I'm not normally one to condone violence, but I can't help siding with the man who took out his aggressions on a dude at the gym shouting things during a spin class. I want to write him a fan letter, I like him so much.
I hope The Shrieking Machine (who still visits my gym from time to time, but usually not when I'm there) took heed of this news story. When people work out, they want to be in their own worlds. They want to zone out from the rest of the world and concentrate on their bodies, to sweat away the stress of the everyday. Someone yelling "you go girl" during your workout does not lend itself to such zoning.
I would imagine, however, that kicking the ass of the person who is yelling "you go girl" is very satisfying, and probably a good workout to boot. The way I see it, it's a win-win for everyone but the person whose ass gets kicked, but let's face it, that person has it coming.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Biggest Disappointment Ever
I had a dream this morning that it was Saturday, and I was making cinnamon rolls for breakfast. Just after I closed the oven, my husband's alarm jerked me into the reality that it is Tuesday and there would be no cinnamon rolls.
I think I might have cried a little bit.
I think I might have cried a little bit.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
We Real Cool
The green movement has been around for years, but in the last few months, it's exploded. Every day, I see stories in the newspaper or online about ways to "go green." And while I think it's great that people are starting to pay more attention to taking care of the environment, I am pretty sick of hearing the phrase "go green." It's like somewhere, the Committee to Decide What Should Be Cool This Year voted that environmental responsibility is trendy, the word "green" shall be used when talking about it, and everyone must follow suit. It's annoying.
Besides, I fail to understand why slapping a trendy label on something should make people take responsibility for the things they should be taking responsibility for in the first place. The whole thing reminds me of when I was in elementary school and was constantly told by adults that the way to be "cool" was to do your homework, eat your vegetables and say no to drugs. Of course, in the same breath, these same adults would tell us kids that being cool isn't what is important and we shouldn't give into the pressure. However, that's another discussion for another time.
But if we have to endure this doing-what-you-should-do-anyway-is-cool phenomenon, I wouldn't mind if the Committee to Decide What Should Be Cool This Year decreed that using good grammar or wearing clothes that fit was the Next Big Thing.
Besides, I fail to understand why slapping a trendy label on something should make people take responsibility for the things they should be taking responsibility for in the first place. The whole thing reminds me of when I was in elementary school and was constantly told by adults that the way to be "cool" was to do your homework, eat your vegetables and say no to drugs. Of course, in the same breath, these same adults would tell us kids that being cool isn't what is important and we shouldn't give into the pressure. However, that's another discussion for another time.
But if we have to endure this doing-what-you-should-do-anyway-is-cool phenomenon, I wouldn't mind if the Committee to Decide What Should Be Cool This Year decreed that using good grammar or wearing clothes that fit was the Next Big Thing.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Helicopter of Love
Today is my Stella's first day at doggie daycare. Naturally, I am both excited and nervous for her.
She's not unfamiliar with the place; my husband and I boarded her there two weeks ago when we went on vacation. But since she is afraid of other dogs, I worry about how she will handle things. Nevertheless, the fact is, her lack of social skills is principally why she needs to go to doggie daycare in the first place, along with the fact that she is on energy overload lately and all the activity will do her good.
The daycare has web cams, so as soon as I had a free moment, I checked them out. There was my Stella, standing regally in a corner while dogs played all around her. She actually reminded me of me on my elementary school playground, except that she wasn't carrying a book. I was a little bummed that she wasn't playing, but after awhile, she wasn't cowering either, so I figured that was some progress. But then something happened.
One of the employees came into the area to mop up what was presumably some pee on the floor. When she returned the mop to its bucket in a little gated cubby accessible from the play area, Stella, ever the velcro dog, followed the employee into the cubby. The employee, not noticing, came out and shut the door, locking Stel in.
I was conflicted. Should I call and tell them or not? I knew they would find her next time they went for the mop, but how long would that be? And would she spend that whole time drinking from the bucket? I wouldn't put it past her; she has been known to put anything and everything into her mouth. I waited a few minutes, and then I had to call. I just couldn't bear the thought of my dog drinking dirty mop water. She's eaten things way worse, but even so.
The woman who answered the phone was a little rude, I thought. The conversation went something like this.
Me: My Boston Terrier, Stella, is there today. I was just watching her on the web cam and think someone might have accidentally locked her in the little closet thing where the mop is.
Her: We've been watching her closely, because she's shy and the other dogs were barking at her. Don't worry, she's fine.
Me: OK, but I'm actually calling because someone just mopped the floor in there, and when they put the mop away, she ran into where the bucket was, and I'm pretty sure she's still in there. I don't want to be a pest or anything; I just wanted to let you know, I'm pretty sure she's locked in with the mop.
Her: OK, bye.
I wasn't expecting an apology or even a "thanks for letting us know," but I was hoping for at least a "whoops, we'll go check and let her out." I kept watching, and they did check and let her out, but even so, I was a little offended that this woman seemed so annoyed that I had called. I wasn't rude or anything; I just meant it as a sort of heads-up. My friend Marla teased me about being a "helicopter parent" for watching Stel so closely, and I had to wonder -- did I make a mistake by calling the daycare? Should I have let it go?
As a first-time dog owner, I know I have a tendency to be overprotective at times, but I'm not sure if this was one of those times. It's not like I was calling to tell them another dog was picking on Stella and needed to be punished or that she was sniffing around like she had to go potty and they ought to take her outside. This wasn't an overprotective puppy parent thing; they had locked my dog in what was basically a closet. Besides, why did they install web cams if they didn't want to hear people's comments on their dogs' activities?
I like this place; I really do. Stella was loved and pampered during her weekend stay, and even today, after she got out of the closet, she ran around and seemed to be having a decent time. So I don't want to make them mad at me...but at the same time, I really don't feel like I deserved the brush-off.
She's not unfamiliar with the place; my husband and I boarded her there two weeks ago when we went on vacation. But since she is afraid of other dogs, I worry about how she will handle things. Nevertheless, the fact is, her lack of social skills is principally why she needs to go to doggie daycare in the first place, along with the fact that she is on energy overload lately and all the activity will do her good.
The daycare has web cams, so as soon as I had a free moment, I checked them out. There was my Stella, standing regally in a corner while dogs played all around her. She actually reminded me of me on my elementary school playground, except that she wasn't carrying a book. I was a little bummed that she wasn't playing, but after awhile, she wasn't cowering either, so I figured that was some progress. But then something happened.
One of the employees came into the area to mop up what was presumably some pee on the floor. When she returned the mop to its bucket in a little gated cubby accessible from the play area, Stella, ever the velcro dog, followed the employee into the cubby. The employee, not noticing, came out and shut the door, locking Stel in.
I was conflicted. Should I call and tell them or not? I knew they would find her next time they went for the mop, but how long would that be? And would she spend that whole time drinking from the bucket? I wouldn't put it past her; she has been known to put anything and everything into her mouth. I waited a few minutes, and then I had to call. I just couldn't bear the thought of my dog drinking dirty mop water. She's eaten things way worse, but even so.
The woman who answered the phone was a little rude, I thought. The conversation went something like this.
Me: My Boston Terrier, Stella, is there today. I was just watching her on the web cam and think someone might have accidentally locked her in the little closet thing where the mop is.
Her: We've been watching her closely, because she's shy and the other dogs were barking at her. Don't worry, she's fine.
Me: OK, but I'm actually calling because someone just mopped the floor in there, and when they put the mop away, she ran into where the bucket was, and I'm pretty sure she's still in there. I don't want to be a pest or anything; I just wanted to let you know, I'm pretty sure she's locked in with the mop.
Her: OK, bye.
I wasn't expecting an apology or even a "thanks for letting us know," but I was hoping for at least a "whoops, we'll go check and let her out." I kept watching, and they did check and let her out, but even so, I was a little offended that this woman seemed so annoyed that I had called. I wasn't rude or anything; I just meant it as a sort of heads-up. My friend Marla teased me about being a "helicopter parent" for watching Stel so closely, and I had to wonder -- did I make a mistake by calling the daycare? Should I have let it go?
As a first-time dog owner, I know I have a tendency to be overprotective at times, but I'm not sure if this was one of those times. It's not like I was calling to tell them another dog was picking on Stella and needed to be punished or that she was sniffing around like she had to go potty and they ought to take her outside. This wasn't an overprotective puppy parent thing; they had locked my dog in what was basically a closet. Besides, why did they install web cams if they didn't want to hear people's comments on their dogs' activities?
I like this place; I really do. Stella was loved and pampered during her weekend stay, and even today, after she got out of the closet, she ran around and seemed to be having a decent time. So I don't want to make them mad at me...but at the same time, I really don't feel like I deserved the brush-off.
Monday, May 05, 2008
Goodbye Stranger
It's not often these days that I come across a movie that stays with me very long. I'm not sure if it's Hollywood, or me, or both, but most of what I see lately makes me laugh or cry and then forget about it as soon as I leave the theatre or return the DVD. But over the weekend, I saw a movie that, as much as I would like to, I just can't shake. And I don't think I'll be able to forget it for awhile.
I came across Into the Wild by way of its soundtrack; I had heard and loved Eddie Vedder's version of "Hard Sun," checked out the rest of the soundtrack and loved it and decided that a movie with such a good soundtrack is probably decent. A lifelong soundtrack hound, I've always been a firm believer in the importance of good music to a movie. And in this film, the music truly brought everything together. However, the story left me confused, disoriented and troubled.
Before I watched Into the Wild, I had never read Jon Krakauer's book of the same name or even heard of its real-life subject, Christopher McCandless. All I knew of McCandless' story was what I had read in a short description of the movie, that, upon graduating college, he had left his life behind to live for a time in the Alaskan wilderness. What I didn't know was why he went, or what happened to him later.
The basic facts are these -- after graduating in 1990 from Emory University, McCandless (played in the movie by Emile Hirsch) departed on a two-year journey across the country, surviving on whatever means he had and ultimately deciding to head to Alaska. He didn't tell friends or family of his plans; he had gotten rid of his identification; and he took on the pseudonym Alexander Supertramp (or Alex for short). Upon his arrival in Alaska in April 1992, he hitched and hiked to a remote location, living in an old bus that hunters used for shelter, and, lacking adequate survival materials, died in that same bus that August.
There are a few ways to tell McCandless' story, and I'm really not sure which way I think is most accurate. The movie portrays him as something of a hero, an idealist who was fed up with the pressures and ideals of the modern world and wished for a Tolstoyan adventure. There are narrations by McCandless' sister (played by Jena Malone) that tell about the family's life while the two were growing up, about the secrets their parents kept from them and the not-so-secret screaming and shoving matches they had while the children looked on in horror. He is seen as a daring and determined young man who wants nothing more than to get far away from the life he's known in search of something more substantial.
But I can't help but wonder, once Alex Supertramp is stripped away, who was the real Chris McCandless? I have no doubt that he was as daring and idealistic as the movie suggests, but I have to believe that he was also incredibly selfish and arrogant, qualities the movie repackages and sells as determination. It is no big surprise, considering the way his upbringing is portrayed, that McCandless wants to leave his family behind, at least until he collects his thoughts, but even the wonderful friends he meets along the way are pushed aside for Alaska. So did he truly touch and change lives, or did those who met and helped him see him simply as a nice kid whose family must be worried about him?
Whoever he was, I can't help but think of him as too smart to be that stupid. He was college educated, creative and driven, yet he went out into the wilderness with almost nothing. He meant to test himself but did so in a way akin to taking the SAT without a pencil. He had so much to offer the world but instead took his gifts somewhere they would not help him or anyone.
But I think what bothers me most about this whole story is the fact that Chris McCandless almost succeeded. As much as I shake my head at the hubris of this young man, I am also jealous. I have never been so adventuresome as to want to live off the land, and I've never felt as if I needed to get quite that far away from society. But I always have been somewhat of an own-drum-marcher and can certainly identify with the desire to go in search of something -- anything -- completely new. And while I've made a few leaps before looking, I've never landed without opening my eyes first.
So how is a person like me -- someone who is generally satisfied with life but never content to stop searching for something better -- to interpret the story of Chris McCandless? Should I be inspired by him, or should I feel that those who try to emulate him are foolhardy? I think maybe it's OK if it's both.
I came across Into the Wild by way of its soundtrack; I had heard and loved Eddie Vedder's version of "Hard Sun," checked out the rest of the soundtrack and loved it and decided that a movie with such a good soundtrack is probably decent. A lifelong soundtrack hound, I've always been a firm believer in the importance of good music to a movie. And in this film, the music truly brought everything together. However, the story left me confused, disoriented and troubled.
Before I watched Into the Wild, I had never read Jon Krakauer's book of the same name or even heard of its real-life subject, Christopher McCandless. All I knew of McCandless' story was what I had read in a short description of the movie, that, upon graduating college, he had left his life behind to live for a time in the Alaskan wilderness. What I didn't know was why he went, or what happened to him later.
The basic facts are these -- after graduating in 1990 from Emory University, McCandless (played in the movie by Emile Hirsch) departed on a two-year journey across the country, surviving on whatever means he had and ultimately deciding to head to Alaska. He didn't tell friends or family of his plans; he had gotten rid of his identification; and he took on the pseudonym Alexander Supertramp (or Alex for short). Upon his arrival in Alaska in April 1992, he hitched and hiked to a remote location, living in an old bus that hunters used for shelter, and, lacking adequate survival materials, died in that same bus that August.
There are a few ways to tell McCandless' story, and I'm really not sure which way I think is most accurate. The movie portrays him as something of a hero, an idealist who was fed up with the pressures and ideals of the modern world and wished for a Tolstoyan adventure. There are narrations by McCandless' sister (played by Jena Malone) that tell about the family's life while the two were growing up, about the secrets their parents kept from them and the not-so-secret screaming and shoving matches they had while the children looked on in horror. He is seen as a daring and determined young man who wants nothing more than to get far away from the life he's known in search of something more substantial.
But I can't help but wonder, once Alex Supertramp is stripped away, who was the real Chris McCandless? I have no doubt that he was as daring and idealistic as the movie suggests, but I have to believe that he was also incredibly selfish and arrogant, qualities the movie repackages and sells as determination. It is no big surprise, considering the way his upbringing is portrayed, that McCandless wants to leave his family behind, at least until he collects his thoughts, but even the wonderful friends he meets along the way are pushed aside for Alaska. So did he truly touch and change lives, or did those who met and helped him see him simply as a nice kid whose family must be worried about him?
Whoever he was, I can't help but think of him as too smart to be that stupid. He was college educated, creative and driven, yet he went out into the wilderness with almost nothing. He meant to test himself but did so in a way akin to taking the SAT without a pencil. He had so much to offer the world but instead took his gifts somewhere they would not help him or anyone.
But I think what bothers me most about this whole story is the fact that Chris McCandless almost succeeded. As much as I shake my head at the hubris of this young man, I am also jealous. I have never been so adventuresome as to want to live off the land, and I've never felt as if I needed to get quite that far away from society. But I always have been somewhat of an own-drum-marcher and can certainly identify with the desire to go in search of something -- anything -- completely new. And while I've made a few leaps before looking, I've never landed without opening my eyes first.
So how is a person like me -- someone who is generally satisfied with life but never content to stop searching for something better -- to interpret the story of Chris McCandless? Should I be inspired by him, or should I feel that those who try to emulate him are foolhardy? I think maybe it's OK if it's both.
Thursday, May 01, 2008
I Have Run Out Of UPS Slogans That I Can Turn Into Nasty Comments About The Company
If I leave any legacy at all, I would like it to be that I brought down the tyrannical power that is the United Parcel Service.
Yesterday, there was a notice on my door at home saying that UPS had come to deliver a package and missed us. I hadn't been expecting anything, so I had no idea what it might have been or if it was even for me; the notice just had our last name on it (well, our last name misspelled anyway).
I called UPS to re-route the package (which it turned out was from Williams-Sonoma and addressed to my husband and me) to my work address and was told it would be delivered today. Deliveries usually come mid-morning, so at 11:30, when no package had shown up, I went online to track my delivery.
The activity report said the package had been re-routed yesterday but then showed it was out for delivery to my home address this morning, then had been re-routed to my work address for tomorrow, because apparently, yesterday's change didn't stick.
So, whoever sent me something from Williams-Sonoma, thank you. I'm sure I would love whatever it is if UPS would actually bring it to me. And to UPS -- watch out. I will bring you down. Oh yes, I will.
Yesterday, there was a notice on my door at home saying that UPS had come to deliver a package and missed us. I hadn't been expecting anything, so I had no idea what it might have been or if it was even for me; the notice just had our last name on it (well, our last name misspelled anyway).
I called UPS to re-route the package (which it turned out was from Williams-Sonoma and addressed to my husband and me) to my work address and was told it would be delivered today. Deliveries usually come mid-morning, so at 11:30, when no package had shown up, I went online to track my delivery.
The activity report said the package had been re-routed yesterday but then showed it was out for delivery to my home address this morning, then had been re-routed to my work address for tomorrow, because apparently, yesterday's change didn't stick.
So, whoever sent me something from Williams-Sonoma, thank you. I'm sure I would love whatever it is if UPS would actually bring it to me. And to UPS -- watch out. I will bring you down. Oh yes, I will.
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