You know how sometimes you have certain things that you're pretty sure everyone experiences, but you're afraid that if you try to talk about it, it may just be you. And then, of course, you look like an idiot and you have to either backtrack in some way or just take all the odd looks, pointing, and mothers pulling their children away from you.
But I'm pretty sure other people share my feelings on this one, so here we go.
Without getting into any unnecessary detail (perhaps a blog for another day), using the bathroom is a private ordeal. "Me time" as it were. And there's nothing worse than realizing the lock was broken and having someone parade on in while you're trying to read 'Parade.'
Because of these experiences, I find myself having varying feelings about different kinds of locks. Let us begin.
1) A Big Bolt: Nothing's more satisfying than turning a thick piece of metal into the door frame. Ain't no one getting in there. Even when someone turns the door to try to get in, you know you and Uncle John's Bathroom Reader are secure.
2) A Thin Bolt: I'm not crazy about these. Same as big bolt, only smaller and not as secure. But you still know that the chances of Passerby Joe getting in are pretty slim.
3) Push buttons: Here's an odd one. Despite the fact that I know that these work well, there's something about pushing that flimsy little button that just doesn't make me feel safe. I push this teeny little button and the whole door doesn't open? That's either magic or a hoax.
So that's pretty much all the major bathroom door locking mechanisms. But while we're on the topic, a few notes about bathrooms.
1. Whose idea was it to make bathroom stalls with gigantic gaps in them, thereby begging little kids to take a gander?
2. I get the point of automatic flushers, but automatic sinks are absurd. Hold your hands at exactly the right level to get a brief spurt of water which or may or may not be scalding hot because the possibility of choosing water temperature has been taken away.
3. Why is it that in 2008, public bathrooms are still the pinnacle of filth and disease?
Ok, I think I've digressed long enough. Basically, all bathrooms should have bolt locks so that people can do their thing in peace.
Wait, I forgot one. What's the deal with that terrible pink soap that every bathroom in the universe uses? Whoever owns that stuff must be rolling in dough.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Warning: Candy May Be Disgusting
Candy
The word alone conjures up images of chocolate rivers, everlasting gobstoppers, and lick-able wallpaper. Surely nothing could taint the image of these tasty confections, right?
Wrong!
Well, sort of. You see, the problem isn't the candy per se. My problem is when candy is not appropriately labeled.
You see, I usually make it a habit to know what I'm eating before I put it in my mouth. In addition, I expect what I eat to taste like what is. How would you react if you put an apple in your mouth, but instead, it tasted like goulash?
My problem is when candy has the appearance of deliciousness, as most candy does, but instead, tastes horrendous. The prime example comes from Jelly Belly jelly beans.
Here we have about 455 flavors, each with their own distinct taste. Some are grape and cherry. Hurrah! Normalcy. Then there are the other flavors....like butter popcorn.
Butter popcorn? That's about one step removed from getting an earwax candy in Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Bean.
I think that if there are going to be that many jelly beans in one container, and especially when you have, like, 4 shades of green and you just have to know which is which, that each jelly bean needs to be carefully labeled. Sort of like an 'M&M' branding only instead it will say 'PASSION FRUIT', 'BUTTERSCOTCH', or 'FRESHLY CUT GRASS.'
And while we're on the subject of candy, I have a suggestion that I would like to see. Take a typical candy--Mike and Ike's. Why don't they realize that their sales would sky rocket if they made them all red? Everyone wants the reds. Very few, if any, people are jumping for the yellows. Red is always the best flavor. So why don't they just make us happy and make it all red? Are they worried we'll get spoiled? Is red more expensive than yellow? Doubtful.
Although on second thought, I'm about the only person in the world who liked banana flavored Laffy Taffys. Hmm....ok, forget what I just said.
The word alone conjures up images of chocolate rivers, everlasting gobstoppers, and lick-able wallpaper. Surely nothing could taint the image of these tasty confections, right?
Wrong!
Well, sort of. You see, the problem isn't the candy per se. My problem is when candy is not appropriately labeled.
You see, I usually make it a habit to know what I'm eating before I put it in my mouth. In addition, I expect what I eat to taste like what is. How would you react if you put an apple in your mouth, but instead, it tasted like goulash?
My problem is when candy has the appearance of deliciousness, as most candy does, but instead, tastes horrendous. The prime example comes from Jelly Belly jelly beans.
Here we have about 455 flavors, each with their own distinct taste. Some are grape and cherry. Hurrah! Normalcy. Then there are the other flavors....like butter popcorn.
Butter popcorn? That's about one step removed from getting an earwax candy in Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Bean.
I think that if there are going to be that many jelly beans in one container, and especially when you have, like, 4 shades of green and you just have to know which is which, that each jelly bean needs to be carefully labeled. Sort of like an 'M&M' branding only instead it will say 'PASSION FRUIT', 'BUTTERSCOTCH', or 'FRESHLY CUT GRASS.'
And while we're on the subject of candy, I have a suggestion that I would like to see. Take a typical candy--Mike and Ike's. Why don't they realize that their sales would sky rocket if they made them all red? Everyone wants the reds. Very few, if any, people are jumping for the yellows. Red is always the best flavor. So why don't they just make us happy and make it all red? Are they worried we'll get spoiled? Is red more expensive than yellow? Doubtful.
Although on second thought, I'm about the only person in the world who liked banana flavored Laffy Taffys. Hmm....ok, forget what I just said.
Sunday, April 1, 2007
Spaghetti: A Confession
They say the first step to fixing a problem is admitting you have one. So here I go.
[Ahem]
I don't know how to eat spaghetti.
This statement, of course, needs some clarification. I know how to physically take spaghetti and place it into my mouth. We all learned that when we were 2 years old as can be attested to by the videos and pictures that all parents seem to take of their children's first experience with saucy pasta. Apparently it's in the same category as first bath, graduation, wedding, and golf club accidents (a la America's Funniest Home Videos).
What I mean is, I'm not very good at it. But in my defense, it's not so easy!
Let's take apart this experience one step at a time to showcase this task's insanely high level of difficulty.
(1) Get the pasta onto your fork.
This requires getting about 10 wet, stringy pieces of pasta onto a fork. That twisting motion that everyone uses is the ideal for getting the spaghetti into that convenient little ball. However, this is freaking impossible. Even if I do manage to get the spaghetti into what resembles that ball, there are always pieces hanging off the end. This would not be a big deal if not for...
(2) Get all of the spaghetti on your fork into your mouth.
What we have here is a problem of angles. The airplane is coming in for a landing, but the plane has picked up loose debris, low flying seagulls, and illegal immigrants, making the plane a difficult shape to get onto the runway in one piece. Even if I do manage to get the bite more or less into my mouth, those hanging pieces are often still hanging outside of my mouth which leads us to...
(3) Get all of the hanging pieces into your mouth without getting sauce all over your mouth, clothing, general area, people sitting within a close proximity, etc.
Slurping is often the only option at this point. But what to do!? Slurpage leads to message! Hmm...not message---mess-age. Whatever. Point is, it makes a mess. This too would not be such a huge problem if not for...
(4) While doing steps 1-3, manage to look like a civilized human being who was not raised by wolves, bears, or any other wildlife of any kind.
I know what you're thinking: "What's wrong with you! You're an adult! Presumably with functioning motor skills. Surely eating spaghetti is not that hard for you."
That's where you're wrong. You see, I'm forced to believe that there was some kind of spaghetti-eating-training-day in grade school which I was absent from. How else can you explain the tower of napkins that accumulates next to my plate as I attempt to eat spaghetti?
Don't get me wrong. Observing me while eating spaghetti wouldn't be like watching a caveman eat soup with a fork. I'm not a complete moron. But I do find it to be quite a daunting task.
Some possible ways to deal with this problem:
-Pureed spaghetti
-Eating spaghetti creates a temporary drop of all rules of etiquette
-Noodles only
-Eating spaghetti creates a temporary change of all social rules. (e.g., it is rude not to have sauce all over you)
I know, I can't ask everyone else to change on my account, but a guy can dream.... I have a dream of a world where people aren't judged by the color of the stains on their shirt, but by the content of their character. [Sigh]....if only. Until then, I'll have to live with knowing that I'm a complete spaghetti eating neb. Maybe I should watch some of those old videos and see how it's done.
[Ahem]
I don't know how to eat spaghetti.
This statement, of course, needs some clarification. I know how to physically take spaghetti and place it into my mouth. We all learned that when we were 2 years old as can be attested to by the videos and pictures that all parents seem to take of their children's first experience with saucy pasta. Apparently it's in the same category as first bath, graduation, wedding, and golf club accidents (a la America's Funniest Home Videos).
What I mean is, I'm not very good at it. But in my defense, it's not so easy!
Let's take apart this experience one step at a time to showcase this task's insanely high level of difficulty.
(1) Get the pasta onto your fork.
This requires getting about 10 wet, stringy pieces of pasta onto a fork. That twisting motion that everyone uses is the ideal for getting the spaghetti into that convenient little ball. However, this is freaking impossible. Even if I do manage to get the spaghetti into what resembles that ball, there are always pieces hanging off the end. This would not be a big deal if not for...
(2) Get all of the spaghetti on your fork into your mouth.
What we have here is a problem of angles. The airplane is coming in for a landing, but the plane has picked up loose debris, low flying seagulls, and illegal immigrants, making the plane a difficult shape to get onto the runway in one piece. Even if I do manage to get the bite more or less into my mouth, those hanging pieces are often still hanging outside of my mouth which leads us to...
(3) Get all of the hanging pieces into your mouth without getting sauce all over your mouth, clothing, general area, people sitting within a close proximity, etc.
Slurping is often the only option at this point. But what to do!? Slurpage leads to message! Hmm...not message---mess-age. Whatever. Point is, it makes a mess. This too would not be such a huge problem if not for...
(4) While doing steps 1-3, manage to look like a civilized human being who was not raised by wolves, bears, or any other wildlife of any kind.
I know what you're thinking: "What's wrong with you! You're an adult! Presumably with functioning motor skills. Surely eating spaghetti is not that hard for you."
That's where you're wrong. You see, I'm forced to believe that there was some kind of spaghetti-eating-training-day in grade school which I was absent from. How else can you explain the tower of napkins that accumulates next to my plate as I attempt to eat spaghetti?
Don't get me wrong. Observing me while eating spaghetti wouldn't be like watching a caveman eat soup with a fork. I'm not a complete moron. But I do find it to be quite a daunting task.
Some possible ways to deal with this problem:
-Pureed spaghetti
-Eating spaghetti creates a temporary drop of all rules of etiquette
-Noodles only
-Eating spaghetti creates a temporary change of all social rules. (e.g., it is rude not to have sauce all over you)
I know, I can't ask everyone else to change on my account, but a guy can dream.... I have a dream of a world where people aren't judged by the color of the stains on their shirt, but by the content of their character. [Sigh]....if only. Until then, I'll have to live with knowing that I'm a complete spaghetti eating neb. Maybe I should watch some of those old videos and see how it's done.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Pointless Honesty
As I re-enter the world of blogging, I find it necessary to address a question that's been on my mind for quite some time now.
What the heck does "I'm not gonna lie" mean?
Yes, I know what it literally means--but where did this phrase come from? What function does it serve?
Allow me to explain my issue.
We often talk about speech as being the pinnacle of human evolution. Our ability to communicate with words is what separates us from the rest of the animals. It's why the one dinosaur who saw the meteor coming couldn't do anything to warn his friends of the impending doom but to slam his head against a nearby prehistoric tree. Of course, that just gathered a crowd of dinosaurs to point and laugh at him--But I suppose God got the last laugh there.
"Ha! You're extinct now! I think I'll create mammals..."
Anyway, back to humans. One would usually assume that human speech has a purpose.
For instance:
"Hey, Gregg, would you please pass the salt?"
This happens to be a fantastic way to get the salt. Human speech triumphs!
Now let's compare this to a type situation in which "I'm not gonna lie" is typically used.
"I'm really tired...I'm not gonna lie."
Hmm...well, aside from appreciating that this person is stressing their honest nature, the second half of that sentence is useless. What does being tired have to do with not lying?? Nothing as far as I can tell.
However, it's not just that the two phrases have no connection, but that "I'm not gonna lie" doesn't actually mean anything here. It's completely hollow. Bereft of purpose. An all out waste of air. You, evil speaker, have just contaminated my living space with an unhealthy amount of carbon dioxide. And to top it all off, we're minus one oxygen-giving tree which was plowed down by the head of a stegosaurus.
What's even more astounding than the use of this silly phrase, is the fact that it seems to have spread faster than that metal goop that envelops Neo before he's removed from the Matrix.
(Cultural reference: Check)
I suppose there's some linguistic/cultural/MTV effect going on here, but it seems like everyone knows and uses this phrase. Did I not get the memo? Did the President deliver some emergency address? I seem to have missed the boat.
Maybe this is just some kind of fad...like, a verbal equivalent of a Tamagachi.
Anyway, I can't really say that I pine for the day that this phrase exits our lexicon because I really don't care. I'm merely observing the silliness which is our language. Besides, I have more important things to ponder--I'm not gonna lie.
What the heck does "I'm not gonna lie" mean?
Yes, I know what it literally means--but where did this phrase come from? What function does it serve?
Allow me to explain my issue.
We often talk about speech as being the pinnacle of human evolution. Our ability to communicate with words is what separates us from the rest of the animals. It's why the one dinosaur who saw the meteor coming couldn't do anything to warn his friends of the impending doom but to slam his head against a nearby prehistoric tree. Of course, that just gathered a crowd of dinosaurs to point and laugh at him--But I suppose God got the last laugh there.
"Ha! You're extinct now! I think I'll create mammals..."
Anyway, back to humans. One would usually assume that human speech has a purpose.
For instance:
"Hey, Gregg, would you please pass the salt?"
This happens to be a fantastic way to get the salt. Human speech triumphs!
Now let's compare this to a type situation in which "I'm not gonna lie" is typically used.
"I'm really tired...I'm not gonna lie."
Hmm...well, aside from appreciating that this person is stressing their honest nature, the second half of that sentence is useless. What does being tired have to do with not lying?? Nothing as far as I can tell.
However, it's not just that the two phrases have no connection, but that "I'm not gonna lie" doesn't actually mean anything here. It's completely hollow. Bereft of purpose. An all out waste of air. You, evil speaker, have just contaminated my living space with an unhealthy amount of carbon dioxide. And to top it all off, we're minus one oxygen-giving tree which was plowed down by the head of a stegosaurus.
What's even more astounding than the use of this silly phrase, is the fact that it seems to have spread faster than that metal goop that envelops Neo before he's removed from the Matrix.
(Cultural reference: Check)
I suppose there's some linguistic/cultural/MTV effect going on here, but it seems like everyone knows and uses this phrase. Did I not get the memo? Did the President deliver some emergency address? I seem to have missed the boat.
Maybe this is just some kind of fad...like, a verbal equivalent of a Tamagachi.
Anyway, I can't really say that I pine for the day that this phrase exits our lexicon because I really don't care. I'm merely observing the silliness which is our language. Besides, I have more important things to ponder--I'm not gonna lie.
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