When a Troll Is Someone You Know

Recently I was scrolling through my Facebook feed and came across a post from a former high school classmate of mine who'd served in the military. They wrote about President Chump's (oops, I meant President Trump. Or DID I?) ban on transgender people in the military.

HS Classmate wrote a long post about how they felt the ban was fair and the right thing to do, and listed all the reasons that transgender people deserved to be discriminated against. They argued that transgender people belonged in mental institutions, not the military.

I learned from firsthand experience that it's never a good idea to argue with people on the Internet. But this time I couldn't hold my tongue. I wrote on HS Classmate's post that it wasn't fair to discriminate against people, that they weren't mentally ill, and that they deserved to be treated with respect.

I thought of the transgender people I'd met in Chicago, who were funny, kind, talented, and beautiful. I thought of the transgender student in my class this year, who confided in me about how they'd been kicked out of their house by their parents after coming out as transgender. I thought of the transgender people who sang and danced on floats in the Pride Parade in Chicago and how no one there made them feel ashamed for being who they were.

But HS Classmate kept ranting about transgender people. When I shared an article on FB that discredited several of the claims they made about them, they filled up my Facebook page with several condescending retorts and more lengthy rants. I informed HS Classmate that no matter what they said or posted, they would never change my mind.

HS Classmate claimed that they had a right to their beliefs, and several of their FB friends agreed with them and joined in on attacking my comments that defended transgender soldiers and insulted me personally, though they'd never met me. HS Classmate didn't tell them to back off, of course, but seemed to revel in the attention.

I know that everyone has a right to their beliefs, including that person. But I still think it's wrong to use your beliefs as justification to discriminate against other people and deny them rights that they should be (and are) entitled to.

Now that I'm moving to College Town, I'll be living just a few hours away from the small Midwestern hometown where I grew up, where this person still lives. It's possible I'll run into them, and I'm willing to bet that they'll try to get me to talk about this. If they do, I'll say this:

"You have a right to your beliefs, and I have a right to mine. For example, my belief is that you're a Trump-supporting, InfoWars believing, Breitbart reading, conspiracy theory spouting, gay bashing, transgender hating BIGOT who's never been discriminated against a day in your life and is so threatened by people who aren't exactly like you that you feel the need to try to control them and put them down for being who they are. But again, that's just my opinion. So, how've you been since high school?"

One of my other high school classmates asked this person what impact transgender soldiers had had on their service in the military when they were on active duty. But HS Classmate didn't respond, perhaps because they didn't have a valid response to it.

The whole thing made me angry, and I unfollowed (but did not unfriend) this person on Facebook. If and when I do see them again and if they argue with me about this issue again, I might "accidentally" spill a hot beverage on them and/or "accidentally" make them trip and fall. But I digress.

What about you? How do you deal with people whose political views differ from your own?"

How to Be a Good Neighbor

1. Don't play electric guitar at 1:30 in the morning with your loser friends who are also playing electric guitar. This actually happened last night, to the point that I charged out of my apartment in my pajamas and asked them to keep it down. They responded by playing even LOUDER, which made me really wish that I could reenact that shower scene from Psycho.

2. Don't let your friends double-park their cars so that they're blocking your neighbors' cars. When I confronted my neighbors about doing this, they said, "We have guests. You have a driver's license; you figure it out." I responded by getting into my car and threatening to mow down their cars like I was at a monster truck rally, until they finally moved them.


3. Don't leave your trash on other people's patios. My neighbors keep doing this to me, so I picked up their trash and dropped it back on their patios, though I really wanted to use it to spell out the words "MOVE AWAY".


4. Lower your voice when you're outside with your friends. I've woken up at 2 A.M. multiple times, which is why I Googled "how to make people think their homes are haunted".


5. Don't park in your neighbors' spaces. I have told my loser neighbors not once, not twice, but TEN TIMES this past year to stay out of my space. If I let them park there, it's like I'm paying for their parking, which I'm not willing to do.


6. Don't leave your cigarette butts all over the parking lot. I want to use the cigarettes to spell out the words "YOUR HOME PLANET WANTS YOU BACK" in their parking spaces.


Do I sound a little high-strung right now? Maybe it's because I don't like being woken up at 1:30 in the morning by the sound of electric guitar and bad singing.


I think my neighbors' arrogant and inconsiderate behavior is partly due to the fact that the majority of them do not have jobs, so they don't understand that people who do work don't get to sleep until noon and stay up all night. Many of them are from different countries, and their governments and wealthy families provide free tuition and monthly stipends (of thousands of dollars). One of them has wrecked his car not once but twice and is now driving around a brand new $40,000 car (which he promptly dented in the third week). I've even seen maids going into their apartments, because God forbid they should learn to clean up for themselves.


Am I a little jealous? Maybe. I'm working two jobs just so I can pay my rent and debts and buy groceries, while they lounge around all day. They also have no respect for women, which would explain why they've been so nasty and disrespectful towards me. I finally went to my landlord today and told them that I would call the police (I found the local police number and put it on my phone) if those jerks played music that late again. For once, my landlord backed me up and said that I had every right to do so.


The only reason I don't just move is because I'm on a one-year lease; I'm within walking distance of campus; the rent is cheap; the apartment (aside from my loser neighbors) is nicer than any that I've ever lived in; I can't afford another move right now.


What about you? Have you ever had inconsiderate or rude neighbors? How did you deal with them?


By the way, sorry I've been MIA lately. My computer is broken, so I apologize if I can't get back to everyone right away. I have to use the computers at school until mine is fixed.

There's No Place Like Home

Spring break at the school where I teach is still more than a month away, but I've already started planning what to do during my time off. I think I might be able to afford a few days off to travel, and I've been thinking of making a brief trip back to Chicago.

I've grown (somewhat) accustomed to living in Small Town now. There are only a couple coffee shops in town, but I've already picked out my favorite cafe and often go there to write. When I feel particularly claustrophobic, I drive to one of the larger towns or cities to go shopping or try a new restaurant. Despite my usual "leave me alone unless you have food, in which case just give me the food and THEN leave" attitude, I have started socializing more with people my age who live here.

But I'd like to visit Chicago again, even just for a few days, especially because I may never live there again. The job I have in Small Town is not a tenure-track position, which means that eventually I will have to move on to another school, either in this state or maybe in some other town halfway across the country (such is the life of the untenured college teacher).

There are some things about Chicago that I miss a lot, and some things that I'm happy to be free of:

I miss the Chicago-style stuffed pizza, and the way that Chicagoans often insisted that their favorite pizza place was the best and would even get into arguments with each other about it.

I don't miss the prices at many Chicago restaurants, which apparently have the motto, "Why make things affordable when we can overcharge you weaklings who cannot resist our food? HAHAHAHAHA!"

I miss walking around Greektown, where old men sat on chairs outside the restaurants and called out to each other in Greek. I also miss the fact that I could walk down almost any street in Chicago and hear at least four or five different languages being spoken.

I don't miss random creeps who called out to me when I was walking down almost any street in Chicago, because apparently they go by the following motto: If I yell out as many offensive things as possible and/or try to grope women that I think are attractive, surely ONE of them will want to hook up with me, and I have NO IDEA why this hasn't worked yet.

I miss the neighborhood festivals, like the Chinese New Year's festival in Chinatown, where I used to watch the dragon dancers, the Taste of Chicago in Grant Park, where I ate toasted ravioli and other delicious food from local restaurants, or Northalsted Market Days in Boystown, where I looked wistfully at all the good-looking, muscular guys dancing in colorful briefs and think, "And they're all gay, darn it!"

I don't miss the crowds at those festivals (or any popular event or place in the city), where there was sometimes the risk that I might get robbed/knocked down/thrown up on (and yes, all three things happened to me at some point or other during some of these festivals).

I miss riding the CTA trains and buses, because I dislike driving in Small Town; I dislike parking, and I dislike all the drivers who apparently don't know how to drive or park.

I don't miss the weird, annoying, or scary people on the CTA trains and buses, like the guy who took off his pants just because I glanced in his direction, or the people who would delay the trains by holding the doors open for their friends, or the people whose solution to crowded trains and buses would be to make them even MORE crowded by squeezing themselves onboard.

I miss riding rented bikes by the lake, window shopping on Michigan Avenue, and the free admissions' days at the museums.

I don't miss the aggressive bicyclists by the lake, the protestors who yelled at anyone who didn't protest with them on Michigan Avenue (and there are a LOT of them in Chicago right now), and the mob of tourists at the museums who walked so slowly (because they were appreciating the scenery) that I always had to mutter to myself, "Don't yell at the tourists don't yell at the tourists don't -"

On the other hand, part of me is thinking that maybe I should just save my money and not go to Chicago at all, or maybe I should go somewhere else for my spring break (I am considering a road trip to explore more of the surrounding area this summer).

What about you? What do you like best/least about your hometown, or what would you miss most about it?

Country Mouse and City Mouse

I am still applying for full-time teaching jobs with no luck; I've even contemplated getting my old job back at Expensive Clothing Store, where I would get paid slightly more than the minimum wage to say, "Thank you! Come again!" when I really want to say, "I bet when you sold your soul, Satan flinched and offered a refund."

One of the benefits to being single is that I can apply for jobs pretty much anywhere, since I don't have to worry about how a move to a different city or state would affect my spouse or kids. I'd like to stay in Chicago, but I'd also like to wake up looking like Sofia Vergara tomorrow. Unfortunately, the chances of either situation happening are highly unlikely. The former is especially difficult to achieve, due to the draconian budget cuts that the governor is implementing, which have severely and negatively affected the schools in Illinois.

I've applied for jobs all over the country, everywhere from New York City to tiny towns in West Virginia with only a thousand local residents. I'd prefer to live in a big city, rather than a small town that is similar to the small town that I spent eighteen years wanting to escape from. But most colleges are in smaller or medium-sized towns.

Small town life isn't all bad. I do miss the peace and quiet, and how, when I was a child, I used to lie on the grass next to my dog and hear nothing but birds chirping and my dog barking at passers-by. In the city, I lie on my bed and hear sirens blaring, horns honking, and my neighbors yelling, "Chug! Chug! Chug!" as they gulp down their umpteenth beer.

I don't miss the fact that in a small town, everyone not only knew each other, they knew everyone else's business. So if you made any big or small decision in that town, everyone would know within days (or hours), and they'd be sure to throw in their two cents. I like the anonymity of Chicago, where I can walk down the street and not run into an old acquaintance who wants to rehash one of the many times I publicly embarrassed myself at school.

I miss the sight of farmland and wide open spaces, unlike Chicago, where everyone is always bumping into each other or pushing each other to make space for themselves. I remember crossing the street in my hometown and waving to drivers I recognized, whereas in Chicago drivers are much more likely to honk and scream at me for not moving fast enough. I respond by screaming, "I'll move faster...in HELL!"

I don't miss the fact that in my hometown, it seemed like everyone was expected to be the same. If you were even a little bit different, you were a freak, and everyone treated you like a freak. And that was my life for eighteen years, because I was different. I'm not saying that all small towns are like that, because they're not; I'm sure that other towns are more accepting. But one thing I like about Chicago is that there are a lot of people who are much "freakier" than I am, and here, they're viewed as "cool". I don't have to hide who I am here, and I've always felt more comfortable here than I ever did in my hometown.

It makes me sad when I think about leaving Chicago and all the things I'll miss (which is another post in itself). But I always knew that my time here came with an expiration date. The thing about the academic job market is that you can't afford to be choosy. You have to go where the work is. So if I end up in a town even smaller than the one I grew up in, so be it, as long as I get to teach at a good school. But as my rejection letters pile up, I am starting to lose hope that I'll find anything.

Also, I really don't want to go back to working in retail, because I think that a few days at my old store just might end with several customers running out of the store, shrieking, while I chase after them with a mannequin.

What about you? Do you prefer city life or life in a small town?

Cell Phone Addicts

Do you remember when cell phones were these huge devices that only made phone calls and were meant to just be used for emergencies? Do you remember when cell phones were considered luxuries and only rich people who had names like Thaddeus Waltham Jameson III, Esq. owned them? Can we go back to those days please?

Once I went to a movie where some teenage girl answered her cell phone during the movie. She deliberately put the call on speaker phone, and when the person who called her asked, "So what are you doing right now?" she answered, "Nothing much," and proceeded to talk loudly until everyone in the audience groaned collectively and acted like they were going to unleash their wrath and their popcorn upon her head. She finally walked out of the theater, continuing to chat with her friend on the phone.

When I study in coffee shops, I often notice people sitting nearby, who are on dates or hanging out with their friends. I can't help wondering if those people would be happier sitting at home alone with their true loves, specifically their cell phones, because they usually spend 95% of the time texting/Tweeting/taking selfies than actually talking to the people in front of them. I always think that if I were to grab the food they're eating and then lie across their table eating the food while talking about how lame it is to be obsessed with electronic devices, they wouldn't even look up from their phones.

I have a particular acquaintance who will text me and then disappear for hours during the middle of our conversation. Then he will come back hours later and start texting me again, without apology or explanation for the long absence. This person does this every time we text each other. The last time he did it, I asked him why he stopped texting for so long. But I made the mistake of texting my question to him, and he did not respond until A DAY LATER.

When this person does that, it makes me think that maybe he's multi-tasking or texting other friends while texting me. But the fact that I always have to wait hours for a response makes me feel like my conversation (and my feelings) do not matter at all.

When I was doing the online dating thing, guys rarely called. They preferred texting, because apparently it was less nerve-wracking for them. I don't expect long love letters like women in the past received from their suitors, but it would be nice to get something more than a text that says, "Hey what's up?" or a text that has nothing but winking emojis in it. (It's like, really? I'm 34, not 14.) I once dated a guy who spent more time texting (I suspected he was texting other women during our date) than he did actually looking at me. It was like, "Perhaps you should order a drink for your cell phone, too?"

I admit that I freaked out when my cell phone was stolen recently. Even though I don't know how to use more than half the apps on it, I do use it for e-mail, phone calls, Twitter, and the Internet. Still, if I'm with friends, I always focus on THEM, not my phone. I miss the days when I could walk around outside, go to a cafe, or ride the bus without looking around to see almost everyone glued to their phones. I don't think it's just about the desire to be constantly connected anymore. I think it's about the desire to be constantly entertained. But when people focus so much on their devices, they end up missing out on the real world around them, and I think that's wrong and kind of sad.

What about you? What are some of your pet peeves regarding your cell phones and the people who are addicted to them?

I Think Karma Is Broken

Recently, I was walking past a doctor's office when I found a debit card on the ground. For a moment, visions of paid bills and Prada bags danced through my head. But I didn't use the card, of course. I made sure that the bank listed on the card was alerted that the card had been found. After all, if I had tried to use the card, it could have gotten traced back to me. Then there would have been visions of me in a prison jumpsuit dancing through my head, only they wouldn't just be visions; they'd be reality.

Once I found a Kindle. This was before I had the money to buy my own e-reader. I could have kept it, and it wouldn't necessarily have gotten traced back to me. But the owner of the Kindle had put his name and e-mail address on the back, probably so that if he ever lost it, the e-reader could be returned to him. So I contacted him, and he was grateful to get it back. And I felt good that I had done the right thing.

The other day I was studying in a coffee shop, and I accidentally left my cell phone on the sink in the bathroom. When I realized my mistake and went back to get it less than half an hour later, my phone was gone. The baristas said no one turned it in.

I was at the coffee shop that day because I had a coupon for a free cup of coffee. Ironically, that free cup ended up costing me more than a hundred dollars, because I had to pay for a replacement phone (fortunately, I had insurance on my old phone, so I didn't have to pay full price), a memory card, and a new case. I spent more than an hour at the phone store, learning about how to remotely wipe the data from my old phone so the thief couldn't access it, lock my new phone, and back up the data on my new phone. I foolishly did not back up most of the data on my old one, so I lost all the pictures I'd taken, including the ones from my trip to New York.)

I also had to keep running down to the mailboxes of my building to check for the delivery of my new phone, because my loser neighbors have a bad habit of not only stealing my magazines (I actually had to cancel all my subscriptions) but also my packages. I once put up a note asking for the return of my mail, and the losers put up their own note mocking me for their theft and saying they would do it again if they found more of my mail (the postal workers keep putting the wrong mail in the mailboxes. I tried to file more than one complaint about it, and the post office retaliated by giving my number to one of those workers, who called me to scream at me and blame ME for getting the wrong mail, as if it was my fault she kept doing a bad job). Fortunately, I got to my new phone before those leeches did, so they couldn't steal it.

The theft of my cell phone really pissed me off. I always try to do the right thing (though admittedly I don't always succeed). I don't keep things that don't belong to me. The one exception is when I find coins on the ground, because who's going to run back and search for a quarter or a couple of pennies, right?

But unfortunately, some people aren't honest. Some people are selfish thieves and just immoral. This isn't the first time I've gotten robbed, because this is Chicago, after all. I've gotten mugged and pickpocketed on more than one occasion, which is why I never carry a lot of cash or major credit cards with me. Once I accidentally left my coin purse in a bathroom at one of the schools where I teach. I went back less than five minutes later, to find the purse still there but all the coins missing. And I don't think it's a coincidence that not long after some of my mail went missing, someone tried to open up a bunch of credit cards with my information; fortunately, my credit card company stopped them and alerted me to what was going on.

It's times like those that make me wonder why I even bother trying to be considerate and honest. I know it's the right thing to do, but it doesn't always pay off. Even when I try to help people, it occasionally ends up backfiring.

For example, once I saw an old woman struggling with a shopping bag as she went down the stairs of an El station. The bag split open, and all the things inside fell out. Other people walked by, some of them trampling over her things without a second glance. I said, "Here, let me help you with that," and I tried to pick up what she had dropped. She screamed at me to keep my hands off her stuff and accused me of trying to steal it. I quickly backed away and let the old witch take care of it herself.

In spite of creeps like that, I will continue to try to do the right thing. If I find something valuable again, I won't keep it; I'll make sure it gets returned. I have enough Catholic guilt in me to motivate me, after all. But it still discourages me and makes me mad that no matter how nice I try to be to people, I still end up getting screwed again and again. It bothers me that some of the worst people in the world end up rich, successful, and getting everything else that they want, like karma isn't real after all. It's not like I help people with the expectation of being repaid every time, but it would be nice if people would show me the same consideration and at the very least return my possessions. But maybe that's expecting too much.

What about you? Have you ever gotten robbed? Have you ever tried to help someone, only for your efforts to end up backfiring? How do you deal with people like that?

Hello Is Not an Invitation

Almost every time I talk to my mother on the phone, she wants to know, "Do you have a boyfriend yet?" When I tell her no, she often reminds me that I am getting older; I am an old maid; her friends' daughters (many of whom are younger than me) are now married with children.

I never told her about He-Who-I-Shall-Not-Name-Without-Spitting-on-The-Ground-and-Cursing. I haven't told her about most of the other guys I've dated, who are the reasons that chastity belts should make a comeback.

Recently, there was a controversy over a video that was made of a woman walking around and that featured all the men calling out to her. A lot of people criticized the video, because some of the men were "only" saying hello and therefore the woman should feel flattered, not upset. In all the years I've lived in Chicago, guys have tried to come on to me in public on a regular basis. It doesn't make me feel flattered, attractive or special. It makes me feel wary, annoyed, and scared.

Last week, I was walking home from the train station when I saw a guy walking towards me. I tried to step out of his way, but he blocked my path and jumped at me, arms outstretched, as he yelled something nonsensical at me. I stepped away again and he kept lunging at me, before walking off and saying, "Dumb bitch." I yelled after him something that rhymes with "Buck shoe." Maybe I shouldn't have, but I was angry that he thought it was okay to attack a stranger who hadn't even done anything to him.

One day I was on my way to a bookstore and a guy said, "Hello." I made the mistake of saying hello back, and he took that as an invitation to follow me down the street. When I ignored him, he started screaming at me and calling me a racist. (FYI: I am NOT a racist. I ignored him not because his ethnicity was different but because he was way too aggressive, which turned me off.)

That's happened to me before. When I reject or ignore creeps like that, they accuse me of being a racist, an idiot, a lesbian, a bitch, etc. It infuriates me that jerks think it's okay to harass women and then insult them when the women try to walk away. How would they feel if women did that to them? These losers just don't understand how scary and intimidating it can be when you're a woman walking alone, no matter what time of day it is, when you are well aware of what can happen (especially in a city like Chicago, which unfortunately is well-known for its violence).

I've seen women do it too, though to a lesser extent. Once I saw a woman trying to strike up a conversation with a guy who was at least fifteen years younger than her. He was polite but clearly not interested, and she clearly didn't get it. He finally told her that he just wanted to be left alone, and she walked away.

Sometimes, the guys aren't creepy so much as just clueless. I was studying in a coffee shop and one of the old men who are omnipresent in coffee shops (they're usually playing chess, reading the paper, or chatting with baristas) struck up a conversation with me. He invited me to have dinner with him sometime, and I politely declined, though I wanted to say, "If you weren't old enough to be my grandfather, I might say yes. But you are, so NO!"

I don't tell my parents about this. They'd just see it as more evidence of why I need to leave Chicago, because they want me to live in the same city as them, where they can control where I live, where I work, and even what kinds of groceries I should buy. I'd rather stay in a city that I chose, even if it means dealing with creeps on a regular basis.

I'm not saying it's never okay for men to approach women. It's just that there's a time and a place for everything. And if a woman makes it clear that she's not interested, then the guy should BACK OFF and not insult her.

The last guy I liked, who liked me back, wasn't someone I met online. He was someone who struck up a conversation with me one day, and we just kept talking. Unlike all those other guys I mentioned, he wasn't violent, insulting, creepy, or old enough to be my father (or grandfather). He seemed like a genuinely nice guy. He didn't show his true colors until much later. 

What about you? Do you ever get harassed or approached by guys who think that hello or even just eye contact is an invitation? How do you deal with it?

When I Have Writer's Block

1. I think of whatever's annoying me at the moment (as I stated on Twitter, my brain is basically one eternal Seinfeld marathon, because I obsess over everything), and then I write about it. For example, I've filled up more than one page about the people who blast music and videos from their cell phones in cafes, so that it gets to the point that I want to hurl headphones at them.

2. I take advantage of the free-admission days at museums like the Art Institute, where I look at my favorite pieces of art, like the Miniature Rooms and the Impressionists' paintings. I sit on a bench and stare up at the beautiful art, thinking about the artists at work in their studios and how they didn't give up until they created something beautiful. A trip to the museum is enough to make me take out my journal and start writing, so that I can keep writing until I write something that is (hopefully) beautiful.

3. I eavesdrop on people's conversations at cafes, on the subway, at bus stops, in the grocery store, or in the laundry room, and then I write down what they say so that I can practice writing dialogue (and maybe even create interesting characters partly based on the people I listen to). For example, my journal is filled with lines I've overheard, like, "I can't believe he liked more of her selfies than mine. I thought it meant something when he followed me on Instagram," or "No, you can't sit there. My friend is sitting there, and he has every right to keep sitting there. It doesn't MATTER if he finished drinking his coffee an hour ago." and "I can't believe I had to sit through that whole movie. There were hardly any scenes with boobs in them." (I swear I'm not making any of these lines up. Chicagoans are weird.)

4. I reread my favorite books, like A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway or Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri. Reading a good book is like one of those rare days in Chicago where the weather is perfect and everyone stays outside to soak up every minute of it, because they know that it will be freezing cold or windy by the next day. Truly good books that make you think and feel things that no post on Twitter, Instagram, or Facebook will EVER make you feel in the same way motivate me to get back to work on my own stories.

5. I buy a cheap ticket to a play at one of the tiny theaters in Chicago, where more often than not the actors are ten times more talented than many of the A-list celebrities starring on the big screen. Sometimes I'll see a play that I know little about and ends up making me angry, like the one that spewed a bunch of distorted, bigoted crap about Catholics and made me want to stand up in the audience and shriek, "You're all going to HELL, you HEATHENS!" (I didn't, though I definitely felt tempted.) Sometimes I'll watch a play that is almost as good as one of my favorite books or paintings, so that it makes me marvel at how people utilize the talents that they were given and created something original and amazing. Either way, after immersing myself in the playwrights' world for a couple hours, it makes me want to get back to my own world that I created in my writing.

What about you? What kinds of things do you do when you have writer's block? Is there anything about your hometown in particular that helps you deal with writer's block?

P.S. Have a safe and happy New Year!

When It's Hard to Be Polite

Today I went to a cafe to write. I like writing in cafes, partly because of the good food and coffee, and partly because I like the atmosphere. It's also because if I have to listen to my wannabe musician neighbor play the same chord for hours at a time, I just might plaster his door with One Direction posters for all our other neighbors to see.

While I was writing, I noticed an old man with a cane hovering over my table. It made me uncomfortable, but I kept writing. Then a barista loudly asked if anyone would be willing to share or give up their table for the old man. Two men sitting nearby offered to share their table; they were very friendly and nice about it. But the old man just stood there; he was adamant about getting his own table. The barista kept loudly asking for someone to give up their table again and again. Finally I reluctantly said that he could have my table.

I told the barista and the manager that I had a right to sit there and I didn't appreciate being pressured to give up my table. Don't get me wrong; I know he couldn't sit at one of the high stools near the window. When I'm on the bus or train, I always give up my seat to elderly passengers. I try to help older people in other ways. Once I helped an old woman carry her groceries in the pouring rain. There's another elderly homeless woman who hangs out at a cafe near my apartment, so sometimes I put a few bucks on a gift card and give it to her so that she can buy food and coffee.

So it's not like I'm completely indifferent to the elderly. But I think if I buy something at a cafe, I have the right to sit down. I would never do what that old man did; that is, I would never stand over someone's table and insist that someone else give up their seat. In fact, I went to that cafe because the first one I went to was too crowded.

The manager and barista defended the customer, saying he was a regular. I'm a cafe regular too; I drink so much coffee that sometimes I start running around like Speedy Gonzalez. I don't think that regulars have the right to demand their own tables; I never do that at the other cafes I frequent. The whole situation made me angry.

I try to be nice to people, whether it's opening a door for someone with their hands full or helping someone in a wheelchair cross the street. I don't expect people to go out of their way for me, but it bothers me when people are rude, like the driver who screamed at me when I crossed the street (the sign said walk, so I thought it was okay) and then drove up beside me and kept screaming. It bothered me when some kid was running down the sidewalk so fast that he knocked me into the street, in the face of oncoming traffic. Instead of apologizing or helping me get back up, he and his friends pointed and laughed at me lying there in the street.

It bothers me when jerks shove me out of the way to get on the bus first, or when my neighbor refuses to be quiet at 3 A.M. (I asked) and then acts like I'm the one with the problem because apparently he's a vampire who doesn't sleep at night.

I try not to let it bother me, but it's hard to be polite when I encounter rudeness almost every day. I know that I should be mature and grownup, even when others are not. But sometimes I want to respond to their rudeness by giving them a taste of their own medicine. I don't, though.

What about you? How do you deal with it when people are rude to you?

I Like Twitter, But...

1. I don't like the jerks who use offensive, derogatory terms (like the C-word) to refer to women and think that they're funny. Reading their Tweets makes me wish I could tell a professional wrestler that those losers flirted with his girlfriend.

2. I don't like the people who follow and then immediately unfollow when I don't follow back or retweet them. That tells me that they're not interested in reading my Tweets; they just want more followers. I'd like more followers too, but for me, Twitter is about writing and reading interesting Tweets.

3. I don't like the photos that make me think that people are advertising some kind of semi-nudist colony. The phrase "less is more" does not apply to clothing, at least not in my opinion. I don't think the fact that I don't want to see people pose with hardly any clothes on makes me a prude, unless the person posing is Channing Tatum.

4. I don't like the Tweets that have nothing but links in them; occasionally I'll include a link, but not in every single Tweet. Links always make me wary. I'm afraid they'll come with a virus or somehow find a way to access my webcam and then will be able to tape videos of me throwing M&Ms at my TV every time the Duggars or the Sister Wives come on (am I the only one who finds them really annoying and conceited?).

5. I don't like it when some people post thirty retweets in a row (I'm not exaggerating). I retweet a lot of people, but I still include my own Tweets. Like I said, part of the point of Twitter is writing interesting Tweets.

6. I don't like reading the same inspirational quotes again and again, though I will admit to a few "reruns" of my own. If those people can't figure out what to Tweet, they should just take a break from Tweeting; that's what I do.

7. I followed several of those Twitter feeds that have inspirational quotes at first, but sometimes it's hard to be inspired by them after a day that included getting screamed at by drivers who get mad because their all-important texting sessions were interrupted by pedestrians and having my dissertation criticized (again!) by my advisor.

I really do like Twitter, and I'd like to keep Tweeting for now. But sometimes it does get on my nerves, which is when I know it's time to log off.

What about you? Is there anything that bugs you about Twitter, Facebook, or any of the other social networking sites?

Exercise Fanatics, Nacho Lovers, and Cubs Fans

(Side note: I wrote this post a couple days ago. When I read the articles about what happened at the Boston Marathon, I suddenly viewed the things that happened in this post from an entirely different perspective. I'm so sorry about what happened at the marathon, and I feel sad and scared for all the people who have been affected by it. I hope they find whoever did it so that it never happens again.)

Earlier this week I was using one of the weight-lifting machines at the gym, when I was suddenly confronted by a Possessive Exercise Fanatic. This is the kind of person who will spend a long time on each machine because he or she does several sets on it, but the Possessive Exercise Fanatic will also alternate by doing sets on other machines. The PEF thinks that because he or she hasn't completed all of his or her sets, that means the PEF is entitled to lay claim on all the machines he or she wants to use, even if the PEF isn't actually using them at that moment.

I kind of think of the PEFs as those little kids I encountered when I was younger, who would say stuff like, "These are all MY toys, MINE! You can't play with them!" Only the PEF's version is "These are all my exercise machines, MINE, and you can't use any of them until I'm done with them, because only I shall have the muscular biceps/six-pack abs/perfect calves, weakling! Hahahahaha!"

I had seen this particular Possessive Exercise Fanatic do several sets in a row on one of the machines, but then he moved on to another machine for several minutes. I thought that meant it was okay for me to use the machine that he had left. But I had barely done one set before he was tapping his foot in front of me and saying that he was still using it.

I insisted on finishing my set rather than get up and leave right away like he wanted, though what I wanted to say was, "Last time I checked, we both pay the same membership fees, so I have just as much right to use this machine as you do. So shall I drop a dumbbell on your foot now, or later? Because it will happen NOW if you keep hogging all the machines. And stop glaring at me like that, because otherwise I'm going to introduce my sneaker to your face."

When I was riding the train, I saw a guy eat nachos covered with jalapenos, sour cream, salsa, and beef out of a fast food container. Most people (including me) tend not to eat on the train, partly because of the fear that someone might sneeze on our food. But that didn't stop this guy. He only finished eating about half of the nachos. Before he left the train, he shoved the open container under his seat, so that the rest of us could admire his half-eaten meal and smell it for the rest of the ride. I wanted to chase after him and say, "Hey! You forgot something!" Then I'd yell, "Catch!" before flinging the nachos at him.

Inconsiderate, self-centered people like the Nacho Lover and the Possessive Exercise Fanatic drive me nuts. In fact, if people like them didn't exist, this blog would be at least two hundred posts shorter. I think that one reason they bother me so much is that I was taught to be considerate of other people. The nuns and priests at the Catholic school I went to when I was younger told us that we should do at least one good deed a day, if not more, and that included being considerate of other people. I think it's also partly due to the fact that I am a writer; writers are supposed to develop a stronger awareness of their surroundings, and that includes being observant of other people and their needs. (On the other hand, I know that there are plenty of writers out there who are observant but also very rude.)

So I try to be considerate of other people, and that includes cleaning up after myself, not hogging anything, and not blasting my music or television at all hours.  I also try to help other people in small ways, at least once a day, whether it's leaving a tip for the baristas at the cafes that I write in, holding a door open for someone, buying a sandwich for a homeless person, or helping a person in a wheelchair cross the street. In other words, I try to remember what I was taught, which was that I should treat other people the way I would want to be treated.

That's why it's still disheartening when I come across supposedly mature adults who show no consideration for other people and focus solely on their own concerns, even if it hurts or annoys someone else. I'm supposed to "turn the other cheek", but what I really want to do is introduce my sneaker to their faces. But I'm not a violent person, even though sometimes I fantasize about what it would be like if I was the female version of Jackie Chan or James Bond. Then NO ONE would dare mess with me.

I often write down what I'd like to say to those people, because I know if I said it out loud it would probably start a fight. I know I shouldn't let their rude, thoughtless behavior bother me, but it does.

But fortunately, not all people are like that. On the day of the first Cubs game of the season, there were several people wearing baseball caps, jackets, and shirts with the Cubs logo on them. When I saw them on the train, I immediately thought, Oh, MAN. Now the train is going to be extra crowded, and I'm going to have to listen to them say stuff like, "Do you think if I throw up later, it'll come out blue because I'm a Cubs fan?"  I also always end up trapped on a train full of Cubs fans when it's ninety degrees outside and the A/C isn't working. (Fortunately, it was cold that day.)

The train was crowded, but when I stood up at my stop to leave, I heard several of the Cubs fans whisper to each other, "Step out of the way. She's trying to get off the train." Unlike many locals I've seen who only inch out of the way or don't move at all when other people try to get off the train, or who push and shove their way onto the train before the people in the train have a chance to get off, these people actually made a narrow path for me to get through. Their courtesy and consideration for me, a perfect stranger, made me think that chivalry really isn't dead after all. (It also made me think that maybe they were tourists who hadn't adopted the "me first" mentality that so many Chicago commuters have.)

So on the rare occasion when someone is considerate towards me or when I see someone doing a good deed for someone else, it always makes my day. That incident on the train almost made up for the time that I was in Wrigleyville after a game and saw Cubs fans peeing outside of apartment buildings.

What about you? What is an example of rude or inconsiderate behavior that bugs you, and how do you deal with it?

P.S. Is it true that there won't be a Google Reader anymore starting in July? How are we supposed to know when blogs are updated without it?

Stuff My Neighbors Say

Neighbor #1: Don't worry, nobody's even listening to us right now.
Me: Nobody wants to listen to you right now, but that doesn't mean we can't HEAR you. And by the way? It's really not necessary to congratulate yourself every time.

Neighbor #2: And I will always love youuuu..... (This neighbor likes to sing at the top of her lungs, because she thinks she's as good as Whitney Houston was.)
Me: You know what you should take? Voice lessons. Then the teacher will tell you that you should learn how to be a mime instead.

Neighbor #3: Can you believe it's already 2:37 in the morning? I can't believe we're still awake right now!
Me: I can't believe I'm still awake either. Do you know what happens when I am sleep-deprived? Why don't you come over and I'll show you. 

Neighbor #4: Yeah! We're number one! We won the game! WOOOO!!
Me: You're number one on my list of people who I'm going to photograph and whose pictures I will post online under the heading, "When Bad Neighbors Happen to Good People."

Neighbor #5: Just leave it. Someone else will take care of it.
Me: The next time I break a jar of spaghetti sauce, I'm not going to leave the mess all over the hallway like you did. I'm going to take the sauce and smear it all over your door with a note that says, "You don't have a maid. Clean up after yourself."

Neighbor #6: I just LOVE this song! Turn it up!
Me: I like that song too. At least, I liked it the first three times you played it. Twenty-five times later, I don't really like it anymore. Thank you for that. 

Neighbor #7: I can't believe you made out with him! I wanted to make out with him!
Me: How about this? The next time you two go to a bar and encounter an anonymous guy who's remotely attractive, you get to call dibs!

The walls in my building are extremely thin. Any time one of my neighbors sneezes, answers the phone, or fights with their boyfriend or girlfriend, I can hear it. My apartment window looks out over the parking lot; it also faces several other apartments, which is why I have to keep my blinds closed all the time. But even if I can't see my neighbors, I can still hear them.

It's one thing when they have their loud parties or music marathons on the weekends. I try not to start throwing things when the guy living in the apartment above me invites all his friends over and they start cheering every time one of the players in the games that they're watching does something spectacular, like move. But when it's a weeknight and I have to wake up at 5:30 A.M. to get ready to teach my morning classes?  That's something else altogether. I don't blast my Nothing But Taylor Swift playlist at 5:30 in the morning, because I know that everyone's sleeping. So I'd appreciate it if people would show me the same consideration at 1:30 A.M. I'd also appreciate it if I didn't have to listen to their nonstop noise EVERY. SINGLE. NIGHT.

I'd expect this kind of behavior if my neighbors were college students. But most of them are in their twenties and thirties. At some point, I would have thought they'd have grown up. But apparently, they haven't. Maybe I'm jealous because they have a lot more free time than I do, and they obviously don't have to work as much (or at all) as I do.

Maybe it's true that you can take the girl out of the small town, but you can't take the small town out of the girl. I was accustomed to peace and quiet when I was growing up, so it was a shock to come here to Chicago, where it's rarely peaceful or quiet. 

Maybe I'm suspicious because a lot of them never seem to sleep at night, which makes me wonder if they're all just a bunch of drunk vampires who like to party all the time.

Maybe I'm just tired because my neighbors are why I haven't been sleeping well lately, and I think they're also why my hair is turning white again.

Or maybe I'm just completely fed up by their selfish, inconsiderate behavior. I've had to live with jerks like them for years, and I hate it.

I am truly grateful for the fact that I have a roof over my head, and I am grateful that I earn money to pay my own rent. But I dream of the day that I'll be able to buy my own house someday, not an apartment or a condo, but a house where I don't have to share space with anyone I don't like. Until then, I'm seriously thinking of turning up my pop music playlists at 5:30 in the morning.


What about you? Do you have rude neighbors? How do you deal with people like them?

Picking Fights with Trolls

Last year, I received a couple of really long, nasty, angry rants from someone who'd read one of my posts about online dating. I think it was from the same person, even though one of the comments was left by an "anonymous" commenter and the other one left his name (though his profile didn't include any links to any blogs).

The commenter was very hostile towards me and towards all women, making comments about how unfair it was that women were in control of the dating scene. He whined about the fact that he'd messaged several women on online dating sites but most of them hadn't responded. He also said that my standards were too high and that I should be more "forgiving" of the flaws that I saw in guys' profiles. He said that the fact that I wasn't willing to overlook those flaws was why I was still single. According to this jerk, I was one of those superficial, self-centered, mean girls who never gave guys a chance.

What bothered me most weren't his insults towards me. It was that he blamed women for the fact that he was single. Yes, there are women on online dating sites who never try to make the first move; they just sit back and wait for the guys to message them first. There are women who judge guys solely by their pictures or who will dismiss guys because they don't make enough money. But I am NOT like that, and for him to claim that I was showed how much of a hypocrite he was; he was judging me in exactly the same way that he accused me of judging other guys. Not to mention there are plenty of superficial guys as well.

I thought about responding to this jerk, who was obviously very unhappy about the fact that he was single and took out his anger on me. It's not just guys who get rejected, so it bugged me that this creep was acting as if only guys were "victims".

I follow several blogs about online dating and the single life, and there's often at least one commenter like that guy who leaves nasty comments on every post. One blogger I followed had to deal with a particularly hostile troll (who was female). This troll left at least six or seven comments on every single post that the blogger wrote, criticizing her for the way that she lived. I think it's one thing to express your opinion, but it's another thing altogether to harass someone and try to force them to accept your perspective. This blogger eventually shut down her blog, and I think it was largely because of that troll's despicable behavior.

There are trolls everywhere. They show up in the comments section of online news articles and Youtube videos. They fall into several categories.

1. The Never Gets Laid Troll: This type of person makes sexist comments or crude jokes about men or women (usually celebrities), because apparently this troll thinks that derogatory jokes are attractive.

2. The Grammar Police Troll: There's always at least one person who's complaining about spelling/grammatical errors. What's ironic is that this person often has grammatical errors in his/her own comments.

3. The Anti-Politicians Troll: I read a lot of online news articles about crime, and on almost every post there's always at least one person who will be quick to blame the president or some other politician for whatever bad thing happened in the article.

4. The Racist Troll: This type of troll offends me to no end. It's people like this one that make me think that there should be limits on freedom of speech.

5. The Wanna Fight Troll: This type of troll insults all the other commenters, so that you'll often see random commenters fighting with each other. It'd be funny if it also weren't kind of sad.

6. The I Beg to Differ Troll: No matter what you write, this person will disagree with you and point out all the reasons that you're wrong. (I also think of this kind of troll as the Know-it-All Troll, or the I-Think-I'm-Smarter-than-Everyone-and-That's-Why-I-Have-No-Friends Troll.)

7. The Spammer Troll: These people leave comments that have nothing to do with the article or post and everything to do with promoting their scams. Spammers often leave comments with links to their "businesses" or websites on my posts, which makes me mad. It's one thing if advertisers e-mail me to ask if I'd be willing to promote their products. But these trolls don't even ask my permission to leave links on my blog. I always delete them.

8. The Anonymous Troll: Not all anonymous commenters are trolls, and not all of them are mean. But I've found that a lot of them do leave nasty comments, because they would never have the courage to say any of those things in real life. That's why I removed the Anonymous option in my comments section.

People often say: don't feed the troll. And I think they're right. I realized that responding to this loser was probably what he was looking for, because he probably wanted me to defend myself so that he could keep attacking me. But I was still tempted to fight back and stand up for myself.

I chose not to respond to his comments, which probably reinforced his belief that all women ignored him and it wasn't his fault at all. Even so, just thinking about mean people like that makes me angry. I have to deal with enough jerks like that in real life; I don't want to have to deal with them online, too.

I don't understand why people become trolls anyway. I think they must be very lonely, angry, bitter people, and they choose to deal with it by attacking strangers online.

Fortunately, most of the other bloggers I've come across are very kind, friendly, and encouraging. The connections I've made through blogging are why I continue to blog.

What about you? What do you think of trolls? Have you ever encountered any on your blog, or have you ever seen any mean comments left on other blogs? How do you think they should be dealt with?

What I Wish I Could Say to the People at My Gym

Those sinks in the bathroom aren't decorations. They're for washing your hands.

When you grunt really loudly like that, is it because you're in pain from lifting those heavy weights, or is it because you want everyone to know that you're lifting those heavy weights?

Stop hogging that machine. Just because it has a good view of the girls on the exercise balls, that doesn't give you the right to monopolize the machine when other people like me are waiting to use it. Besides, none of those girls have even looked at you, and I need to work on my glutes.

Leaving your towel draped over the machine doesn't mean you own it, especially because you're using the machine right next to it. If you keep hogging both machines like that, I'm going to grab your towel, swing it around my head like a lasso, and bellow, "There's only room for ONE of us in this gym..."

Do you wonder why there's nobody on the machines on either side of you, even though the gym is really crowded today? It's because it's time for you to take a shower.

The janitors work really hard. Don't make their jobs harder by leaving your towels all over the floor of the locker room. Seeing as how you kept bending over to stretch in front of the guys lifting weights, that means you're perfectly capable of bending over to pick up your own towels. And also? The same goes for leaving your underwear all over the place. I really don't need to know what kind of thong you wear.

Yes, the aerobics classes really are crowded, and you have to show up early if you want to get a good spot. However, that doesn't give you the right to refuse to wait for the previous class to leave, push people out of the way, make rude comments about the people who dare to get in the room before you, and rush to the front of the room just so you can show off how good of a dancer you are and flirt with the male instructor. Besides, didn't you see him flirting with that guy right before class started? 

Just because I left the room for a few seconds to go to the water fountain, that doesn't mean you can steal my spot in the dance class. So why don't you go shake your booty back to where you were before?

You know how it's really annoying when people insist on squeezing onto the train even though it's clear that it's already too crowded? It's also really annoying when people insist on crowding into the dance class, even though we might as well dance cheek to cheek at this point, just so there will be more room.

I don't really care if you want to gab to everyone on your list of contacts, even though the gym has a strict rule about not using cell phones in the locker room. But do you think you could put your clothes on before you talk on the phone for half an hour? Or at least put a towel on the bench before you sit down?

If you want to spend twenty minutes applying five layers of makeup, whatever. But could you not scatter your stuff all over the counter so that there's no room for me to blow dry my hair? I really don't want to have to blow dry your face just to get you to move. But I will if I have to.

That sleeveless shirt really shows off your muscular arms. You look very strong and manly. You know what else would look good on you? Shorts. I mean, why cover up your muscular legs with those baggy workout pants?

You know what this gym needs? A juice bar. Preferably one that employs muscular guys in sleeveless shirts and shorts.

Thank you for being a gentleman and opening the door for me. That made my day. That almost made up for all the other times the other cute guys at the gym took one look at me and then immediately looked around for one of the girls on the exercise balls.

Do you belong to a gym? What do you wish you could say to the people who work out there?

Writing Space

I've been having difficulty lately finding a good place to write. Even though I usually prefer peace and quiet when I work (blame it on the fact that I grew up in a small town, which was always quiet, except when people were playing sports or gossiping about each other), I don't mind the noisy atmosphere of cafes. (You'd think that after living in Chicago for several years I'd be more tolerant of noise by now. You'd think, right?)

What does bother me, however are the Wi-Fi freeloaders. I mentioned them in my last post; they're the people who camp out for hours with their laptops and don't buy anything (they're even more annoying than the people with laptops who nurse one cup of coffee for hours). Even though they can get free Wi-Fi at the public library (where they're obviously not expected to buy anything), they think it makes more sense to take up extra tables and prevent paying customers at cafes from sitting down.

Freeloader #1: Did you see that guy's hair? I'm totally going to tweet about him.
Freeloader #2: Too late. I already did.
Freeloader #1: What? I can't believe you did that! I wanted to tweet about it!
Freeloader #2: You're just jealous because I have more followers than you.
What I wish I could have said: Tweet this, freeloaders! (I also wish I could have raised my coffee cup high over my head, so that they'd throw themselves over their laptops, sobbing, "NO! Not our laptops! Take us instead!")

I've tried writing in the library at school, because theoretically it's a quiet place to work. I say "theoretically" because several of the undergrads go there to do anything but study. It's often noisier in there than it is at Wrigley Field on game day, or the bars in Wrigleyville after the game is over.

Undergrad #1: I can't believe the professor assigned us all this homework! I have no time to work on this.
Me: Maybe if you had done something other than sit there and complain for the past two hours, you'd have had time to get it done.
Undergrad #2: Haha, check out what somebody carved on the desk! I didn't even know that was a swear word!
Undergrad #3: Oh, I just got another text message from that girl I told you about.
Me: I know. So does everyone else in this library. If you're going to keep texting, do you think you could at least silence your phone before I silence it for you?
Undergrad #1: Have you seen my study partner? JANE? WHERE ARE YOU? I'M NOT DOING THIS PROJECT ALL BY MYSELF!
Me: Do not start throwing things. Do not start throwing things.

I've also tried writing on the buses and trains, because I spend a lot of time commuting every day. But because it's tourist season I'm often stuck standing. When I do get a seat, I've found that people often sneak peeks at what I'm writing.

Creepy Guy sitting next to me: What are you writing?
Me: Um, I'm just writing in my journal.
Creepy Guy: Can I read it?
Me: No.
Creepy Guy: Since you're writing stuff down anyway, can you at least write down your phone number for me?
Me: No. I have to go far away now.

I've also tried writing in my apartment, but it always feels like it's eighty or ninety degrees in there, even in the winter.

Me: It is so hot in here! I feel like I'm melting! I'm meeellltttinngg!
Guy passing by outside: Sounds like the Wicked Witch of the Midwest is freaking out again.

Since it gets so hot in my apartment, I have to turn on my fan and open my windows. However, due to faulty screens, bugs keep crawling into my apartment.

Me: Oh, dear God, exactly how many legs does that thing have? Get away, Demon Bug, GET AWAY!

So I'm still trying to find a place to write. But I did read this interesting post recently by a former publishing intern; her post made me think that if she can write her novel in a van, I should be able to get my writing done anywhere. That's if I can restrain myself from hurling coffee or library books at loud people.

Here are some pictures of writing spaces that I thought looked cool:

                        (Novelist Will Self's writing space)

                               (Writer Belle Yang's writing room)

What about you? Where do you like to write? Which places do you think are most/least conducive to writing?

And I Thought Black Swan Was Scary

Two or three times a year, I like to treat myself to a movie. I don't go more often because I can't afford it. I don't have Netflix for the same reasons. But I like going to the movies. I like sitting in a dark theater in front of a giant screen. It's fun to get pulled into someone else's world for a while. And the buttery popcorn is good too. (I know, I know, it's totally unhealthy, but I only eat it twice a year. So whatever.)

I also like going to movies alone, because then I get to pick what I want to see and I don't have to share my food with anyone. Also, my friends don't always like my movie selections. For example, I actually went to see Mariah Carey's movie, Glitter, when it came out. (Okay. You can stop groaning now.) I couldn't see why everyone hated it so much. I didn't think it was that bad. (But admittedly, it wasn't that great, either.)

Recently, I went to watch Black Swan, partly because I wanted to see what all the fuss was about, and partly because I've always admired Natalie Portman's work as an actress. And in this movie she was, as always, brilliant.

However, the movie was slightly confusing, because I couldn't really tell what was real and what was not (which I guess was the point). Since it was a thriller, there were several instances in the movie where the audience was suddenly startled by something particularly shocking or scary. (And maybe that's why I was confused by the movie, because I kept covering my eyes and ended up missing parts of it.) At least twice during the movie I gasped, jumped in my seat, and spilled some of my popcorn. It landed on a guy sitting near me. He looked at me as if to say, "At least aim the popcorn towards my mouth next time."

I like sitting in the back of the movie theater, because there are usually fewer people up there. However, there is one disadvantage, because it gives you a full view of everyone in front of you. That includes everyone who loves their cell phones so much that they can't bear to turn them off for two hours.

It's as if they want to say, "I can't, I just can't! What if my best friends update their Twitter feed and I can't immediately respond to their Tweets? What if someone in my family calls for the third time today to discuss what we talked about in the last two calls? What if someone sees my Facebook page and has no idea what I'm doing because I haven't been able to update my Facebook status in over an hour? Then there would just be madness, I tell you!"

There was this woman in front of me who pulled out her phone to send and receive text messages at least six times throughout the movie (I counted). Texting isn't as bad as talking on the phone, but the light from her phone shone directly into my face, as if someone was shining a miniature flashlight at me. I wanted to say to her, "You want to see something scary? Turn around, JERK!"

It got to the point where I was ready to lean forward and tell her, "Could you please stop doing that? The light from your phone is bothering me." But I was going to say it in a polite way, without dumping my giant soda (which apparently is laced with some kind of mind-altering fluid that makes anyone who drinks it willing to pay more than their ticket price for soda and popcorn) on her head, and without taking her phone away and flinging it at the screen and yelling, "Go FETCH!" But I didn't, because she finally shut her phone and put it away.

There was a younger girl there, who looked like she was twelve or thirteen, who actually answered her phone during the movie. It sounded like she was talking to someone she had a crush on, because she said, "Oh, hi. No, not much is going on right now." Everyone in the audience let out a collective groan, and for a moment I was afraid that they were all going to attack her with their own cell phones. Fortunately, she walked out of the theater, still talking on her phone, of course.

I also found myself wishing I hadn't bought such a large soda (although honestly, a small soda at a theater is basically a large soda), because I kept fidgeting for half of the movie. Finally I got up about halfway through the movie and tried to make my way down the aisle, though I tripped over someone's enormous shoes and my arms started waving in the air. Then I almost went flying, looking as if I was trying to imitate the dancers leaping across the stage in the movie (I wasn't). I tried to apologize to the person I tripped over, but someone else was all, "SHHHH!" And I was all, "You SHHHHH!"

It was then that I realized that the lack of money isn't the only reason I rarely go to the movies.

What about you? What do you like/dislike about the movie theater?

The Missing Snowman

I recently read an article about a woman in the UK who called the police because she claimed that someone stole her snowman (I kid you not). According to the article, the woman thought her call was justified because she used "1-pound coins for the eyes and teaspoons for the arms". And all I could think was, Really?

Maybe it wasn't theft. Maybe someone had some kind of vendetta against snowmen and went on a rampage the night before, destroying every snowman in sight, screaming, "You think you're so COOL!"

Or maybe one of the other snowmen came to life, like in that Calvin and Hobbes comic strip where Calvin brings a snowman to life. It turns evil and creates other evil snowmen, and then they all go after Calvin and Hobbes until the snowmen are defeated when Calvin sprays them with water and turns them to ice. So maybe there was a whole army of evil snowmen who destroyed the good snowman like the one that woman called the police about. Maybe the good snowman didn't want to join in their crusade to take Frosty down once and for all and they attacked him and...

ANYWAY, it's not like there aren't any people in the U.S. who call the police for stupid reasons. I've read news articles about people who called 911 from McDonald's because they were upset over the fact that there were no more chicken McNuggets. And again I must ask, Really?

911 operators and police officers have extremely stressful jobs. Yes, their job is to protect and help people. But I think that some people are so self-centered that they expect the police to just come running every time there's an "emergency". And as that article I read pointed out, the problem with that is that it takes the police's time and attention away from genuine emergencies. Here are a few examples of how I imagine some of those 911 calls might go:

911 Operator: 911, what's your emergency?
Bridezilla: There's another bride out there who is planning to wear the same dress as mine to HER wedding! I want her arrested! Better yet, I want her to be sentenced to wear one of those poufy bridesmaid dresses so that everyone will laugh at her and then no one will upstage me on MY day!
911 Operator: Um, that's not really...
Bridezilla: Arrest her RIGHT NOW! Or I will throw all the wedding cakes I rejected at you!

Operator: 911, what's your emergency?
Customer: This stupid cashier won't let me use my coupon. Yes, I know it's expired, but so what? I WANT my DVD box set of The Gossip Girl and I want it now! And I think that that cashier should be forced to watch every single episode of this show just so she'll see why this show is so realistic! I mean, this show just speaks to everyone. I know that not everyone cheats on their boyfriend with their boyfriend's best friend while also having secret affairs with their best friends' boyfriends, but it's still so REAL.
Operator: I'm sorry, but the police can't really help you with that.
Customer: I want to talk to your manager! Just as soon as I finish yelling at this cashier's manager!

Operator: 911, what's your emergency?
Cheapskate: I want to report a team of thieves over at this cafe.
Operator: Is there a robbery in progress?
Cheapskate: There most certainly is. They have a tip jar!
Operator: What?
Cheapskate: Did you not hear me? They are expecting customers to give them tips! I just spent four dollars on this cup of coffee, and they expect me to give them spare change. The nerve of these people! I think tip jars should be banned everywhere. It's not like people can't live on minimum wage.
Operator: Well, actually...
Cheapskate: By the way, I'm not getting charged for this call, am I? (I actually did hear a story about a woman who wrote to the Jimmy John's sandwich company to complain about the tip jars, and they ended up taking the tip jars away. Can you believe that? It's like, if you don't want to leave a tip, don't leave a tip. But it's nice if you do leave one. But either way, don't punish the people who are just trying to earn a living.)

I think you can get arrested or at least fined for making 911 calls for non-emergencies. But I respect the people who work in this field, because they do a lot to help people. And they also must have an incredible amount of patience to deal with all the annoying people who call for dumb reasons, because if it were me I would disconnect their phone service or just send the police to arrest them.

Missed (Dis) Connections

When I was looking for part-time work on Craigslist a few years ago, I couldn't help noticing the "Missed Connections" ads in the personals section. If you've never heard of it, it's a series of personal ads where people will post messages to strangers who caught their attention, in the hopes that those people will read those ads and respond to them. There's something sweet and hopeful about it, even if the chances are a million to one that the person will actually respond.

(I found the ad above from collegehumor.com, but the ones below are mine. :)

On the other hand, sometimes the ads are weird and a little creepy; occasionally you might see an ad that reads something like this:

Girl on the 56 bus:
You were the beautiful girl in a blue dress on the 56 bus heading south. I was the guy in dark sunglasses and a hooded sweatshirt, silently stalking you from a few seats away. If you ever want someone to follow you around and watch every move you make with binoculars, I'm your man.

What do you think of those ads? If you were/are single, would you ever try placing one? I don't think I'd ever place a "missed connection" ad, just because it's doubtful that whoever I almost "connected" with will ever read it, and it's possible that my friendly neighborhood sociopath might respond to it. But on the other hand, there are a few random people who I've come across that I wouldn't mind seeing again, if only so that I could say the following things to them:

Red line train:
There was a whole crowd of us waiting to get on the train during rush hour. You were the woman standing behind me who kept jabbing at my back with your purse because you were trying to push me out of the way. I hope to see you again soon, because then I can introduce your purse to my flame thrower.

Jewel-Osco:
I was standing in line at Jewel-Osco, waiting to pay for my groceries. You were the guy buying steak and potatoes, and you cut in front of me at the last minute, then refused to move even after I told you that I was first. I hope you respond to this ad, so that I can go to your house, take away the groceries you bought, feed them to my pet alligator, and dare you to stick your hand in its mouth to get them back. Try eating the food NOW, tough guy!

Starbucks cafe, South Loop:
I was sitting by the window, writing in a notebook. You were sitting across the room, talking on your cell phone for half an hour at top volume, after yelling at the barista for getting your order wrong. And then you started laughing when the barista was driven to tears. Maybe you'll read this and we could meet in person, so that you can tell me all about the time you sold your soul for more cell phone minutes.

University library:
I was the graduate student doing research at a table stacked with books. You were at the table next to mine, listening to death metal music on your headphones, also at top volume (perhaps you're related to the cell phone guy, who may also be related to Satan?). I wondered how you were able to concentrate on your work with that music pounding in your ears, because I definitely couldn't concentrate on mine. I tried moving to another table across the room, but I could still hear your music. I hope to see you one day, and I hope to see that your ears have fallen off.

Downtown restaurant:
You were a cute guy in your early thirties sitting at a table not far from mine, reading a book by one of my favorite authors as you ate your lunch. You caught my eye and smiled. I got flustered that you were looking at me and I promptly spit out Coke through my nose, started choking on my French fries, and knocked over the contents of my purse onto the floor, which subsequently made the waiter trip and spill the food he was carrying onto a family of four who was at the next table. Sorry about that. If there ever is a next time, I'll say hi.