A friend sent me this article and it fired me up about an issue that already has the tendency to get me fired up.
I just googled “Emily Post” “technology etiquette” and sure enough- there’s an Emily Post website with an entire section devoted to technology. That one must be getting an average of zero hits a day.
This technology stuff is really awesome in so many ways. I do love being able to check out the new girlfriends of ex-boyfriends and read blogs written by people I’ve never met on topics that actually hold very little interest to me. Videos of baby monkeys kissing puppies really make my life more complete. The way the internet was used to organize the protests in Egypt is amazing. But not as amazing as how the internet allowed me to learn that someone named their baby Facebook as a tribute to the place the site held in the revolution. (As a friend so astutely exclaimed, “Facebook?! For a GIRL?”)
I will write unnecessarily long emails and Youtube up a storm and I certainly am no stranger to posting on Facebook. But, I fall very short on the demands society holds for technology users. Cell phone users, especially. Generally speaking, I hate talking on the phone. If you’re Danny and the Bachelor is on, I will exchange 45 texts with you on the subject. But if you’re pretty much anyone and I’m doing pretty much anything, I may or may not answer my phone, because I just don’t feel like it. This is certainly not my best quality and people have understandably gotten pissed off at me for this one on more than one occasion. (In my defense, if you leave a voicemail with any situation that seems to warrant a response, I WILL call back.) Here’s the thing. If we hang out, as in, actually in person? You can guarantee I won’t be staring at my phone when you’re talking to me. I will most likely have it on silent or maybe I even forgot to bring it with me (Little research project I’ve conducted mostly by accident when I forget to bring my phone with me- it’s very possible to get through the day without a phone).
Emily Post’s site summarizes this topic well.
Witnessing the entire population’s ADD collectively increase both depresses and infuriates me. People. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?! You are out with friends. Why are you planning the next thing? Or reading the past thing? I’m not sure if it was Ghandi who said this or not but: LIVE IN THE FRIGGIN MOMENT FOR LIKE ONE MOMENT ALL-FRIGGIN-READY. It seems that many people are under the impression that basic social skill requirements have changed with the development of new technologies. News flash: They haven’t. I’m not even concerned for people’s need to always be escaping reality and what that means for the happiness of their souls. I’m too selfish to worry about that. I’m just annoyed that I woke up from a nap to come and hang out and now hanging out seem to mean me watching someone play Angry Birds.
And how many times does Oprah need to tell you? LIVE YOUR BEST LIFE! On no. Not that. Wrong Oprah lesson. DON’T TEXT WHILE YOU DRIVE!
And while I’m on this rant about technology, some of my Facebook gripes:
Apparently this pet peeve of mine has a nickname...vaguebooking. Oh man, how it gets me. “Hoping a certain someone does a certain something!” Just write what you mean: Ask me about my new boyfriend/job/fish/neuroses/whatever.
People getting pissed off at days of the week. Who knew this would become a trend?? I hate when I’m having a bad day and some know-it-all tries to “put it in perspective” with an actual global crisis. I know it must really suck to be caught in the Libyan crossfire but gosh darnit, I forgot my lunch AND there was a weird smelly guy talking to me during my entire train ride to work. HOWEVER. The repeated wah wah Debbie Downer status updates directed at days, “I broke a nail. Thanks a LOT, Tuesday!” Really? Is it Tuesday’s fault you put on your grumpy pants, which incidentally must be extremely dirty because you’ve worn them EVERY day since ever.
Old people (yes, I fall into this category) who don’t know how to work the internet. Think carefully before posting on teenagers' walls. You’re embarrassing everyone.
All right...I could go on but instead I will take my own advice and go change out of my grumpy pants.
Thanks a LOT, Monday.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Election Day
I’m a real sucker for Election Day. Politics very often frustrate the hell out of me, and politicians very often sicken me, but I’m a huge fan of democracy and this day where we all take a stand for what we believe. I get a little choked up EVERY TIME I vote.
There are a few things in this world that absolutely drive me insane. Among them: Homophobia, movies in which live animals have human voices, corporate catch phrases like “let’s take a 30,000 view” and apathy. Voter apathy really gets my goat.
I’m not saying everyone should go out and run for office, or volunteer for a candidate- it’s VOTING. It’s making a choice. I think most people agree that the system is nuts and politics is full of a lot of bullshit, but so what. There are very few things in this world that aren’t at least partially nuts and full of bullshit.
And that brings me to my family.
I come from a family in which we are all passionate about politics. Our actual voting choices span the entire political spectrum which certainly leads to some frustrating conversations and headaches, but (I think) I’m thankful for it. This mixed bag of political opinions forces me to see things from many sides. I often feel a bit defensive when my fellow progressive/liberal types immediately demonize conservatives and do that stereotyping thing we all love to do. This us/them thing is the easy cop-out. It would be so simple if every issue just had one of two very clear answers.
One of the main reasons I’m politically progressive is because my Republican parents raised me to be that way. They hammered home the point that voting is important. I grew up watching them discuss politics with each other, attend rallies for things in which they believed, and write strongly worded letters when they deemed it necessary. I learned from their example that volunteering is a way of life and it’s important to give- whether it be political campaigns or your church or your favorite charity- financially and with your time. I read from their boring selection of conservative magazines and learned the ways of political rhetoric. I did go through a conservative phase in high school, but ironically I think the Christian youth group of which I was a part, led me to be more liberal. (That’s another story entirely). When it came time for me to vote, I read and researched and talked to people and, as it turned out, those decisions led me in a much more liberal direction than my parents.
Thinking back, my parents never told me how I should vote or what I should believe. I’m pretty sure we’ve never voted the same in any election but whenever I get involved in any political event, my Mom tells me that she’s proud that I take a stand. When Bush was elected, my Mom called and said, “I’m sorry. You must be very disappointed.” I cracked up. She was so sincere.
I do recall a heated discussion with my Dad about public education in which I said, “I’m the product of public education.” He yelled, while laughing, “You’ve just proven my point!!” Touché, mon pere. Touché.
Speaking of my father, I’ve instructed him that should a gentleman ever ask for his blessing to marry me, that he is not allowed to express an opinion because whenever he is given two choices of people to vote for, he has never picked one that I agree with, so I am certainly not leaving it up to him to decide who I should spend my entire life with. (I would, however, agree with his inevitable disdain for the number of ending prepositions in that sentence).
That said, I am very thankful for my conservative parents and the part they’ve played in making me the hippy liberal that I am today.
Happy Election Day, everyone. Go vote.
P.S. Speaking of the election: My politically obsessed friend Chad and I once wrote (just in our heads) a bunch of awesome scenes for a rom com loosely (totally) based on his life about a guy trying to find love on the campaign trail. It’s called “Hanging Chad” and had a tagline along the lines of “Counting votes…for love.” (The sequel will obviously be “Pregnant Chad.”) But I just realized, it wouldn’t be a rom com- it’d be a Rahm Com. Buh dump bump.
There are a few things in this world that absolutely drive me insane. Among them: Homophobia, movies in which live animals have human voices, corporate catch phrases like “let’s take a 30,000 view” and apathy. Voter apathy really gets my goat.
I’m not saying everyone should go out and run for office, or volunteer for a candidate- it’s VOTING. It’s making a choice. I think most people agree that the system is nuts and politics is full of a lot of bullshit, but so what. There are very few things in this world that aren’t at least partially nuts and full of bullshit.
And that brings me to my family.
I come from a family in which we are all passionate about politics. Our actual voting choices span the entire political spectrum which certainly leads to some frustrating conversations and headaches, but (I think) I’m thankful for it. This mixed bag of political opinions forces me to see things from many sides. I often feel a bit defensive when my fellow progressive/liberal types immediately demonize conservatives and do that stereotyping thing we all love to do. This us/them thing is the easy cop-out. It would be so simple if every issue just had one of two very clear answers.
One of the main reasons I’m politically progressive is because my Republican parents raised me to be that way. They hammered home the point that voting is important. I grew up watching them discuss politics with each other, attend rallies for things in which they believed, and write strongly worded letters when they deemed it necessary. I learned from their example that volunteering is a way of life and it’s important to give- whether it be political campaigns or your church or your favorite charity- financially and with your time. I read from their boring selection of conservative magazines and learned the ways of political rhetoric. I did go through a conservative phase in high school, but ironically I think the Christian youth group of which I was a part, led me to be more liberal. (That’s another story entirely). When it came time for me to vote, I read and researched and talked to people and, as it turned out, those decisions led me in a much more liberal direction than my parents.
Thinking back, my parents never told me how I should vote or what I should believe. I’m pretty sure we’ve never voted the same in any election but whenever I get involved in any political event, my Mom tells me that she’s proud that I take a stand. When Bush was elected, my Mom called and said, “I’m sorry. You must be very disappointed.” I cracked up. She was so sincere.
I do recall a heated discussion with my Dad about public education in which I said, “I’m the product of public education.” He yelled, while laughing, “You’ve just proven my point!!” Touché, mon pere. Touché.
Speaking of my father, I’ve instructed him that should a gentleman ever ask for his blessing to marry me, that he is not allowed to express an opinion because whenever he is given two choices of people to vote for, he has never picked one that I agree with, so I am certainly not leaving it up to him to decide who I should spend my entire life with. (I would, however, agree with his inevitable disdain for the number of ending prepositions in that sentence).
That said, I am very thankful for my conservative parents and the part they’ve played in making me the hippy liberal that I am today.
Happy Election Day, everyone. Go vote.
P.S. Speaking of the election: My politically obsessed friend Chad and I once wrote (just in our heads) a bunch of awesome scenes for a rom com loosely (totally) based on his life about a guy trying to find love on the campaign trail. It’s called “Hanging Chad” and had a tagline along the lines of “Counting votes…for love.” (The sequel will obviously be “Pregnant Chad.”) But I just realized, it wouldn’t be a rom com- it’d be a Rahm Com. Buh dump bump.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Why I'm Not Married (according to Tracy McMillan)
A friend posted this article, "Why You're Not Married, by Tracy McMillan on Facebook yesterday and a bit of debate ensued about it in the comment section.
I love this article. As an unmarried woman, I think Tracy is right on. The article is directed at a certain subset of the population wondering why they're not married and is obviously using extremes to make the point and probably to get published. But I think she's right. As I said in my too long comment on a friend's FB wall, there could be plenty of companion pieces written to other common questions and scenarios. "Why You're in a Crappy Marriage." "Why You Never Go 3 Seconds Without Being in a Relationship." "Why You Don't Have Any Female Friends." And then a whole host of articles for the gentleman. "Why You Keep Dating Women You Don't Really Even Like That Much." "Why You Will Never Come Out of the Closet and Instead You Will Continue to Waste Women's Time in Totally Unfulfilling Relationships."
I don't really wonder why I'm not married. I'm pretty sure I get it. To use Tracy's terms, I'm a selfish, bitch. Actually more selfish, than a bitch. I really love my life and it's going to take a super awesome fella to make me want to prioritize him in my life. I have been known to a be a liar in the past, but I think I'm over that. The liar thing is an EPIDEMIC though. SO many women I know have done/are doing this. Guys...news flash...you didn't luck out and meet the one woman who's so cool with where you're at in life and is just fine seeing where it goes. Ask any of her gal pals and they will know the names of your future children (obviously never to actually be born because at some point when she has a weak moment and actually admits how in love with you she is, you will get quiet and say "I don't know what to say" and she will start sobbing and after months of pointless discussions, she will force you to end it and you will start dating that chick you'd been fantasizing about for a while). I'M NOT EVEN KIDDING. I wish I was kidding. We've actually looked at her wedding dress online. Her wedding dress for when she marries YOU.
The other day I had a funny little guy-related scenario ensue and a close friend of mine said, "Now THAT is even ridiculous for one of OUR storyboards." One of our storyboards. Right. Because we ALWAYS have storyboards! Cause we're ladies!
I have disappointed more than one man when it becomes painfully obvious that I am actually a woman. If in the beginning he says anything remotely close to, "Wow...it's so easy to date you. You're so easygoing. It's like hanging out with my guy friends." I know that's trouble waiting to happen. Oh, of course...I'm just like your guy friends except my hair smells like coconut and I have girl parts. This thought of his is quickly dashed the moment he says something kinda sorta maybe that I could possibly take the wrong way and I start to cry. Dude...don't like it? Give your buddy some Aveda shampoo and some implants and DATE HIM. Now if you'll excuse me my friends and I have to figure out the details of where you and I will be honeymooning. These storyboards don't write themselves, asshole!
Sheesh.
Yup...pretty clear on why I'm not married.
Thanks, Tracy McMillan. You gave me a lot to think about.
I love this article. As an unmarried woman, I think Tracy is right on. The article is directed at a certain subset of the population wondering why they're not married and is obviously using extremes to make the point and probably to get published. But I think she's right. As I said in my too long comment on a friend's FB wall, there could be plenty of companion pieces written to other common questions and scenarios. "Why You're in a Crappy Marriage." "Why You Never Go 3 Seconds Without Being in a Relationship." "Why You Don't Have Any Female Friends." And then a whole host of articles for the gentleman. "Why You Keep Dating Women You Don't Really Even Like That Much." "Why You Will Never Come Out of the Closet and Instead You Will Continue to Waste Women's Time in Totally Unfulfilling Relationships."
I don't really wonder why I'm not married. I'm pretty sure I get it. To use Tracy's terms, I'm a selfish, bitch. Actually more selfish, than a bitch. I really love my life and it's going to take a super awesome fella to make me want to prioritize him in my life. I have been known to a be a liar in the past, but I think I'm over that. The liar thing is an EPIDEMIC though. SO many women I know have done/are doing this. Guys...news flash...you didn't luck out and meet the one woman who's so cool with where you're at in life and is just fine seeing where it goes. Ask any of her gal pals and they will know the names of your future children (obviously never to actually be born because at some point when she has a weak moment and actually admits how in love with you she is, you will get quiet and say "I don't know what to say" and she will start sobbing and after months of pointless discussions, she will force you to end it and you will start dating that chick you'd been fantasizing about for a while). I'M NOT EVEN KIDDING. I wish I was kidding. We've actually looked at her wedding dress online. Her wedding dress for when she marries YOU.
The other day I had a funny little guy-related scenario ensue and a close friend of mine said, "Now THAT is even ridiculous for one of OUR storyboards." One of our storyboards. Right. Because we ALWAYS have storyboards! Cause we're ladies!
I have disappointed more than one man when it becomes painfully obvious that I am actually a woman. If in the beginning he says anything remotely close to, "Wow...it's so easy to date you. You're so easygoing. It's like hanging out with my guy friends." I know that's trouble waiting to happen. Oh, of course...I'm just like your guy friends except my hair smells like coconut and I have girl parts. This thought of his is quickly dashed the moment he says something kinda sorta maybe that I could possibly take the wrong way and I start to cry. Dude...don't like it? Give your buddy some Aveda shampoo and some implants and DATE HIM. Now if you'll excuse me my friends and I have to figure out the details of where you and I will be honeymooning. These storyboards don't write themselves, asshole!
Sheesh.
Yup...pretty clear on why I'm not married.
Thanks, Tracy McMillan. You gave me a lot to think about.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Valentine's Day Cheer
Got on the red line this morning headed north from Belmont. Two guys, looking a little worse for wear, were in the midst of a conversation bitching about public transportation.
Guy #1: I guess the train is okay but I fuckin hate the bus.
Guy #2: Yeah, the bus really sucks.
Guy #1: Have you talked to Rick?
Guy #2: I don’t fuckin care what he does anymore. He knows he needs to quit drinking but he won’t and I’m tired of hearing him bitch about everything.
Guy #1: Yeah, you’re right.
(Some silence)
Guy #1: (leans head back on the seat, looking extremely exasperated) I bet there’s gonna be a lotta cheer at the office today.
Guy #2: Cheer? Why would there be cheer at the office?
Guy #1: Cause of Valentine’s Day.
Guy #2: Oh shit, I hope not.
Guy #1: I guess the train is okay but I fuckin hate the bus.
Guy #2: Yeah, the bus really sucks.
Guy #1: Have you talked to Rick?
Guy #2: I don’t fuckin care what he does anymore. He knows he needs to quit drinking but he won’t and I’m tired of hearing him bitch about everything.
Guy #1: Yeah, you’re right.
(Some silence)
Guy #1: (leans head back on the seat, looking extremely exasperated) I bet there’s gonna be a lotta cheer at the office today.
Guy #2: Cheer? Why would there be cheer at the office?
Guy #1: Cause of Valentine’s Day.
Guy #2: Oh shit, I hope not.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
He loved phlebotomy.
Yesterday at work there was a memorial service for a client who passed away. I didn’t know him but went anyway. About 30 other clients and a bunch of staff were there. Some of the things said:
“I got to watch MASH with him the day before he had to go to the hospital.”
“He was a good friend. He was my best friend. And that’s all I have to say.”
“He did an awesome impression of Achilles in Drama Class!”
“He loved food and would tell you if what you made was delicious or tasteless.” (Shout from the back of the room) “He was a conisseur of food!!”
“He loved phlebotomy and in art class he made a sculpture of an arm and put a toothpick in it.”
“When I saw him, he was smiling before anyone even started talking!”
“He was a cool guy. He was always listening to music. He had a real nice way about it. I’ll miss him.”
“I remember fighting with him over the TV. He ALWAYS wanted to watch baseball.”
“I learned everything I know about sports from him.”
“His smile always made me happy.”
“He loved Outback Steak House. But buffalo wings were his favorite.”
“Education was important to him. And he loved his family. He was always talking about his family.”
I can only guess what kind of hardships he dealt with in life based on his mental illness and how that illness may’ve often defined him- at least in some people’s eyes. But when was the last time they made a sculpture of an arm and put a toothpick in it as a tribute to their love of phlebotomy? To those that knew him best, talking about him resulted in laughter and smiles. It sounded like a life well-lived to me.
It makes me think it’s time to rewatch “Harold and Maude.”
“I got to watch MASH with him the day before he had to go to the hospital.”
“He was a good friend. He was my best friend. And that’s all I have to say.”
“He did an awesome impression of Achilles in Drama Class!”
“He loved food and would tell you if what you made was delicious or tasteless.” (Shout from the back of the room) “He was a conisseur of food!!”
“He loved phlebotomy and in art class he made a sculpture of an arm and put a toothpick in it.”
“When I saw him, he was smiling before anyone even started talking!”
“He was a cool guy. He was always listening to music. He had a real nice way about it. I’ll miss him.”
“I remember fighting with him over the TV. He ALWAYS wanted to watch baseball.”
“I learned everything I know about sports from him.”
“His smile always made me happy.”
“He loved Outback Steak House. But buffalo wings were his favorite.”
“Education was important to him. And he loved his family. He was always talking about his family.”
I can only guess what kind of hardships he dealt with in life based on his mental illness and how that illness may’ve often defined him- at least in some people’s eyes. But when was the last time they made a sculpture of an arm and put a toothpick in it as a tribute to their love of phlebotomy? To those that knew him best, talking about him resulted in laughter and smiles. It sounded like a life well-lived to me.
It makes me think it’s time to rewatch “Harold and Maude.”
Monday, February 7, 2011
Groupoff is more like it. SEE WHAT I DID THERE?
If I had more will power, I'd never buy another Groupon based on that ridiculously offensive Super Bowl commercial alone. What's next...
What's the big whoop with that Egyptian dictator, when you can have such delish kebabs?!!!? Am I right, ladies and germs?! Just pay us $10 and we'll give you millions of bucks worth of offensive commercials exploiting entire cultures...and a piece of lamb on a stick!
But. I don't have that kind of will power. I DO have the kind of will power that will make me think a wee bit harder before I buy another Groupon again. So clearly...with a backlash like THIS, they'll be going under any day now.
What's the big whoop with that Egyptian dictator, when you can have such delish kebabs?!!!? Am I right, ladies and germs?! Just pay us $10 and we'll give you millions of bucks worth of offensive commercials exploiting entire cultures...and a piece of lamb on a stick!
But. I don't have that kind of will power. I DO have the kind of will power that will make me think a wee bit harder before I buy another Groupon again. So clearly...with a backlash like THIS, they'll be going under any day now.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Because food is love.
Here we go again. Grace? Coincidence? Just being more aware of something because it’s what’s been on my mind? Maybe all of the above and maybe all of the above are one in the same. Either way…the universe has done it again.
So here’s the deal. My sweet 8 month old niece has put on the proverbial boxing gloves and is fighting a battle with cancer. Chemo begins this week. I don’t think I need to outline how much this sucks. If anyone can win this fight, it’s this gal. She’s got a whole troop of devoted fans on her side (family, doctors, friends, kind strangers).
The other day I was feeling particularly helpless and thought that maybe it would be good to volunteer at the Ronald McDonald House in Chicago. I’ve heard great things about the place and it looks like my family will be using their services in Atlanta. If I can’t be down there to help, at least I could do a little something to help out families in Chicago who are going through something similar. I downloaded the volunteer application and just kind of figured it would be something I’d deal with at some point.
This morning I headed to church figuring the music and reflection and kind people would do a body and mind good. Well, it did. It’s why I keep going back. That and things like this are said in sermons: “Have you guys seen “Brokeback Mountain? OF COURSE. I should’ve assumed that this congregation has seen Brokeback Mountain.” I sat listening to some sweet tune the choir busted out and my mind wandered in all sorts of directions. Then my friend Maria got up to speak. I perked up because who doesn’t love Maria and want to hear what she has to say?
Maria talked, with much humor and eloquence, about her career path and her ongoing journey to figure out what she’s passionate about and how she wants to use those gifts in her life. Thankfully for the rest of us, one of Maria’s great gifts is baking. Another is generosity. Combine the two and suddenly I’m shoving my piehole with the best coconut cake ever produced. But I digress. Kind of. Maria talked about how she’s putting her passions to use in her involvement with the Night Ministry in Chicago and the monthly meals she organizes (from menu planning to cooking to serving). This made me think...
What am I passionate about? Family. Friends. Delicious food prepared with love. Playing guitar badly but loving it anyway. Humor. Creativity. Chicago. The community at Holy Covenant United Methodist Church (even thought I’m not Methodist and don’t even really know what it means and am not sure I care that much at this point because I love it there). Volunteering. Staying healthy. Enjoying the outdoors. Appreciating the differences in people. Writing. And that people should take their fucking lawn chairs out of these parking spots that they don’t own. And many more things.
My thoughts wandered back to that volunteer application from Ronald McDonald House sitting on my desktop. Here’s what I came up with. I’d like to organize cooking a meal for the residents at Ronald McDonald House at least once a month. I hope to get a posse of pals together to head over there and cook up the meal with me. I hope these meals will be interesting and delicious with as many locally grown ingredients as possible. Because that’s the NPR-listening, urban, yuppie-type I enjoy being sometimes. I’m happy to donate money to pay for the meals but cooking for about 50 once a month may be beyond my budget. Hmmm...how to pay for it. Let’s check the list of passions…sell lawn chairs? Maybe but not feasible all year round. Oh…play guitar badly and charge people! YES! I will make (suggest to) some of my Old Town pals play somewhere and we can charge a nominal fee that can go to my monthly meals at Ronald McDonald House fund. Fun will be had by all.
I’ll figure out the logistics for RMH and let Chicago folks know when I’m gonna get my cook on. Feel free to join me. In the mean time, prayers and good thoughts for my little gal are very much appreciated.
She comes from a long line of strong folks so I have faith that she’ll KO cancer.
Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, little lady.
So here’s the deal. My sweet 8 month old niece has put on the proverbial boxing gloves and is fighting a battle with cancer. Chemo begins this week. I don’t think I need to outline how much this sucks. If anyone can win this fight, it’s this gal. She’s got a whole troop of devoted fans on her side (family, doctors, friends, kind strangers).
The other day I was feeling particularly helpless and thought that maybe it would be good to volunteer at the Ronald McDonald House in Chicago. I’ve heard great things about the place and it looks like my family will be using their services in Atlanta. If I can’t be down there to help, at least I could do a little something to help out families in Chicago who are going through something similar. I downloaded the volunteer application and just kind of figured it would be something I’d deal with at some point.
This morning I headed to church figuring the music and reflection and kind people would do a body and mind good. Well, it did. It’s why I keep going back. That and things like this are said in sermons: “Have you guys seen “Brokeback Mountain? OF COURSE. I should’ve assumed that this congregation has seen Brokeback Mountain.” I sat listening to some sweet tune the choir busted out and my mind wandered in all sorts of directions. Then my friend Maria got up to speak. I perked up because who doesn’t love Maria and want to hear what she has to say?
Maria talked, with much humor and eloquence, about her career path and her ongoing journey to figure out what she’s passionate about and how she wants to use those gifts in her life. Thankfully for the rest of us, one of Maria’s great gifts is baking. Another is generosity. Combine the two and suddenly I’m shoving my piehole with the best coconut cake ever produced. But I digress. Kind of. Maria talked about how she’s putting her passions to use in her involvement with the Night Ministry in Chicago and the monthly meals she organizes (from menu planning to cooking to serving). This made me think...
What am I passionate about? Family. Friends. Delicious food prepared with love. Playing guitar badly but loving it anyway. Humor. Creativity. Chicago. The community at Holy Covenant United Methodist Church (even thought I’m not Methodist and don’t even really know what it means and am not sure I care that much at this point because I love it there). Volunteering. Staying healthy. Enjoying the outdoors. Appreciating the differences in people. Writing. And that people should take their fucking lawn chairs out of these parking spots that they don’t own. And many more things.
My thoughts wandered back to that volunteer application from Ronald McDonald House sitting on my desktop. Here’s what I came up with. I’d like to organize cooking a meal for the residents at Ronald McDonald House at least once a month. I hope to get a posse of pals together to head over there and cook up the meal with me. I hope these meals will be interesting and delicious with as many locally grown ingredients as possible. Because that’s the NPR-listening, urban, yuppie-type I enjoy being sometimes. I’m happy to donate money to pay for the meals but cooking for about 50 once a month may be beyond my budget. Hmmm...how to pay for it. Let’s check the list of passions…sell lawn chairs? Maybe but not feasible all year round. Oh…play guitar badly and charge people! YES! I will make (suggest to) some of my Old Town pals play somewhere and we can charge a nominal fee that can go to my monthly meals at Ronald McDonald House fund. Fun will be had by all.
I’ll figure out the logistics for RMH and let Chicago folks know when I’m gonna get my cook on. Feel free to join me. In the mean time, prayers and good thoughts for my little gal are very much appreciated.
She comes from a long line of strong folks so I have faith that she’ll KO cancer.
Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, little lady.
Parking
Just yesterday I got myself worked up about the "save a parking spot with a lawn chair" phenomenon that seems to occur on city streets after a snow storm. The city owns the spot but the combination of feelings of entitlement and unused summer furniture lead to what I find to be an infuriating selfish practice.
Netflix must've sensed my disgust because they recommended the documentary "The Parking Lot" to me. I just watched it while paying bills. I loved it. It follows a group of parking lot attendants who work at a lot in Charlottesville, VA. They're hilarious people. Not much happens in the movie aside from the attendants' quips and rants about humanity based on their interactions with the folks that park at The Corner Parking Lot.
I particularly enjoyed one guy's rant about the chick from high school who didn't want to pay him 40 cents to park. She gave him shit for where he was at in life, meanwhile she was driving her Dad's SUV. Spoiler alert: He's now the bassist in Yo La Tengo.
Also: This dude should get a record contract.
In other annoying parking lot news, one of my least favorite corporate speak phrases is "Let's put that in the parking lot." For those lucky enough to have avoided hearing this stupid phrase, it means, "Well Bob...I think that idea is stupid but I'm going to be passive aggressive for a moment and pretend that we'll get to it later." In short, the imaginary "parking lot" is where ideas go to die.
Drive safe, kids.
Netflix must've sensed my disgust because they recommended the documentary "The Parking Lot" to me. I just watched it while paying bills. I loved it. It follows a group of parking lot attendants who work at a lot in Charlottesville, VA. They're hilarious people. Not much happens in the movie aside from the attendants' quips and rants about humanity based on their interactions with the folks that park at The Corner Parking Lot.
I particularly enjoyed one guy's rant about the chick from high school who didn't want to pay him 40 cents to park. She gave him shit for where he was at in life, meanwhile she was driving her Dad's SUV. Spoiler alert: He's now the bassist in Yo La Tengo.
Also: This dude should get a record contract.
In other annoying parking lot news, one of my least favorite corporate speak phrases is "Let's put that in the parking lot." For those lucky enough to have avoided hearing this stupid phrase, it means, "Well Bob...I think that idea is stupid but I'm going to be passive aggressive for a moment and pretend that we'll get to it later." In short, the imaginary "parking lot" is where ideas go to die.
Drive safe, kids.
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