say that I have never been in a WalMart before in my life, but this weekend I got the true WalMart experience. And IT FREAKED ME OUT!

My sister got a new apartment and we were shopping for stuff like bookcases and trash cans and pretty much the necessities. We went to Ikea and then decided to head to WalMart right next door to see if they had the other stuff we needed.

We walk in and I am instantly overwhelmed. There is so much stuff! To my left, the produce aisle. To my right, the lingerie section. In front of me, all the morally appropriate CDs I could ever ask for. Behind me, the poor greeter to whom I said, “Holy shit, this is white trash heaven!” I’m surprised I didn’t get a riffle pulled on me by some of the guys who no doubt had them in the back of their raised pickups.

As we are walking through, we can’t find anything! It takes three times as long to find things as it would in a supermarket or a drugstore or even in Ikea! Plus, there were about 200 workers but, because if it's gargantuan size, you couldn’t find a single person to help you! Crazy!

Now, I understand why WalMart is potentially so fabulous: convenience and price. You can find a new outfit, accessorize it, do your grocery shopping, get an eye exam and a physical, fill your prescriptions, have your hair and nails done all to have a wonderful dinner at Blimpie with a little ice cream from the frozen food section, while your tires are getting rotated. All for under $50. Why go anywhere else when everything you need is right there?

Oh yeah, maybe because “convenience” is not always convenient. Or pleasant.

There is so much stuff that it is hard to find even one thing. I would rather go 10 places that specialize in what I am looking for and I can go in, get it done and leave, rather than spending 20 minutes wandering around looking for stuff or being horrified by the hairstyles people are getting in the “salon" and wondering if the potato salad really is any cheaper than the stuff at Safeway. (I didn’t know that “feathering” was still even taught in beauty school.)

I think that the cherry on top, however, was that when we were walking out, there was a very large family walking in front of us. (I mean "large" both in numbers and actual size. But, let's be honest, who am I to comment on "largeness"?) The mom had bleach blond hair with long, airbrushed acrylic nails, a spaghetti strap tank top with her bra hanging out, cutoff shorts and flip flops. The dad was wearing flip flops, cutoffs, a beater and his sunglasses on his head. Then, there were 8 kids around them, in addition to a baby in the cart and a 2ish-year-old in the mom’s arms. The little boys all had faux hawks and the little girls all had fake tattoos. The contents of the cart are what truly solidified their white trash standing: beer right next to the diapers. There was also three times as much beer as there were diapers. I started laughing rather loudly and the woman turned around to stare at the crazy woman who is guffawing to herself. I had to bite my tongue so I wouldn’t blurt out “Spending quality family time at the WalMart huh? Are the kids going to help you drink the beer and change the diapers of the other kids while your husband gets the little girls real tattoos to match their fake ones?”

WalMart is a dangerous place for me.

It was only supposed to be a simple trip to San Diego

It started innocently enough. Go down to San Diego for Lisa’s baby shower, then have dinner with Iisha, then go home. I should know better than to expect that anything will be as uncomplicated as it appears to be.

Here’s the thing. My car had a small coolant leak that my dad thought he had fixed. Fixed as in “it’ll get you there and back but I don’t know how much longer it’ll hold after that.” So we figured we were fine.

We got down there in pretty good time and I had a great time. Let me rephrase. I had as great of a time as one can have at a baby shower with a bunch of people one does not know. I spent a lot of time with my cousin Maddy and I got to see pretty much all of my family, so I really have no complaints.

I left to go out to dinner with Iisha. We hardly get to see each other, so I was very excited. She chose Cheesecake Factory and honestly, who am I to argue? We get there and, well, shocker of shockers, it’s packed! We decide to head back towards her house because it probably won’t be as busy and it might even be cheaper, which is always a plus.

As we are driving on the freeway, I notice that the temperature gauge starting to climb. I think that I need to get off, but being the queen of procrastination, I keep going until I have no other choice but to get off. We pull into a Burger King parking lot, where a ton of steam comes out of the engine. It was enough steam to keep a sauna going for quite awhile.

I, of course, call my dad and inform him that his quick-fix blew up in my face. Almost literally. As he tries to figure out a way to get the car home, I call my grandma and tell her that someone needs to come pick me up. Here’s what the conversation sounded like:

ME: Hey Grandma, are Derek and Lisa still there?
GRANDMA: Why? What happened?
ME: My car broke down and I need someone to come pick me and Iisha up.
GRANDMA: YOUR CAR BROKE DOWN? WHAT? ARE YOU OK?
ME: Yeah Grandma, we’re cool. But I need someone to come pick us up. Dad is trying to figure out a way to get the car home.
GRANDMA: Why don’t you just call AAA?
ME: I don’t have AAA
GRANDMA: YOU DON’T HAV AAA? WHY ON EARTH DON’T YOU HAVE AAA?
ME: Because you don’t love me enough to pay for it. Can I please just speak to Derek? Or Lisa? Or Mark? Or Cheryl?
GRANDMA: Well Grandpa will come get you. Hang on give Mike directions. (Like I said, my WHOLE family was there) MIKE, KIMMI’S CAR BROKE DOWN AND SHE DOESN’T HAVE AAA AND NEEDS SOMEONE TO PICK HER UP….NO SHE DOESN’T HAVE AAA….I DON’T KNOW WHY…NOW COLLEEN (my mother) DON’T WORRY SHE’S FINE…YES COLLEEN WE WILL EAT EVENTUALLY…Ok honey, here’s your Uncle Mike.

Ten minutes later, my phone rings

GRANDMA: Derek and Lisa are coming to get you and Grandpa’s coming too because he has his AAA card and I might come too to make sure you’re ok and your mom is hungry so she might come so she can get something from Burger King and…
Me: GRANDMA…THE ENTIRE FAMILY CANNOT COME TO PICK ME UP. I HAVE MY FRIEND WITH ME AND WE ALL NEED TO FIT IN THE CAR. JUST SEND DEREK AND LISA.
Grandma: Well…Grandpa has to come because he has the card…ok…the three of them are leaving now.

After a lot of phone calls and texts to Alec, who was working at AAA at the time, we finally found a way to get my car back to LA and get Iisha home. (Thanks fave cousin!) The catch: I have to drive up to LA in the tow truck. By myself. With some random guy. (Ok, so technically not by myself, but you get it.) Now, I hadn’t even thought of this, but, of course, my Grandma had.

GRANDMA: Are you sure she’s going to be ok riding all alone with a truck driver back to LA? Aren’t you worried about her?
DAD: No BJ, I’m more worried about the tow truck driver having to drive up to LA with Kimmi. She’ll be fine.

Oh yeah. It was fabulous. (BTW…My mom finally got food because Derek and Lisa are the Dynamic Duo. Thanks for the concern, Mom.)

I love LA...sorta...

The funny thing about living in LA is the amount of things we see that, in an other city, would be totally ridiculous. Or insane. Or just plain weird.

For example, size DD boobs and long blond hair on a woman who weighs 100 pounds walks down the street in skinny jeans and sky-high heels. In any other city in America, she would illicit stares of envy, jealousy or anger from women. Men would pretend not to stare, but as soon as they thought no one was looking, they would sneak a peak at her peaks. The women would talk about unhealthy she must be to be so skinny or how much her feet must hurt from wearing those shoes. The men wouldn’t talk about her, they would simply think about her later that night, if you catch my drift. However, in LA, the men would only glance at the woman because there would be another one looking just like her coming from the other direction. The woman wouldn’t talk about how unhealthy she looked, but would instead ask where she had “them” done or about how “hard” they look. No one would think Barbie looked strange or unreal. Ridiculous.

In any other city, sitting at a red light watching people run across the street would not seem at all odd. Yet, here, those people you see running across the street are not running to catch a bus or because they are late. In fact, these people are carrying three different kinds of cameras, including telephoto lenses. These people are sprinting across the street at full speed with total disregard for the lights or their safety in order to get a picture of a person society deems newsworthy. By getting that great picture, they can make thousands of dollars. Thousands of dollars for taking a picture of someone who does nothing of note but do drugs, drink, party and illustrate how money and neglect can truly fuck you up. These paps are sprinting to get a picture of nothing more than a woman shopping with her boyfriend. Insane.

Then there’s the characters on Hollywood Blvd. When I say “characters,” I mean literally. Any day, you can walk down to Graumen’s Chinese Theater and be hoodwinked into paying to take a photo with a crack-head dressed up as Spiderman. These people, many of them homeless or out-of-work “actors,” dress up like the characters from movies, whether it’s Spiderman, Batman, Wonder Woman or even Captain Jack Sparrow. The best part, however, isn’t that you can get your picture taken with them. It’s that you might be there to see a fight between Darth Vadar and Superman. Or you might catch Chewbacca sexually assaulting Marilyn Monroe and then get to testify in the pending trial. Anywhere else, these people would be either arrested or committed. Hey, they don’t call it “Hollyweird” for nothing.

I know that I am always the first person to say how fake LA is and how intellectually numbing this city can be, but, truthfully, all of these absurdities are what make this city fascinating. You never really know what is going to happen or who that person really is. “Barbie” might be the next Jenna Jameson, enabling you to tell people how you saw her with her clothes on. Those paps might get the photo of Brad and Angelina pre-Aniston breakup, making you a witness to a huge piece of pop culture history. Finally, those costumes characters are a part of the reason tourists still come to Hollywood and are helping tourism stay alive.

In the end, these eccentricities are what make up the unique culture of Los Angeles. No matter how much I complain about LA, it does have some interesting assets that I have grown to love.

I went on vh1 and got the love of my perfect man! (and an STD)

"Reality TV" is an oxymoron. I don't care how much everyone wants to say it's not, it is. In the same way that you are always watching what you say around your boss, if there is a camera in your face, there are certain things you wouldn't normally do or say. Therefore, it's not real. Ever.

That said, I do sometimes enjoy these shows. They are funny and are usually like watching a car crash: no matter how hard you try, you just can't look away! I really enjoy the ones where they are competing for a prize, like on ANTM or Project Runway, or just The Real World where drama always happens. I'm even kind of enjoying Tough Love (a new vh1 series) because, unlike other vh1 series, this one is not about 15 girls all vying for the prize of one man. It's about these girls finding in themselves that they are worth love, and even though it is cheesy and stupid, there is some good to it.

Now, the shows that I absolutely cannot stand anymore are all the ones where a bunch of guys/girls fight for the "love" of one person. The Bachelor/Bachelorette, Flavor of Love, Rock of Love, For the Love of Ray J, Joe Millionaire, Shot at Love, etc. I won't lie; I have watched and sometimes enjoyed these shows. But the more I think about it, the more I am truly disgusted by it.

Here's the concept: (I'm using a male example because, let's be honest, these are more common. Women are more willing to do stupid shit for "love") A guy is tired of playing the field and wants to find "true love." Somewhere between 10 and 20 women are then moved into a house and proceed to compete for this ONE guy's love. They go on various "dates" and constantly try to break down the credibility of the other girls in order to win this ONE guy's "heart." In the end, one girl gets the “love” of her Prince Charming.

Here's the problem: You go on this show to fall in love with the same man. Then that man goes on various "dates" with these other women and, once again let's be real, probably has sex with them. So, if there are 20 women on the show and he has "sexual relations" with even half of these women, that's 10 women in the course of six weeks that he has had sex with. And I'm not including you. Then, at the end, it's just you and one other girl and he chooses you! Happiness ensues. You're thinking, "Finally! I get to spend some real time together! We are in love and everything is going to be great and wonderful and we are going to be together forever!" The end.

Or not.

Sure, you're going to be able to spend a lot of time together. At the free clinic. Because you know his ass did not use protection with all these girls and now you both got somethin' that you don't want to go to your regular doctor about. That's real.

Sure, you're in love. With the person he played for the cameras. What happens when the cameras aren't around? Who the hell is this guy? Is he different when cameras aren't around? Yes, he is different. He's no longer getting paid to do slutty things with you, therefore he's going to go back to doing slutty things with the other girls that weren't hot enough to make it on the show. Or, he's going to go back to the girlfriend he was going on reality TV to support because he's washed up and can't make any money otherwise. Yeah, it's true.

Now, I know that this is all for entertainment value, but come on! There is entertainment, and then there is stupidity. I can’t even watch them for entertainment value anymore because I just feel pity for the people on there. Half of them will go back to being nobodies and will be worse off than they were before the show started. It ‘s sad.

That said, all of you are going to continue watching because you’re entertained by it. That’s fine, but the next time you watch, just remember the old saying: When you have sex with someone, you’re sleeping with every single person they’ve ever slept with. And if you’re on Rock of Love, you’re also sleeping next to her on the bus.

Neither Barbies nor Tattoos are Evil...Please Calm Down

I don’t know which is worse: The fact that Mattel has released a Tattoo Barbie or that a West Virginia politician is trying to ban the sale of Barbies completely.

I’ll start with “Totally Stylin’ Tattoos Barbie."(Known on some blogs as "Tramp Stamp Barbie")

So the doll comes with “tattoos” for both you and your doll. You put them on with a “tattoo gun” (basically a purple water gun) and they are temporary and come off with a little soap and water. You can put tattoos anywhere on her and then share her with your friends!

I can’t say that I’m really surprised. Barbie has always gone with the trends and tattoos have become pretty damn trendy. The issue that I have, though, is that Mattel is claiming this doll will give kids a chance to be creative and express themselves. You know what, when I was growing up, I did have a Tattoo Barbie. It was the doll that I took a marker to and drew on. Then, when that got boring or I covered her completely in marker and had no other place to put any more of my gorgeous drawings, I would put stickers on her. Sometimes, I would even cut off all her hair and give her cool tats on her head. I didn’t need a special kit to express my creativity and I think that NOT having a kit forced me to be more creative. There is nothing wrong with having a Tattoo Barbie, but don’t market it as a way for kids to express their creativity. These dolls are just a way for Mattel to sell you more crap you don’t need for twice the price.

Not that I’m against Barbie or Mattel. I had Barbies growing up and I loved them. I don’t think that she should be banned.

In West Virginia, Jeff Eldridge, a DEMOCRAT (yeah, a Democrat—apparently not all Democrats are as liberal as some like to think. Unless he's a male feminist, which is a whole other issue...), has proposed House Bill 2918 that states (according to the West Virginia Legislature Web site): “It shall be unlawful in the state to sell 'Barbie' dolls and other similar dolls that promote or influence girls to place an undue importance on physical beauty to the detriment of their intellectual and emotional development.”

I’ll pause for this to sink in.

Here’s the thing. We all know that Barbie is not someone that little girls should aspire to look like. That said, think about all the great things Barbie has done in her 50 years of "life."How many careers has she had? How many different personas has she taken on? Plus, to Mattel’s credit, she has evolved with the times. In 1959, the only career Barbie had was Teenage Fashion Model, but in 2004, she was a Presidential Candidate. If Hilary Clinton looked like Barbie do you think Jeff Eldridge would call her a “detriment” to the “intellectual and emotional development” of young girls? Actually, I think that if Hilary looked like Barbie, we'd definitely have a female prez right now.

If parents would do their jobs, this wouldn’t be an issue. All a mother has to do is teach her daughter that different types of bodies, faces, hair color, height, skin color, eye color, noses, lips, etc. are all beautiful and that she shouldn’t strive to look like anyone else but herself. Explain to her that she is the most beautiful when she is herself and to never let anyone tell her differently. Period.

Now, if we’re going to ban a doll, it should be Ken. Talk about making being a “detriment” to “emotional development.” How many women do you know who still think Ken is the “perfect man”? I was personally more of a Brad* girl myself ☺ Although, GI Joe can come invade my territory any day.

(*for those who don't know, "Brad" was Ken's black friend introduced in 1969)