It's the year of football immersion for me, minus my actual learning the rules of the game (I've tried- it always just looks like a bunch of dudes in a pile). Anyway, this time I was in a bar for a Saints game. I kind of like Saints fans- a little rough around the edges, but they're well aware. I sat next to this dude whose name I no longer remember, but his image burned in my mind. He looked and spoke much like Joe Dirt, but his mullet wasn't so pronounced. Or, it was just covered by his baseball cap. He opened with a lengthy explanation of why he could, but still wouldn't beat the crap out of the scrappy kid sitting next to him:
Dude: "Look, I didn't get to be famous by beating up little people."
Me: "... you're famous?"
Dude; "That's not important..."
We really connected when he prefaced his next bit with "I don't want you to think I'm hitting on you, but..." He continued: "You and I- we're a lot alike." We are? "We are. You see - we both have these beautiful, striking blue eyes, but people always comment on your nose. Don't they?" I replied, "um, yea, I guess when I was a kid..." He continued: "both of us! We're beautiful. These crystal clear blue eyes... with a strong nose. I like to call it a strong nose. But you're beautiful even with that. Hell- we both are. People may not see that right away, but we are."
And... that hillbilly may be up for compliminsult of the year, followed closely behind that dude at my old job who commented on "how nicely I'd filled out in recent months with my fat face and all." I sure am glad he prefaced his discussion with how much he was not hitting on me. Because, flattering me with those charming nods as he was, I may just marry the dude.
Other "overheards:"
"These is my pet peeves: tardiness and people not being where they is supposed to be." It is funny. I know some people for whom subject-verb agreement is a pet peeve. Maybe they could all hang out. It sounds like that dude runs a tight ship.
"I got cut off at Hooters last night." - M. A girl.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Pearls for keg stands
Over the weekend, I had my first southern college football experience in Charlottesville at the UVA/Virginia Tech game. It was a big deal, and maybe the most severe culture shock I've experienced while still in this country. In a fascinating display of hyper-masculine regalia, I witnessed some of the most unabashedly arrogant, self-centered, pretentious awesomeness I've ever seen. With the marching band, the dance team, the cheerleaders (I could learn some moves from them!), people running around with flags, and a clever, holiday-themed cartoon of how badly UVA was going to beat VT (I think it involved converting a "hokie" into a turkey, then placing it in the oven for a Thanksgiving feast), I was braced for UVA domination. Wrong. Apparently this is an age old tradition they maintain where they act like they're really good, but then lose every game. It's a thing. You wouldn't get it, you yankee.
Lost in a sea of moderately attractive white people, I had to remind myself that they were not just a bunch of the bad guys in one of those cheesy 80s teen movies (although I'm half convinced they actually were) and that it was real life. Most of you probably get the VT/UVA rivalry. It was news to me, though- blew my mind. Some of my best "overheards" came from B's facebook minifeed, as she apparently only establishes online friendships with graduates or students of fancy southern colleges where they eat their lunch off china, wear pearls to do keg stands, and serve wine and cheese instead of burgers and brew. The inside joke, if you're new to this like I am, is that UVA thinks they're smarter and "classier" than VT, and that VT people are redneckish. Or something. But check these out:
"Wine... $20. Brie... $8. Watching the 'hoos beat VT to win the coastal division? Priceless." - some dude's facebook status. An actual man. That's real. I guess this is a good place to point out that VT crushed UVA by almost 40 points. I wonder whether he issued a new status update afterward.
"Culture vs. Agriculture 2011!" - several people on facebook. Apparently, culture is a reaction that occurs when you mix racism and assorted other bigotry with bow ties and cheap white wine. Love y'all, though.
"They're gonna know you're mocking them!" -B, commenting on my choice to wear pearls along with my chucks to the game.
"I didn't know they let retards into this college." - someone's dad, with his eyes crossed. This was fun- I watched some prepubescent UVA college freshman (probably) walk backwards talking trash to a bunch of parents. He was really fired up- "You think you stand a chance? Who the f*** are you? You're no one! We played FSU! Who did you play?!" along with a bunch of other rando football stats I immediately forgot. I was laughing and almost commented on how those VT parents were showing some class by laughing it off. Then the dad crosses his eyes and starts drawling out insults that were just degrading to those with learning disabilities instead of the budding date rapists he was faced with. It was ugly.
Finally, did y'all know that the UVA president rolls in a motorcade? Yep, everything's fancy there.
I did, however, have some non-ironic fun with some legit alums of a sorority. Those gals can make sh** happen.
Alright. Now that I'm done feeling inferior for attending another school, I'm back to my packing to get to Mexico. Stay tuned- because that should be a good one...
Oh, and PS- the "good ole' app" is a real thing. I think you can pay homage to Thomas Jefferson, order a wheel of brie, vandalize a home, and pop your collar if you program your iPhone correctly.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Bacon and Gunfire.
I am sitting in my neighborhood coffee shop (yes- chucks on and laptop open. I'm laughing at myself right now. There is a neighborhood gathering at one of the tables that, based on their conversations, is a special kind of group: gathering the only white people in the neighborhood, and drinking together once a month. They're talking excitedly about community building in Northeast and having "all" the neighbors together. It's pretty great. Other redeeming factors of this otherwise noisy group? A baby at the bar (yes- there's a bar at the only coffee shop I frequent. shut up). "You brought your baby to drinking night!" "Aw, he looks so little on you!" Just some of what I've heard on this.
Other good stuff...
B (quietly): "I really wish there were bacon on this gingerbread."
Me: "I'm sorry... what?"
B (sternly): "you heard me."
E, on lessons learned in the neighborhood represented above: "Well. Since moving to northeast, I've learned that gunfire from the inside sounds like thunder, while gunfire from the outside sounds like fireworks. "
"Does anyone ever tell you that you look just like Ellen DeGeneres?" -at least three people per week, ever since I cut my hair. Yup- Ellen. Just the look I was going for. Short blonde hair and a snarky demeanor? There you are. I like to think I favor Scarlett Johanssen. Or Angelina Jolie. Nope- not even Portia... Ellen.
"There are very strict rules on that dance floor." -dude at the bar, on Remingtons, a capitol hill gay mans country western karaoke bar.
"I am SO done with the Holocaust. But it's the next book in book club." -chick at the bar. "I didn't know about book club! And they STILL haven't invited me to game night." -dude she's chatting with. Talk about some real problems!
They're the best. It's like - the drunker they get, the better!
Other good stuff...
B (quietly): "I really wish there were bacon on this gingerbread."
Me: "I'm sorry... what?"
B (sternly): "you heard me."
E, on lessons learned in the neighborhood represented above: "Well. Since moving to northeast, I've learned that gunfire from the inside sounds like thunder, while gunfire from the outside sounds like fireworks. "
"Does anyone ever tell you that you look just like Ellen DeGeneres?" -at least three people per week, ever since I cut my hair. Yup- Ellen. Just the look I was going for. Short blonde hair and a snarky demeanor? There you are. I like to think I favor Scarlett Johanssen. Or Angelina Jolie. Nope- not even Portia... Ellen.
"There are very strict rules on that dance floor." -dude at the bar, on Remingtons, a capitol hill gay mans country western karaoke bar.
"I am SO done with the Holocaust. But it's the next book in book club." -chick at the bar. "I didn't know about book club! And they STILL haven't invited me to game night." -dude she's chatting with. Talk about some real problems!
They're the best. It's like - the drunker they get, the better!
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Marriage and Chicken
On a facebook page following the earthquake: "That's just a warning from God about what's going to happen if you elect that a**hole again." Keep it classy, right wing, keep it classy.
Overheard on the d6:
Middle aged woman with lots of layers (early August. Non of this earthquake/chilly morning crap we've had lately), to a man sitting beside her:
"I'm scared of marriage, and I'm scared of chicken. My husband I split up years ago. I been having so much fun since then... oooeee! (shakes head self righteously) But not the wrong kind of fun... the right kind of fun. Walkin with the Lord. Jesus- he send me boyfriends now and again... and we cool til we ain't, and then I just sends 'em right back!" Good idea, lady. Just send 'em back when they ain't. These are lessons all women should learn!
Spotted on the metro: the best outfit of the year.
The culprit? A middle aged man with a thick, Eric Holder-style mustache. He sported a backwards Texans baseball cap, but the kind with the flat lid that people in rap videos wear. He also had cuffed skinny jeans, boat shoes, and a sweatshirt that portrayed Santa Clause stabbing a Thanksgiving turkey. He sat there with a rough attitude on his pursed lips, and wove a friendship bracelet on his afternoon commute. Solid outfit, overall. On a 1-10, he's a certified 20.
Overheard at a Twins game:
All American Guy 1: "Katy Perry looks like Zoey Deschanel if she were made of taffy and you stretched her face."
All American Guy 2: "Have you heard her on the Proactive Commercial? She sounds exactly like Tara Reid."
All American Guy 1: "Is Tara Reid still alive?"
That's all I've got.
Overheard on the d6:
Middle aged woman with lots of layers (early August. Non of this earthquake/chilly morning crap we've had lately), to a man sitting beside her:
"I'm scared of marriage, and I'm scared of chicken. My husband I split up years ago. I been having so much fun since then... oooeee! (shakes head self righteously) But not the wrong kind of fun... the right kind of fun. Walkin with the Lord. Jesus- he send me boyfriends now and again... and we cool til we ain't, and then I just sends 'em right back!" Good idea, lady. Just send 'em back when they ain't. These are lessons all women should learn!
Spotted on the metro: the best outfit of the year.
The culprit? A middle aged man with a thick, Eric Holder-style mustache. He sported a backwards Texans baseball cap, but the kind with the flat lid that people in rap videos wear. He also had cuffed skinny jeans, boat shoes, and a sweatshirt that portrayed Santa Clause stabbing a Thanksgiving turkey. He sat there with a rough attitude on his pursed lips, and wove a friendship bracelet on his afternoon commute. Solid outfit, overall. On a 1-10, he's a certified 20.
Overheard at a Twins game:
All American Guy 1: "Katy Perry looks like Zoey Deschanel if she were made of taffy and you stretched her face."
All American Guy 2: "Have you heard her on the Proactive Commercial? She sounds exactly like Tara Reid."
All American Guy 1: "Is Tara Reid still alive?"
That's all I've got.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
In retrospect, lime green was a tacky color choice
I received the following text message from an informant:
"OMG. Just rode the X2 down H Street with at least 20 loud cross dressers. The one sitting across from me was wearing a really short dress, and I could see a ball hanging out of his lime green panties. I could not make this up. I wish you had been there."
I wish I were there, too, informant friend. Nothing jazzes up my Tuesday evening like lime green panties.
"OMG. Just rode the X2 down H Street with at least 20 loud cross dressers. The one sitting across from me was wearing a really short dress, and I could see a ball hanging out of his lime green panties. I could not make this up. I wish you had been there."
I wish I were there, too, informant friend. Nothing jazzes up my Tuesday evening like lime green panties.
Are ya eatin' my bagel?
"C'mon, ladies, let's get moving. I gotta get goin. What, are ya eatin' my bagel back there?" -sweaty middle aged balding man in orthopaedic shoes, sweating profusely and pacing nervously at the Corner Bakery. Lesson of the day- it's always good to talk down to the people who prepare your food. This does not encourage them to spit in/drop/otherwise worsen the food you just paid for.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
5 Reasons the gym sucks
I've been nursing an IT band injury from running too much without doing any strength training. I know, O, that you told me this ahead of time, but I really do hate the gym. It took me years to go from hating running with a fiery passion to being able to stand it to legitimately enjoying it. I don't really feel like the same slow curve with the gym. That said, I've accepted it as a necessity, so decided to take the week long trial membership to a local gym that my work provided for free. Maybe I'll buckle down and get a membership.
Needless to say, I had a sour attitude going in from the start, which was not right. I should have been pumped. But I felt like an adolescent being dragged to counseling or something- sullen slouch and all. At least I had some pretty sweet gym clothes (thanks, B). Here are the following things I hated about this gym. I'll try not to identify it by name because, chances are, you're a member there, and I wouldn't want them to lose all their business because everyone suddenly realizes why it sucks so much.
1. I went to the receptionist who set up my trial pass, and she was... really overweight (not like plump or curvy or just bigger- like unhealthy). Don't get me wrong- there's nothing wrong with this, but it sort of felt like they were selling a false product. I don't like to see skinny people as chefs at my bakery- it makes me think their food probably sucks. If I were the kind of person who went to a tanning salon, I wouldn't want a pastey person like me working there. When I go to the dentist, I like that Dr. B has healthy looking teeth. You get where I'm going with this. Or, you're probably really pissed off at me. Sorry. I hate myself for this just a little, too.
2. The trainer grabs me for a consultation about my fitness goals and why I want to join a gym and how he can coax me into becoming a member for life or something. I tell him I'm thinking of joining because I'm training for a marathon, and need to prevent injuries. He asks how long the marathon is. I ask him for clarification... does he mean time-wise? Like, how long I think it will take me? He says no... he wants to know how many miles are in my marathon. Face palm. How can you work in a gym and be unfamiliar with what's probably the most well known distance in running? Everyone's token "before 30" or "before 40" item on their bucket list?
3. I went to the locker room where it took me far too long to figure out the lock I just bought and to get comfortable enough stripping down in front of a bunch of strangers. Every gym should have inspirational posters and ads and photos. The women's locker room's idea of inspiration was a perfectly eyelinered model wearing a sports bra and holding a tape measure around her waist smiling, presumably, at the reduction in number of inches. Thanks, gym X, but I can cultivate an eating disorder all on my own. I turn to fitness as ONE thing where I can think of my body as something with a purpose- something strong and capable- as something other than a receptacle for some dude's junk. Believe me, Gym X, we women struggle with self esteem all on our own. Please help us by not promoting skinny/hot as the end goal. Please promote fitness with actual inspiring posters- a woman crossing a finish line at a race, or kickboxing, or actually doing something cool.
4. It always freaks me out to see lots of people in a row on treadmills. Really, the only reason anyone should ever be on a treadmill is a). if they are participating in a scientific research study or b). if they are institutionalized and are trying to prevent muscle atrophy. The reason God/Nature/Insert your personal belief here gave us the ability to run is so we can physically get the hell out of wherever we are. Simple. The act of getting somewhere by running is the most liberating experience I know. Going through the motions and getting nowhere is just like that story of that dude in hell pushing a rock up the hill then going back down and doing it again forever. This whole floor just looked like a bunch of people who are kind of sad with their lives, and going through arbitrary, mechanical movements in this factory to ensure that their husbands/wives don't leave them /they can secure a husband/wife in the near future.
5. The selling was amateur. Everything about my face, body language, and actual language should have told the salesperson at the conclusion of the session that I have a serious fear of commitment. The only way I would EVER agree to a year long membership anywhere is if you could convince me that the entire year would be cheaper than a single month. If that's not the case, I'll take my chances with a month to month and an option of going to Gym Y if it doesn't work out. Or of not going to the gym and going to Baskin Robbins instead. Sales guy (who was, unsurprisingly the same person as anti-marathon training guy) tried to write down figures and circle them and then cross them out, visually representing which fees he would drop in exchange for my signing on for 9 months or a year or whatever. The point was that it was $49 a month, plus $200 in start up fees. But that if I signed on for a year I wouldn't have to pay start up fees. If I made that decision that day. It took him twenty minutes to explain this extremely complicated one-time offer that will certainly never happen again the next time a sort of holiday pops up.
So there you have it. 5 solid reasons this gym sucks. Maybe I'll see you there. Hopefully I'll be nice. Hopefully I'll go back there beyond today. Actually, I'm going kayaking today. So I'll skip. See you tomorrow.
Needless to say, I had a sour attitude going in from the start, which was not right. I should have been pumped. But I felt like an adolescent being dragged to counseling or something- sullen slouch and all. At least I had some pretty sweet gym clothes (thanks, B). Here are the following things I hated about this gym. I'll try not to identify it by name because, chances are, you're a member there, and I wouldn't want them to lose all their business because everyone suddenly realizes why it sucks so much.
1. I went to the receptionist who set up my trial pass, and she was... really overweight (not like plump or curvy or just bigger- like unhealthy). Don't get me wrong- there's nothing wrong with this, but it sort of felt like they were selling a false product. I don't like to see skinny people as chefs at my bakery- it makes me think their food probably sucks. If I were the kind of person who went to a tanning salon, I wouldn't want a pastey person like me working there. When I go to the dentist, I like that Dr. B has healthy looking teeth. You get where I'm going with this. Or, you're probably really pissed off at me. Sorry. I hate myself for this just a little, too.
2. The trainer grabs me for a consultation about my fitness goals and why I want to join a gym and how he can coax me into becoming a member for life or something. I tell him I'm thinking of joining because I'm training for a marathon, and need to prevent injuries. He asks how long the marathon is. I ask him for clarification... does he mean time-wise? Like, how long I think it will take me? He says no... he wants to know how many miles are in my marathon. Face palm. How can you work in a gym and be unfamiliar with what's probably the most well known distance in running? Everyone's token "before 30" or "before 40" item on their bucket list?
3. I went to the locker room where it took me far too long to figure out the lock I just bought and to get comfortable enough stripping down in front of a bunch of strangers. Every gym should have inspirational posters and ads and photos. The women's locker room's idea of inspiration was a perfectly eyelinered model wearing a sports bra and holding a tape measure around her waist smiling, presumably, at the reduction in number of inches. Thanks, gym X, but I can cultivate an eating disorder all on my own. I turn to fitness as ONE thing where I can think of my body as something with a purpose- something strong and capable- as something other than a receptacle for some dude's junk. Believe me, Gym X, we women struggle with self esteem all on our own. Please help us by not promoting skinny/hot as the end goal. Please promote fitness with actual inspiring posters- a woman crossing a finish line at a race, or kickboxing, or actually doing something cool.
4. It always freaks me out to see lots of people in a row on treadmills. Really, the only reason anyone should ever be on a treadmill is a). if they are participating in a scientific research study or b). if they are institutionalized and are trying to prevent muscle atrophy. The reason God/Nature/Insert your personal belief here gave us the ability to run is so we can physically get the hell out of wherever we are. Simple. The act of getting somewhere by running is the most liberating experience I know. Going through the motions and getting nowhere is just like that story of that dude in hell pushing a rock up the hill then going back down and doing it again forever. This whole floor just looked like a bunch of people who are kind of sad with their lives, and going through arbitrary, mechanical movements in this factory to ensure that their husbands/wives don't leave them /they can secure a husband/wife in the near future.
5. The selling was amateur. Everything about my face, body language, and actual language should have told the salesperson at the conclusion of the session that I have a serious fear of commitment. The only way I would EVER agree to a year long membership anywhere is if you could convince me that the entire year would be cheaper than a single month. If that's not the case, I'll take my chances with a month to month and an option of going to Gym Y if it doesn't work out. Or of not going to the gym and going to Baskin Robbins instead. Sales guy (who was, unsurprisingly the same person as anti-marathon training guy) tried to write down figures and circle them and then cross them out, visually representing which fees he would drop in exchange for my signing on for 9 months or a year or whatever. The point was that it was $49 a month, plus $200 in start up fees. But that if I signed on for a year I wouldn't have to pay start up fees. If I made that decision that day. It took him twenty minutes to explain this extremely complicated one-time offer that will certainly never happen again the next time a sort of holiday pops up.
So there you have it. 5 solid reasons this gym sucks. Maybe I'll see you there. Hopefully I'll be nice. Hopefully I'll go back there beyond today. Actually, I'm going kayaking today. So I'll skip. See you tomorrow.
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