Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Who loves free stuff? Possible answer: EVERYONE. Answer I was aiming for: ME. So, as I have discussed on this blog, I tend to be a bit scatterbrained, and in this case it has worked in my favor. It turns out I have a horrible sense of delayed gratification, mixed with being highly impulsive, I tend to spend money right when I have it (I think this is due to the fact that I have not turned 25 yet, and pre-frontal cortex has not kicked in--the area of your brain that controls your impulses. It's science). ANYWAYS, I got a statement in the mail in relation to my credit card. Now, I vaguely remembered that with my credit card, every time you spend money, you get a certain amount of points. A few years ago I had remembered getting something in regards to this, but I didn't ever cash my points in. So, today I get my little "Cash Rewards" card, and it says I have a whopping 13,000 points, as they have been steadily building up for who knows how long. This is helpful, because had I KNOWN that I had these points, I never would have saved them up to get anything worthwhile, and I probably would have spent them on a case of candy bars or something equally worthless. Now, 13,000 points sounds like a lot, but I wasn't really sure how much it was ACTUALLY worth...I mean, that's like saying you got 20 gold stars--with an inadequate system to compare it too, I didn't know if 13,000 was really that good in the "Cash Rewards" system. Well, it turns out you can take your points and go "shopping" and cash your points in for all sorts of stuff--gift cards, fancy journals, totes, headphones. HOT. I ended up ordering myself a $50 gift card for itunes--and the best part was that only ended up spending half my points. HOLLA!!! Now I will be able to purchase episodes of SVU, Glee, along with some new jams. Now that's a steal of a deal!
Thursday, April 15, 2010
I'm pretty sure I had a dream last night that I met Mariska Hargitay but I didn't have anything for her to autograph. She was really nice and gracious, and ended up signing a paper I'd written for school or something, and wrote me a really long message with her autograph, which gives me high hopes that she's stellar in real life. After I exited whereever it was I had met her, I spotted Christopher Meloni walking down the street, but I wasn't sure if it was him because he was wearing a wig (I didn't say this dream was realistic), so I didn't stop to chat with him. I'm guessing I had this dream because a) I am obsessed (obvi) and am distraught by Chris's parting, b) I had watched my first episode of SVU yesterday in like 3 weeks (I know--that's how busy I've been!) and c) we had the first annual SJC "Take Back the Night" (find out more here: http://www.takebackthenight.org/events.html) yesterday which was awesome and powerful and beautiful, henceforth sexual violence must have been on the brain. Oh, and by the way the speaker yesterday at Take Back the Night was AMAZING and this is her organization if you want to check it out: http://www.janedoenomore.org/. They do all sorts of stuff to change sexual assault laws, and they recently passed one to get rid of the statute of limitations on sex crimes with DNA evidence, which is HUGE because a lot of people don't get justice because of statue of limitations. AWESOME.
Oh, and for anyone who goes to SPU we NEED a Take Back the Night event because it's way to ignored...like really bad and I wish I was there because I would so start one (cough Sophia members cough...)
Oh, and for anyone who goes to SPU we NEED a Take Back the Night event because it's way to ignored...like really bad and I wish I was there because I would so start one (cough Sophia members cough...)
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Dear future man I go on a date with next:
Look. I don't consider myself to be incredibly high maintenance. I really don't. In fact, were I to describe my personality, the words, "chill," "laid back," "amicable," "easy going" and "generally all around not hard to get along with" come to mind as far as my overall demeanor is concerned. However, I will warn you, that should you take me out some day on a date, these are the things to do/not do:
1. Whenst the topic of children comes up (not as in you and I having kids, that's REALLY weird, I mean just in general the conversation may have gone there), you should NOT say, "Yeah, women should stay at home and cook and stuff. It's just what they do." Can we say WORST person EVER to say that statement to? This will cause me to think, "Is he joking? Oh. I guess not...uhhhh" and then I have to explain to you the social implications of your comment.
2. You should NOT talk to me repeatedly throughout the date about how pot should totally be legalized and how when people are selling drugs on street corners that they're just doing service to society. This wouldn't bother me so much if it wasn't coupled with the fact that you seem to have smoked a lot of pot yourself.
3. You should not talk about all the "lazy people without jobs." Then I just have to sit there and stare at you with my jaw hanging open. WE ARE IN A RECESSION.
4. Clean up the language! I mean, come on, I'm not saying that my mouth is super clean all the time, but on a first date, it just seems to be in good taste.
5. You SHOULD know what certain vocabulary words like "cathartic" or "philanthropy" mean. You should not keep saying you disagree with me on a subject, and then start talking about something that is nowhere near what I was talking about.
6. Ask me questions about myself! I am very interesting! You might be too, hence why I keep asking YOU questions...it's nice to have it reciprocated!
The bottom line: I should never leave a date thinking "This would make a really good blog post because this is so ridiculous." Not to scare anyone off...but these things don't seem all that challenging or like I'm asking too much here--am I wrong?
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
As you may or may not have seen via my facebook status, my beloved Detective Stabler is leaving Law and Order: SVU after this season. One of my RA's and I spent some quality time googling this to verify the rumor (a whole 5 minutes), praying that it wasn't true, but indeed confirmed this as fact. As you should full well know by now, Law and Order: SVU is my 2010 obsession, and there is no better night of the week then Wednesday night at 9 PM Eastern Standard Time. Granted Chris, you've given me 12 solid years, but this does not ease my pain. Think of Benson! What is she going to do without you? You are the chocolate to her chip! The pudding in her pie! You're her Finn and she is your Rachel Barry! The Bon to her Jovi! Oh, it hurts! Apparently, Mariska burst into tears when he told her that he would be done after this season, and if there is one thing I do not like, it is to think about Mariska Hargitay being upset. Tonight you are on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon and I WILL be staying up to watch you so I can soak in all my Christopher Meloni time and prove to you my dedication. Sigh. All good things must come to an end I suppose, and I should be looking at the bright side that Mariska isn't leaving because I would definitely be curled up in the fetal position eating a pint of Ben and Jerry's and letting the tears roll down my face. But I will persevere, but let's be clear: that show will not be the same without you and your uncontrolled rage and need of anger management counseling and your intimidating of suspects and pervs. The dedicated detectives of New York City will just not be the same without you.
This happened a long time ago, but I need to record it, as it is quite humorous (maybe just to me) and I want to remember this particular story. I was reminded of the story today, and decided I should blog about it for kicks (and because I have nothing to do at this particular moment except for thinking about making decisions that I want to avoid that so...yeah).
So awhile ago one of my RA's convinced me to donate some blood because the Red Cross was visiting campus. I found out I could save three lives! That is awesome, so yes, I will give my blood. I don't have a high fear of needles, which I feel often deters people from donating, and I'd been eating a lot of spinach and drinking a lot of milk lately, so I knew I would have a high iron count--also in my favor. So, there I am lying, squeezing that little ball and pumping out my blood. The man taking it told me I was "a really good bleeder"--I think this is because I drink a lot of water. This greatly appeased me as I like to excel/overachieve at just about anything. Feeling good that I'd saved 3 lives, I grabbed my complimentary juice box and was on my way...
Only to receive a letter a week later saying that I had "abnormal blood results." With no explanation about what this means in the letter. WHAT THE FRICK DOES THAT MEAN!? Now, if you receive such an open ended letter, what thoughts would race through YOUR head? Leukemia? HIV (which would be virtually impossible for me to have)? Some sort of weird disease?! Ahhh!!!! "Call your blood counselor" (and who knew you could even go into that profession?). Ummm yes Blood Counselor I am calling you RIGHT NOW. Oh, and you do not answer me. Until the next day. I'm sorry, but if you are going to tell someone they have abnormal blood results, you should PROBABLY pick up the phone, as that is fairly unsettling news to receive. So, the next day Mr. Blood Counselor calls me. He says I have a "false positive" for a "rare South American parasite."
"Have you ever lived in a rural area in South America ma'am? Like in a dirt cave or hut?"
"Yeah I figured as much--it's pretty rare. Basically you don't really have this parasite, but the test said you did. So the first time they tested it it came out positive, and the second time it came out negative. Most people are pretty aware they have this particular parasite, as it is a large giant bug that bites you and dwells in dirt caves." Lovely.
"So, can I ever donate to the American Red Cross ever again and save 3 lives?"
"Unfortunately not ma'am."
"Even though I don't have a disease that I would know if I had it. You have got to be kidding me."
"No ma'am." At this point he proceeded to use some sort of analogy about airport security and low thresholds and blah blah blah. You are not making me feel better Blood Counselor. I stopped listening at this point, as I was seething, because dammit I like doing good in the world, and giving blood is an easy way to start. And I do NOT like being rejected! And I wanted some of my blood pumping through the veins of other people so I can live on since I may or may not have children, but I am a waste of a "good bleeder" with a high iron count. Your loss American Red Cross!!! Your loss!!
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Today is Easter. Which is awesome. In general, I do not take enough time in my life to slow down and reflect. This is due to a) my procrastination so I always wait to have a ton of things to do b) general apathy and laziness and c) simply not slowing down--which seems to be fairly typical of a lot of people I know. So anyways, today I was sitting there in church thinking about all that is going on in my life--decisions that I need to make, things I need to do, yadda yadda yadda. I'd like to tell you that I didn't do any work today, or that I stopped thinking about the things I had to do to focus on what Jesus did today, but that wouldn't be wholly truthful. Which is a travesty and is my loss, but God still speaks through my selfishness anyways, thank goodness. Anyways, today as I was sitting there thinking in church, the pastor was talking about the beauty of the resurrection--how if we'd made it all up we would have chosen the "big star men" (aka Peter, John and James) to carry the message that Jesus was risen. But yet, God chose the women--who back in the day were NOTHING to anyone to carry the most important message of the whole world. This is why I love Jesus--because he pulls stuff like this ALL THE TIME (he's such a rebel!). I've been reading Velvet Elvis, as I've previously mentioned, and Rob Bell talks about how the disciples were the losers, the second class/lower class citizens who weren't worthy to be rabbis. Only the top notch scholars of the day were deemed worthy to become Rabbis--everyone else had to do trade stuff like be fisherpeople--yet these were the people that Jesus chose to follow Him. And again, I love this about Jesus. I feel like I always would say that I believed that Jesus picked the losers--but if you really think about what that means for us today, things really haven't changed. Women still aren't believed--or they're "too emotional" or whatever. The poor are downtrodden. Racism still abounds (believe it or not--data supports it). We treat people everyday as less then because of these pre conceived notions we have--yet these are the people that Jesus entrusted his entire message with. And that really makes my heart burst with joy. I mean really? The God of the universe would entrust those that the world hates the most with the grandest, most hugely world-altering message of all time? The ones that don't have all their ish together? I mean, if I were to pick someone to represent me, I'd pick someone really prestigious, like Mariska Hargitay, or Ellen DeGeneres or someone who is hilarious and/or has a lot of social prestige and is going to make me look REALLY good and smart and fantastic if I'm being really honest with you--I wouldn't go pick just anyone off the street. But no. This is not how God does things. And this the type of God I can believe in.
This afternoon I went over to my pastor's house for Easter Dinner with his family, which proved to be extremely delightful and it was nice feeling included in a family again. Anywho, I was sitting and talking with two high school girls and I'm not quite sure how we even got on the subject, but one of them said, "Did you know that if you are taller you make more money?" The other said, "Yeah, and you make more if you're more attractive too!" I of course leapt at the chance to share fun facts (well, fun for me) and in general educate others and said, "Yes, and you also make more money if you are White and male. So, if you're a good looking tall White male you're going to be rolling in the dough." At this point, the little 5-year-old boy started singing this tune: "Good looking tall White male, la la la." Yup, he did it. And I ate it up. Prospective sociology student?
As far as Sociology goes, I had another thought today. This is not necessarily related to the above paragraph, but it seems unnecessary to begin a completely new blog post, and I tend to be a bit lazy on Sundays. Anyways, I decided today that I hope we never go back to a bartering system. Why? Well, as many of my friends move on in their new careers, they are developing very tangible service skills that would work really well in a bartering system. Case in point: 2 friends are in cosmotology school. 2 more friends do event planning. Rob's a graphic designer. Here's the problem: if we were on a bartering system I do not really have any tradeable skills. They could say, "Hey Jess, I will trade you a free haircut for some fun facts and interesting case studies!!!" Or maybe, "I'll plan this event for you or make some cool centerpieces, and you can teach me about gender!!!" I might say to Rob, "Hey if you design this t-shirt for me, I'll give you my paper to read on Bon Jovi and masculinity!" This will never happen. However, I am still hopeful because I know that my education and skill set will change and inform the minds of the future sociology students of America! And then they will be compelled to volunteer and change the world through the elements of legislature, their government and social structure! Yay!
Now, I apologize in advance if you really like this book. But I just really am not that into it. I'm ashamed that I have actually flipped through this nonsense. Ugh. This probably seems random that I'm talking about this book--but as any good sociologist knows, nothing is really ever truly random. This book is about how guys don't act interested when they're not--they won't call you or text you, basically they won't go out of their way to show you any sort of special attention or if they are into it, they'll go above and beyond to impress you, whatever (WHICH I will add just messes things up in the future but that's a WHOLE other story and I won't get into it). Why I HATE this book is because it implies that women can't get it through their pea-sized brains that the guy isn't interested, so we need someone to spell it out for us. Mmhmm. It also implies that by default if men act this way, then women don't (because men and women are just "so opposite")--untrue. Guess what: women do the exact same thing. I would argue MORE so because women tend to be less direct then men because they are socialized to be people pleasers--so I would theorize they'd take a whole lot longer of subtle hinting until some guy figured out they just aren't into them. This only comes up because let me tell you, when I'm into someone I definitely pay attention to them, text back, call, whatever. This has been proven over and over again in my life time. But hey guy from the restaurant--when you have texted me a bajillion times and I don't text back--I'M JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU. This book does not apply solely to men, and I think the author should definitely think about changing the title to "He/She is just not that into You." I'm just sayin. I'm not saying that this book is untrue, I'm just saying that it applies to BOTH genders.
I hope that visions of Gene Kelly and Frank Sinatra gleefully dancing through the streets of New York in snazzy sailor's uniforms jumped into your head after you read the title of this post--that's what I'm thinking of right now at least. Check it out if you haven't seen this diddy: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x7CIgWZTdgw&feature=related Mmm. Wish I woulda picked me up a sailor. Especially a tap dancing one.
Anyways, today I embarked on a one day adventure to the little town of NYC. Right now, my legs are burning from the miles upon miles that we walked. Up through Central Park. Through the Metropolitan Museum of Art. To the Museum of Natural History (only to discover that we wouldn't be able to actually go in, as Tai was carrying her knife for protection because frick, we watch Law and Order: SVU and you never know who you are going to run into in Central Park--and she's from the South side of Chicago for heaven's sake!--anyways there were large metal detectors. Not looking for trouble, we quickly evaded what could have been some risky business). Up to Applebee's in Times Square. Over to NBC studios. BACK up to Times Square. You get the picture.
We had some fun adventures though to be sure, at the expense of our bodies. Central Park was lovely, and people were out walking their particularly plump bulldogs. I got to see the Met for the first time--which was AWESOME (I illegally snapped some pictures...soon to come). I got to see a Van Gogh original, Surat (I think that's how you spell it? The guy who made the pictures with all the dots)...and my personal favorite EDWARD HOPPER (if you'll remember from a previous blog post, I attempted to recreate one of his pictures). The Met was interesting for a variety of reasons though--I can certainly understand why some pieces were in there--pictures from the Renaissance=AMAZING. Monet--thumbs up. But why a yellow plastic chair that looks like it was purchased from IKEA? Why a canvas with some plain multi-colored squares on it? Or a purple vacuum? And yes, all 3 of these pieces had made it into the Met. I'm wondering what it takes to get something in there, because I have a few items lying around my apartment that just might do. The other interesting thing about the Met is that upon admission I presented my student ID card and according to the sign it said I should pay $10. However, the woman at the counter said, "Okay, the suggested donation is $10. It's whatever you want to pay." So let me get this straight. I can basically pay you whatever I want. Because let me tell you, as a person who is not exactly "rolling in the Benjamins" what I want to pay you is $0. Nothing. Nada. Or, you could pay me. Take your pick. What I will pay you and what you are socially pressuring me to pay you are different from what I want to pay you. I'm a capitalist. This means I want the most for the least--the most bang for my buck if you will--which would be viewing the entire Metropolitan Museum of Art for FREE. But alas, my social conscience got the best of me, I submitted to conformity and begrudgingly handed over my $10 knowing it would probably be used to purchase a red chair at IKEA to go with the yellow one they already had. Oh well.
Edward Hopper's Piece
The rest of the day went reasonably well minus the aches and pains that come from walking dozens upon dozens of city of blocks (by the way, did I mention that we walked a LOT?). I got to see NBC studios and we went and looked in the NBC store which made me want to buy a lot of crap that I didn't need including a giant "Central Perk" mug in honor of "Friends" and a t-shirt that says "I donated to the Human Fund" a la Seinfeld. Unfortunately we didn't see any celebrities which would have been awesome, though Tai said that she saw some B-list celeb walking through Central Park that is apparently on a TV show with Joan Rivers, hence why I'd never seen or heard of him and hence why he could walk through Central Park without being mobbed. My only regret: I didn't get to see Detectives Stabler and Benson solving any crimes in Central Park which would have been AWESOME and I would have told Mariska how much I adore her. Oh well, maybe next time.
Outside NBC Studios (Obvi)
Friday, April 2, 2010
I really should begin keeping a log of possible dissertation topics. This blog seems to be a good place to start. Possible topic? The culture of wheelchair gangs. This evening two friends and I went out to paint the town red as we tend to do, and low and behold we hit the Holy Thursday Wheelchair Gang. That wasn't their official gang name, but it was Holy Thursday when we went out, and there were SEVERAL men in wheelchairs at the bar that we were residing in--thus I have deemed them the Holy Thursday Wheelchair Gang. As we sat there and observed, we noticed these men were getting their GAME on. I mean, I don't know that I've ever seen so many make-out sessions in one haul. Now, as an interesting gender commentary I wondered aloud to my friend if it were a group of WOMEN in wheelchairs, would they be paid the same courtesy--lots of hugs and kisses? It was hard for me to imagine that they would be paid much attention. I'm not sure if this is true--I'm merely speculating. Needless to say, it was an interesting night.
By the way, I'm not sure if this particular blog is very "PC"...I'm merely observing what I saw.