**This post may be considered off-color by some readers**
Urinals are amazing. It's crudely simple, but true. I can only hope the creator of the urinal had some sort of a patent on it (though my guess is it was God, with the tree). Based on the anatomical make up of males, the urinal is overwhelmingly ergonomic.
I can get passed the awkward situations created at times by "urinal etiquette," occasionally resigning myself to take a stall (but I am not above making others uncomfortable to avoid the stall). I am willing to put up with the unnecessarily obnoxious all-the-way-to-the-floor urinals (they tend to splatter). In truth, there is only one thing that really bothers me when it comes to the men's-room-line-killer.
Those freaky-deaky, super short urinals that can be easily used by NO ONE. (For those readerettes who do not know of these unpleasant contraptions, I would compare them to walking into a stall in hopes of a toilet - merely to find a Fisher-Price Laugh and Learn toilet).
These nuisances are, I can only assume, intended for young boys - well, they can just use a stall like they learned to do at their house (unless they have a urinal at their home, in which case I can't figure out why they would ever want to leave). There has been at time I attempted to use a mini-pee, but was so afraid I would actually relieve myself on-top of the contraption - I couldn't go.
All that to say, today my life changed.
Today I went into the restroom, post job interview (which is probably the subject I should be covering right now). I was astonished. Along the urinal wall (no dividers, just FYI) there were three sizes of urinal. Daddy Bear, Baby Bear...and Perfectly-normal-why-the-heck-do-you-need-another-size Bear. Considering my grand stature (6'5") I opted for the Daddy Bear.
It was too tall.
I was up on my toes, laughing out loud, when another gentleman entered the restroom. I saw him notice me and chuckle to himself. I could basically read his thoughts: "I don't know why they even have that thing in here, there is no need to mess with something as crudely simple as a urinal."
Amen, man. Amen.
9.28.2007
9.21.2007
A little language lesson
Q: What tyrannical trait do my father and favorite public relations professor have in common?
A: The ability to (often unknowingly) make one feel fleaish while correcting language limitations (read: flaws).
It is not an altogether undesirable trait, and it certainly keeps you on your linguistic toes while discussing communications strategies...and taking out the trash. I even like to believe a bit of the Syntax Gestapo gene has been passed on to me. I can quickly recognize error in speech, whether or not I can correct it.
Unlike my corrective counterparts - I am not very concerned with the poor grammar that grips our country like a unquenchable flame. I am more worried about the people who don't sound cool when they talk.
As I (hopefully) enter the world of mass communications, I am prepared to take on the challenge of speech alteration for the better of bored listeners around the globe (at least where English is spoken, I can't do much for the other guys). Part of this process is eradicating the "business bro" terminology. So, here is my statement:
As a future communications leader of the world (yep, the world) I hereby dedicate myself to the removal of the following language from my vocabulary and the vocabulary of those within my sphere of influence.
1. Drop me a line. (This means get in contact with me)
2. Give me a holler. (This is normally used for the phone)
3. (and this is the worst) Shoot me an email.
In addition to said terminology, I will refrain from any phrasing I deem unfavorable in the future.
Any others?
***these were submitted by a new friend via email***
1. You're good to go
2. ..take it to the next level
3. my bad
4. BFF
5. snail mail (which is a derogatory comment about our nation's postal service)
6. anything with "a-cino" at the end.
A: The ability to (often unknowingly) make one feel fleaish while correcting language limitations (read: flaws).
It is not an altogether undesirable trait, and it certainly keeps you on your linguistic toes while discussing communications strategies...and taking out the trash. I even like to believe a bit of the Syntax Gestapo gene has been passed on to me. I can quickly recognize error in speech, whether or not I can correct it.
Unlike my corrective counterparts - I am not very concerned with the poor grammar that grips our country like a unquenchable flame. I am more worried about the people who don't sound cool when they talk.
As I (hopefully) enter the world of mass communications, I am prepared to take on the challenge of speech alteration for the better of bored listeners around the globe (at least where English is spoken, I can't do much for the other guys). Part of this process is eradicating the "business bro" terminology. So, here is my statement:
As a future communications leader of the world (yep, the world) I hereby dedicate myself to the removal of the following language from my vocabulary and the vocabulary of those within my sphere of influence.
1. Drop me a line. (This means get in contact with me)
2. Give me a holler. (This is normally used for the phone)
3. (and this is the worst) Shoot me an email.
In addition to said terminology, I will refrain from any phrasing I deem unfavorable in the future.
Any others?
***these were submitted by a new friend via email***
1. You're good to go
2. ..take it to the next level
3. my bad
4. BFF
5. snail mail (which is a derogatory comment about our nation's postal service)
6. anything with "a-cino" at the end.
9.17.2007
Fasting, in the name of employment
Just one block from my loft is a quaint, yet classy pedestrian walkway jam-packed with restaurants, salons, boutiques and my new favorite video store (coincidentally, the video store guy and I are becoming quite the pals; I have named him Kevin).
To me, there are two real stand-outs in the Liberties Walk (you know you are in Philadelphia when...): The video store, a super-hip collection of "The"+1-word titles (The Crush, The Paper, The Lover, The Cannon) and films picked solely for their obscurity (I won't try and mention any of these, because I have never heard of any of them). The other is the candy shop(pe). Yes, an honest to goodness candy store with everything from ice cream and rock candy to truffles and chili-pepper chocolate.
One thing people should know about me, I love candy. I am a sucker (npi) for sweets. Cookies, brownies, cakes, ice cream, hard candy, chewy delights, simple sugars, pies, hydrogenated fats, over-processed glucose of many kinds...I love it. It is truly my weakness.
As a display of dedication to the job hunt, I am refraining from entering the store until I have found permanent employment. It may be the hardest thing I have ever done...and I did a 3-day solo trek in the mountains of Utah carrying nothing but a knife and an empty saucepan.
*I also have a bottle of 1999 Veremonte Cab Sav that I am not opening until I get a job - but after typing this I really just want candy...
To me, there are two real stand-outs in the Liberties Walk (you know you are in Philadelphia when...): The video store, a super-hip collection of "The"+1-word titles (The Crush, The Paper, The Lover, The Cannon) and films picked solely for their obscurity (I won't try and mention any of these, because I have never heard of any of them). The other is the candy shop(pe). Yes, an honest to goodness candy store with everything from ice cream and rock candy to truffles and chili-pepper chocolate.
One thing people should know about me, I love candy. I am a sucker (npi) for sweets. Cookies, brownies, cakes, ice cream, hard candy, chewy delights, simple sugars, pies, hydrogenated fats, over-processed glucose of many kinds...I love it. It is truly my weakness.
As a display of dedication to the job hunt, I am refraining from entering the store until I have found permanent employment. It may be the hardest thing I have ever done...and I did a 3-day solo trek in the mountains of Utah carrying nothing but a knife and an empty saucepan.
*I also have a bottle of 1999 Veremonte Cab Sav that I am not opening until I get a job - but after typing this I really just want candy...
9.11.2007
Obligatory goosebumps
We had a very specific morning routine.
I would wake up and put on the coffee he had prepped the night before. I would shower while he watched the news. He would often shout up to me the interesting things that were already happening in our world - it is always strange to realize how much goes on before I am even awake.
"You're not gonna believe this," he called up the stairs. "Some f***-up ran a plane into one of the towers in New York."
"Which tower?" I asked, assuming he meant a Cessna had clipped a radio antenna atop the Rockefeller.
"One of the world trade towers - man, good morning America."
Honestly, we thought it was funny. Sad that so many people were obviously dead or injured - but really, what kind of pilot ran into buildings.
So, we finished our morning routine.
He showered while I brushed my teeth and dressed. I turned off the TV and finished homework while he dressed and together we walked to chapel.
On the way from our apartment to campus we typically encountered two other pairs of roommates. A married couple from across the street, and two girls from the end of the road. None of them knew about the plane crash - typical.
Chapel was silent. People were solemn and, despite my arrival with five other people, I immediately felt alone in the huge room. The giant American flag, the one reserved for American Studies speakers and patriotic programs, had replaced the regular curtain.
Another plane, another building - this wasn't a screw up.
6 years later...it feels obligatory to get goose-bumps at least once during the day. Whether it is for the thousands of people who died, or the remarkable bravery shown over the next year during the site excavation...I just can't help it.
I would wake up and put on the coffee he had prepped the night before. I would shower while he watched the news. He would often shout up to me the interesting things that were already happening in our world - it is always strange to realize how much goes on before I am even awake.
"You're not gonna believe this," he called up the stairs. "Some f***-up ran a plane into one of the towers in New York."
"Which tower?" I asked, assuming he meant a Cessna had clipped a radio antenna atop the Rockefeller.
"One of the world trade towers - man, good morning America."
Honestly, we thought it was funny. Sad that so many people were obviously dead or injured - but really, what kind of pilot ran into buildings.
So, we finished our morning routine.
He showered while I brushed my teeth and dressed. I turned off the TV and finished homework while he dressed and together we walked to chapel.
On the way from our apartment to campus we typically encountered two other pairs of roommates. A married couple from across the street, and two girls from the end of the road. None of them knew about the plane crash - typical.
Chapel was silent. People were solemn and, despite my arrival with five other people, I immediately felt alone in the huge room. The giant American flag, the one reserved for American Studies speakers and patriotic programs, had replaced the regular curtain.
Another plane, another building - this wasn't a screw up.
6 years later...it feels obligatory to get goose-bumps at least once during the day. Whether it is for the thousands of people who died, or the remarkable bravery shown over the next year during the site excavation...I just can't help it.
9.10.2007
A good night's sleep
For the past several nights I have had several things to impede my sleeping habits. My mind keeps waking me up in the outrageously early morning hours, and not allowing me to sleep peacefully for several more hours.
Saturday night/Sunday morning I woke up (4:53) to discover a complete inability to process thoughts in a logical manner. Random names, silly words and extreme aspects of facial features (big noses, random warts, overhanging brows) kept jumping into my brain with no warning - and certainly no explanation. I contemplated David/squishy/flat nose for quite a while. Finally I resorted to telling myself a story - forcing myself to think sequentially.
This morning it was all about organization. I made some very solid personal statements correlating my emotional wellbeing with the organization of my surroundings...and the organization of my surroundings with the amount of things I own. This in itself is not completely insane - but then I started listing the things I owned, and trying to figure out how to get rid of them.
It started at the front door, I owned the front door and it had to stay. Then the shoe pile next to the front door, I had to keep the shoes - but the pile had to go. Things got very confusing when I was self-explaining how I partially own my roommates - after all, I have time and energy invested in them. I knew practically they both needed to stay (if for no other reason than economy), but I also know it is wrong to own another person. As I lulled myself back to sleep I was determined to stop spending time with my friends, it was the right thing to do.
Aside from a stellar duet with Pavarotti (RIP) the rest of my slumber was uneventful.
This is a sure sign that I need something to occupy my mind.
Saturday night/Sunday morning I woke up (4:53) to discover a complete inability to process thoughts in a logical manner. Random names, silly words and extreme aspects of facial features (big noses, random warts, overhanging brows) kept jumping into my brain with no warning - and certainly no explanation. I contemplated David/squishy/flat nose for quite a while. Finally I resorted to telling myself a story - forcing myself to think sequentially.
This morning it was all about organization. I made some very solid personal statements correlating my emotional wellbeing with the organization of my surroundings...and the organization of my surroundings with the amount of things I own. This in itself is not completely insane - but then I started listing the things I owned, and trying to figure out how to get rid of them.
It started at the front door, I owned the front door and it had to stay. Then the shoe pile next to the front door, I had to keep the shoes - but the pile had to go. Things got very confusing when I was self-explaining how I partially own my roommates - after all, I have time and energy invested in them. I knew practically they both needed to stay (if for no other reason than economy), but I also know it is wrong to own another person. As I lulled myself back to sleep I was determined to stop spending time with my friends, it was the right thing to do.
Aside from a stellar duet with Pavarotti (RIP) the rest of my slumber was uneventful.
This is a sure sign that I need something to occupy my mind.
9.06.2007
Spring forward
Over the course of my life I have always considered myself to have a few "fall-backs." Some options in case I find the course of my life going in an unforeseen direction. These choices include, but are not limited to: law school, authoring a book, writing a screenplay, international au pair, housekeeping, and my personal favorite... going insane.
Law school is still an option. The LSAT is out of the way...but could I really handle 3 more years of school? I will wait out my roommate's attempts at post-graduate work, see if I can get a feel for their views.
Authoring a book/screenplay are both very appealing. I have always thought if I simply had the time to sit and write I could easily whip one out...more than likely a Great American Novel. However, this past month has been nothing but - and I have done nothing of...
International au pair is out of the question until this lease is up.
Housekeeping, I think, is mostly just because I have a secret desire to harmonize with myself on "Sing Sweet Nightingale" as the bubbles reflect my elbow-greasery.
Honestly, that last-listed sounds the most appealing most of the time. It seems as if there is a certain freedom in allowing your mind to rid itself of the constraints we put on ourselves from day to day.
But for now, I will persevere. I had a follow-up phone-interview that went very well... How does one go about proving themselves the best thing to ever happen to a company?
Law school is still an option. The LSAT is out of the way...but could I really handle 3 more years of school? I will wait out my roommate's attempts at post-graduate work, see if I can get a feel for their views.
Authoring a book/screenplay are both very appealing. I have always thought if I simply had the time to sit and write I could easily whip one out...more than likely a Great American Novel. However, this past month has been nothing but - and I have done nothing of...
International au pair is out of the question until this lease is up.
Housekeeping, I think, is mostly just because I have a secret desire to harmonize with myself on "Sing Sweet Nightingale" as the bubbles reflect my elbow-greasery.
Honestly, that last-listed sounds the most appealing most of the time. It seems as if there is a certain freedom in allowing your mind to rid itself of the constraints we put on ourselves from day to day.
But for now, I will persevere. I had a follow-up phone-interview that went very well... How does one go about proving themselves the best thing to ever happen to a company?
9.03.2007
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
