Driving sucks.
That's all there is to it. I hate it so much. Sure, it can get you where you want to go. And in all the places I've ever lived in the US, it's basically a necessity. The towns are always too spread out to do anything but drive if you want to make any good time at all and get to where you're going. But I still hate it.
I've always hated driving. I love being outside, and when I'm in a car, I feel like I'm missing so much. Just think about it: if you walk some place, you notice so much more than if you drive.
I spent four months living in London, and I walked everywhere or took public transportation. And it was so relaxing! Because I didn't have to worry about ever getting in a car, starting it up, paying for gas, driving with other crazy drivers, or figuring out driving directions.
All I had to worry about was walking or sitting in a seat and being taken where I wanted to go. And I got to see everything. I got to feel fresh air, even if, most of the time, it was freezing cold. I got to feel rain, even though, most of the time it was also freezing cold. And wet. Very wet. But I wouldn't change it for the world.
Driving is so distant. There's so much metal and rubber and glass in the way of everything else. And sitting in traffic is horrible. The only good thing about driving is listening to music. But that's not even an excuse, because I have an iPod and headphones.
And sure, when you're in a car, you can belt out the music and dance around like a crazy person. But you can also do that while walking down the street.
It might be a little stranger, but you can still do it.
So I'm glad I have a car and I'm glad I have the ability to drive.
But if the whole world wanted to shrink itself and compress a little or if anyone wanted to build an awesome system of public transportation everywhere, then I'd be eternally grateful.
Because I really, truly don't want to spend my entire life alone in a car, stuck in traffic.
Saturday, June 8, 2013
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Ferris Wheels
Last year, my boyfriend and I went to Santa Monica Pier. So we had to ride the Ferris wheel. Just had to.
Now, I hated Ferris wheels before, but I hadn't been on one since I was, like, seven, so I thought maybe I'd outgrown that. After all, I ride roller coasters just fine.
But as soon as that thing started moving, I grabbed the middle bar and froze. Because that's all there was: a middle bar. It'd be so easy to fall out of those things and, in my example, onto the Santa Monica Pier, smushed flat in front of hundreds of people. Or into shark-infested Pacific waters if I was lucky enough to clear the pier.
I'm not a fan of heights, and I'm certainly not a fan of heights with lots of wind, swinging doors, and no seat belts.
Eventually, I moved back into the seat and ventured my camera out of its case and the view was fantastic. But our tickets said we'd go around two times, and we went around six! Six rotations in that rickety death trap 30,000 feet up in the air.
Yes, I know we weren't actually 30,000 feet up, but still.
Do not throw articles from gondola. Especially your body.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Roots
I'm not talking about the critically-acclaimed book and miniseries, or the band that plays on Jimmy Fallon's show. I'm talking about hair.
If you're going to dye your hair, dye your hair.
Nothing bothers me more (ok, a few things do) than people with blonde hair and brown roots. Or brown hair and blonde roots. Or red hair and blonde roots. You get my drift.
It looks awful.
It looks skunky.
It looks downright trashy.
I understand, some people are trying to grow their natural hair color out, so they're letting their roots grow, but maybe those people with naturally brown hair dyed blonde should dye their hair brown first, so it doesn't look so horrible. Easy, right?
Or maybe they should wear their hair up the whole time, so I don't have to see the horrible contrast.
And maybe some people just can't afford to get more hair dye. Fine.
But what's up with people, like Rihanna?
She's one of the biggest pop stars in the world, a millionaire, and she's walking around with black roots.
Seriously?
Maybe it's some kind of fashion statement I'm unaware of.
But I don't find it "edgy" or "daring," or any of the other red-carpet fashion terms people use.
I just find it cheap-looking and horrendous.
If you're going to dye your hair, dye your hair.
Nothing bothers me more (ok, a few things do) than people with blonde hair and brown roots. Or brown hair and blonde roots. Or red hair and blonde roots. You get my drift.
It looks awful.
It looks skunky.
It looks downright trashy.
I understand, some people are trying to grow their natural hair color out, so they're letting their roots grow, but maybe those people with naturally brown hair dyed blonde should dye their hair brown first, so it doesn't look so horrible. Easy, right?
Or maybe they should wear their hair up the whole time, so I don't have to see the horrible contrast.
And maybe some people just can't afford to get more hair dye. Fine.
But what's up with people, like Rihanna?
She's one of the biggest pop stars in the world, a millionaire, and she's walking around with black roots.
Seriously?
Maybe it's some kind of fashion statement I'm unaware of.
But I don't find it "edgy" or "daring," or any of the other red-carpet fashion terms people use.
I just find it cheap-looking and horrendous.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
3D Movies
Now, it's not that I hate 3D movies, per se.
Avatar was really cool and 3D and 4D movies at theme parks are incredible.
But now days you can't walk into a movie theater without at least two movies being in 3D. And it's getting a little ridiculous.
Animated movies in 3D? Sure, yeah, whatever. Those are fun.
Action/Adventure movies in 3D? That's bad enough.
But now they're doing dramas in 3D.
Titanic is coming back to theaters in 3-D for the special 100th anniversary of the sinking ship. So now we can see a pencil drawing of a naked woman and a man hitting a ship propeller like they're right in our room!
Think that's bad enough?
Well, it isn't.
The king of all bad 3D movies has to be the upcoming Great Gatsby film.
Because when is it ever necessary for a tragic literary classic written by an alcoholic to be in 3D?
I mean, I guess the producers thought that 1920s jazz parties, low-speed car races, and a drunken, cheating woman wandering out in the road and getting hit by a car constitute reason to throw on some large, black-rimmed glasses.
But guess what?
They don't.
And what's up with 3D sequels? I love the Harry Potter series, probably more than any other in the history of literature/cinema. But 7 movies in 2D and one in 3D? You know what I call that? A marketing ploy. A good one, seeing as how the 3D glasses were Harry Potter ones, but a marketing ploy nonetheless.
And Transformers: Dark of the Moon in 3D? I won't even make mention of how they're trying to sound like a Pink Floyd album. But aren't the Transformer movies seizure-inducing and obnoxious enough in 2D? I don't think mighty morphing machines need to be popping out at the audience on top of it all.
And, whoa, back up! Star Wars: Episode I is coming to theaters again? And it's in 3D? Mr. Lucas, what makes you think this was a good idea? There is no nerd in the world that I've talked to who liked this film to begin with. And you're going to bring it back? And make people pay twice as much to see it?
Bad move.
Anyway, long story short, 3D needs to stop. Unless it's at a theme park and there's water coming out of the seats and you can smell pastries cooking.
But everybody's done paying a million extra dollars to see one scene in 3D (I'm talking to you, Alice in Wonderland). So, please, let's go back to the time of old and just have some good, quality, 2D movies in theaters. Because I can't help but think people have resorted to writing awful stories and sticking a 3D tag on them just to draw people in.
Avatar was really cool and 3D and 4D movies at theme parks are incredible.
But now days you can't walk into a movie theater without at least two movies being in 3D. And it's getting a little ridiculous.
Animated movies in 3D? Sure, yeah, whatever. Those are fun.
Action/Adventure movies in 3D? That's bad enough.
But now they're doing dramas in 3D.
Titanic is coming back to theaters in 3-D for the special 100th anniversary of the sinking ship. So now we can see a pencil drawing of a naked woman and a man hitting a ship propeller like they're right in our room!
Think that's bad enough?
Well, it isn't.
The king of all bad 3D movies has to be the upcoming Great Gatsby film.
Because when is it ever necessary for a tragic literary classic written by an alcoholic to be in 3D?
I mean, I guess the producers thought that 1920s jazz parties, low-speed car races, and a drunken, cheating woman wandering out in the road and getting hit by a car constitute reason to throw on some large, black-rimmed glasses.
But guess what?
They don't.
And what's up with 3D sequels? I love the Harry Potter series, probably more than any other in the history of literature/cinema. But 7 movies in 2D and one in 3D? You know what I call that? A marketing ploy. A good one, seeing as how the 3D glasses were Harry Potter ones, but a marketing ploy nonetheless.
And Transformers: Dark of the Moon in 3D? I won't even make mention of how they're trying to sound like a Pink Floyd album. But aren't the Transformer movies seizure-inducing and obnoxious enough in 2D? I don't think mighty morphing machines need to be popping out at the audience on top of it all.
And, whoa, back up! Star Wars: Episode I is coming to theaters again? And it's in 3D? Mr. Lucas, what makes you think this was a good idea? There is no nerd in the world that I've talked to who liked this film to begin with. And you're going to bring it back? And make people pay twice as much to see it?
Bad move.
Anyway, long story short, 3D needs to stop. Unless it's at a theme park and there's water coming out of the seats and you can smell pastries cooking.
But everybody's done paying a million extra dollars to see one scene in 3D (I'm talking to you, Alice in Wonderland). So, please, let's go back to the time of old and just have some good, quality, 2D movies in theaters. Because I can't help but think people have resorted to writing awful stories and sticking a 3D tag on them just to draw people in.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Cold Water
I love to drink cold water when it's hot out or when I'm exercising.
Oh yes, then, there's nothing better.
I don't, however, like cold water when I have to put my entire body in it.
For example, in Lake Superior.
See, Lake Superior is huge. And I've grown up next to it all my life, and it's pretty, and it's great to go sit on the beaches of Lake Superior and read a book.
But put your foot in it, and you may get frostbite.
Sometimes it's really hot out, like 90 degrees, and there's nothing to cool off in, because there are no township pools around and I'm sure as heck not going to jump in a lake that has had 52 degrees as its record high water temperature.
So I don't. Which is fine.
But sometimes, people insist on throwing this freezing cold water at me. Some people will do it on purpose, while sometimes it's just caused by kids running by and splashing when I'm wading in it. But it annoys me.
I love the ocean, because it's always warm. Sometimes even hot. And to me, that's the way to go for swimming.
Speaking of swimming, I also hate cold water when it's in swimming pools. If you advertise a "heated pool," please, by all means, make sure it's heated. Because, I swear, I've sometimes swam in pools just as cold as that aforementioned, gigantic, lake.
But what is the absolute worst thing about cold water?
That sometimes, cold water ends up in my shower.
And this, I swear to you, is the worst thing that could ever possibly happen.
In my first apartment ever, I woke up the first day, hopped in the shower, and was greeted by FREEZING COLD WATER pelting down on me. So, of course, doing what any normal person would do, I jumped right back out of the shower, wrapped myself in my towel, and cursed under my breath.
And it continued like this for a few days afterward. But what could I do about it? Nothing. So I dealt with it, and was probably grumpy those few mornings.
The other bad thing about shower water is when it turns cold without warning. For example, I'll be enjoying a nice hot shower, and all of a sudden, I'll have mounds of shampoo in my hair, and the water will turn cold.
And I don't really have the option to jump out, then, because there's shampoo all over my head! So I have no choice but to finish my shower in the ice water. And skip the conditioner.
Sometimes this happens to me at hotels. And it's then that I wonder, "Dear hotel, why wouldn't you have a hot water heater large enough for your 150 rooms?" And then wish I had not stayed there.
Because there is possibly nothing more annoying in the world than cold shower water.
Oh yes, then, there's nothing better.
I don't, however, like cold water when I have to put my entire body in it.
For example, in Lake Superior.
See, Lake Superior is huge. And I've grown up next to it all my life, and it's pretty, and it's great to go sit on the beaches of Lake Superior and read a book.
But put your foot in it, and you may get frostbite.
Sometimes it's really hot out, like 90 degrees, and there's nothing to cool off in, because there are no township pools around and I'm sure as heck not going to jump in a lake that has had 52 degrees as its record high water temperature.
So I don't. Which is fine.
But sometimes, people insist on throwing this freezing cold water at me. Some people will do it on purpose, while sometimes it's just caused by kids running by and splashing when I'm wading in it. But it annoys me.
I love the ocean, because it's always warm. Sometimes even hot. And to me, that's the way to go for swimming.
Speaking of swimming, I also hate cold water when it's in swimming pools. If you advertise a "heated pool," please, by all means, make sure it's heated. Because, I swear, I've sometimes swam in pools just as cold as that aforementioned, gigantic, lake.
But what is the absolute worst thing about cold water?
That sometimes, cold water ends up in my shower.
And this, I swear to you, is the worst thing that could ever possibly happen.
In my first apartment ever, I woke up the first day, hopped in the shower, and was greeted by FREEZING COLD WATER pelting down on me. So, of course, doing what any normal person would do, I jumped right back out of the shower, wrapped myself in my towel, and cursed under my breath.
And it continued like this for a few days afterward. But what could I do about it? Nothing. So I dealt with it, and was probably grumpy those few mornings.
The other bad thing about shower water is when it turns cold without warning. For example, I'll be enjoying a nice hot shower, and all of a sudden, I'll have mounds of shampoo in my hair, and the water will turn cold.
And I don't really have the option to jump out, then, because there's shampoo all over my head! So I have no choice but to finish my shower in the ice water. And skip the conditioner.
Sometimes this happens to me at hotels. And it's then that I wonder, "Dear hotel, why wouldn't you have a hot water heater large enough for your 150 rooms?" And then wish I had not stayed there.
Because there is possibly nothing more annoying in the world than cold shower water.
Blood of Any Kind
I hate blood.
I know it's essential in order for me to live and all that.
But I can't stand it.
I can't stand it gushing out of a paper cut. I can't stand the taste of it when it's dribbling out from between my teeth after I floss. I can't even stand looking at my veins, because I know there's blood running through them.
I also don't like to see it on a Band-aid, or, most certainly, seeping through a Band-aid. I don't like to see it on a washcloth, which is what I once had to use to sop up a cut after I broke a plate on my finger.
I don't even like to think about it. Seriously. Even writing this right now makes my limbs feel like jelly. I feel like all of the life has gone out of my knees and arms, and they're just floating there, allowing me to type.
But I'll take one for the team. This has to be said.
I'm glad I have blood. Don't get me wrong. I just think the major thing is, I don't like to lose it. And who does?
See, if blood stayed inside my body at all times, I wouldn't have to see it, and I wouldn't have to cringe at or be afraid of it. I could just never look at my veins and be perfectly happy. But, unfortunately, that doesn't always happen.
And I'm glad that people donate blood, because it's important. But it always freaks me out when I see the Bloodmobile driving by, because I think about what a messy, horrific scene it would be if that van ever crashed.
I've actually given blood myself, once. Oh, yes, I did. And I cried the whole way through it, and had to have my friend hold my hand. Because I am obviously a little baby.
And in this one experience of giving blood, the nurse took the whole pint, took the needle out of my arm, and then said, "Uh oh."
"Uh oh?" Really?
That is not the thing you want to hear after you've been sitting in a chair under torture, thinking about your blood being pumped through a little straw.
The "uh oh" was nothing major, really. Only my blood didn't clot (a word that I refuse to ever use in speaking, because it hurts my arms), and she had to poke the other arm to get my blood sample. So I walked around all day with two neon orange bandages wrapped around the inside of my elbows.
But that's just human blood. Do I have a problem with other types of blood?
Yes. Yes, I do.
I worked at a cafeteria once, and we had to cook burgers. And sometimes, when I put a burger on the grill, I would get blood on my gloves. Which is really bad enough. But at least it's just little specks, and you can change them.
But once, I took the pan out that held the burgers, because all of them were gone. I was going to bring the pan back to the dish washing room, when all of a sudden, I tipped the pan a little and blood went all over the floor. I'm not kidding. Everywhere. It looked like some kind of horrible crime scene.
Oh, and did I mention it went on my shoe? Yes. Blood. On my shoe.
And speaking of blood and cafeterias, we had a cafeteria at my college that once served prime rib for Christmas dinner. And guess what that prime rib did? Bled all over my plate and melded into my other food. Because (silly me), I didn't realize that "prime rib" was really code for "half-alive cow."
So, there you have it. I hate blood.
I love it when it's inside my body.
I hate it when it's gushing out of anything, on the floor, on any kind of fabric, or on my plate.
And I don't care what any "rare meat" activists try to tell me. Blood streaming out onto my plate is not for me.
It's certainly not my type.
I know it's essential in order for me to live and all that.
But I can't stand it.
I can't stand it gushing out of a paper cut. I can't stand the taste of it when it's dribbling out from between my teeth after I floss. I can't even stand looking at my veins, because I know there's blood running through them.
I also don't like to see it on a Band-aid, or, most certainly, seeping through a Band-aid. I don't like to see it on a washcloth, which is what I once had to use to sop up a cut after I broke a plate on my finger.
I don't even like to think about it. Seriously. Even writing this right now makes my limbs feel like jelly. I feel like all of the life has gone out of my knees and arms, and they're just floating there, allowing me to type.
But I'll take one for the team. This has to be said.
I'm glad I have blood. Don't get me wrong. I just think the major thing is, I don't like to lose it. And who does?
See, if blood stayed inside my body at all times, I wouldn't have to see it, and I wouldn't have to cringe at or be afraid of it. I could just never look at my veins and be perfectly happy. But, unfortunately, that doesn't always happen.
And I'm glad that people donate blood, because it's important. But it always freaks me out when I see the Bloodmobile driving by, because I think about what a messy, horrific scene it would be if that van ever crashed.
I've actually given blood myself, once. Oh, yes, I did. And I cried the whole way through it, and had to have my friend hold my hand. Because I am obviously a little baby.
And in this one experience of giving blood, the nurse took the whole pint, took the needle out of my arm, and then said, "Uh oh."
"Uh oh?" Really?
That is not the thing you want to hear after you've been sitting in a chair under torture, thinking about your blood being pumped through a little straw.
The "uh oh" was nothing major, really. Only my blood didn't clot (a word that I refuse to ever use in speaking, because it hurts my arms), and she had to poke the other arm to get my blood sample. So I walked around all day with two neon orange bandages wrapped around the inside of my elbows.
But that's just human blood. Do I have a problem with other types of blood?
Yes. Yes, I do.
I worked at a cafeteria once, and we had to cook burgers. And sometimes, when I put a burger on the grill, I would get blood on my gloves. Which is really bad enough. But at least it's just little specks, and you can change them.
But once, I took the pan out that held the burgers, because all of them were gone. I was going to bring the pan back to the dish washing room, when all of a sudden, I tipped the pan a little and blood went all over the floor. I'm not kidding. Everywhere. It looked like some kind of horrible crime scene.
Oh, and did I mention it went on my shoe? Yes. Blood. On my shoe.
And speaking of blood and cafeterias, we had a cafeteria at my college that once served prime rib for Christmas dinner. And guess what that prime rib did? Bled all over my plate and melded into my other food. Because (silly me), I didn't realize that "prime rib" was really code for "half-alive cow."
So, there you have it. I hate blood.
I love it when it's inside my body.
I hate it when it's gushing out of anything, on the floor, on any kind of fabric, or on my plate.
And I don't care what any "rare meat" activists try to tell me. Blood streaming out onto my plate is not for me.
It's certainly not my type.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Voicemail
I'm very thankful that I can get messages when I'm not around to answer my phone.
Yet, for some reason, that little "New Voicemail" icon on my cell phone really irks me.
Mine's a little, green, faceless guy who shows up in the bottom corner and won't leave.
He always overstays his welcome.
I just can't stand having that icon there. CAN'T STAND IT!
So I check it.
And then I have to put in my pass code.
Because someone might hack into my voicemail and steal important information like...my phone messages.
GASP!
So I put in my passcode and all that, and I get to the main menu. And I have two new messages (I'm very popular. Either that, or I lost my phone for about a week).
And to get to the two new messages, I have to press 1.
And it finally plays the first message.
But I don't want to hear that one (it's from my arch-frenemy).
So I want to skip that one and go to the next. But my voicemail won't let me!
It's non-discriminatory. It thinks all voicemail messages are just as important as others. But they're not.
So I have to listen to all that just to get to one I actually want to hear.
And now I'm exhausted and probably have ear cancer from being on the phone so long.
And don't even get me started on saved messages.
I have four saved messages, and I really need to hear this specific one. But, no skipping!
So I have to listen to eight minutes of voicemail messages just to get to the one I need to hear, and by then, I've forgotten why I needed to hear it in the first place.
Good intentions, voicemail, but you're flawed.
Seriously flawed.
Yet, for some reason, that little "New Voicemail" icon on my cell phone really irks me.
Mine's a little, green, faceless guy who shows up in the bottom corner and won't leave.
He always overstays his welcome.
I just can't stand having that icon there. CAN'T STAND IT!
So I check it.
And then I have to put in my pass code.
Because someone might hack into my voicemail and steal important information like...my phone messages.
GASP!
So I put in my passcode and all that, and I get to the main menu. And I have two new messages (I'm very popular. Either that, or I lost my phone for about a week).
And to get to the two new messages, I have to press 1.
And it finally plays the first message.
But I don't want to hear that one (it's from my arch-frenemy).
So I want to skip that one and go to the next. But my voicemail won't let me!
It's non-discriminatory. It thinks all voicemail messages are just as important as others. But they're not.
So I have to listen to all that just to get to one I actually want to hear.
And now I'm exhausted and probably have ear cancer from being on the phone so long.
And don't even get me started on saved messages.
I have four saved messages, and I really need to hear this specific one. But, no skipping!
So I have to listen to eight minutes of voicemail messages just to get to the one I need to hear, and by then, I've forgotten why I needed to hear it in the first place.
Good intentions, voicemail, but you're flawed.
Seriously flawed.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)