Manners

I just read an article about a guy in Arkansas who hired his friend to “attack” him with a knife – all to impress his date.

REALLY?!  Really?  What happened to just being nice?  Or actually listening when you ask a question?  Or holding the door open and letting her enter or exit a room before you do?  Or holding up your end of a conversation?  Or paying attention to her when you’re together instead of getting distracted by your phone? 

Sigh.  I don’t get it.

Is there no one left out there teaching chivalry and kindness?  Do we really believe the only way to impress a girl, is to have a friend to come pretend to stab you so you can show off how brave and manly you are as you fight them  off?  (Poorly, I might add as he still got cut a few times.)  

Getting on and off the subway is a perfect example.  If I am waiting on the platform to get on the train, and stand back to let the passengers get off the train before I try to board – which, assholes, is what you’re supposed to do – people will shove me out of the way to get on the train.  Really?  Is it really that important that you get that seat?  Or the times people will look right at a pregnant woman or elderly person standing, and not offer them their seat.  Why must we all be so selfish?

Though, there was one time last summer when I was in a seat by the door and a man who looked to be in his seventies got on the train with his bags and cane.  I got up and said, “sir, would you like to sit down?” and he immediately started to verbally attack me for assuming he was a cripple.  “Do I look like a fucking cripple to you?!”  “Did I ask you to stand up?!” “Fuck you.”  30 seconds into his rant, I said, still standing and slack-jawed “so…  you don’t want to sit?”, and sat back down.   He stood over me yelling for the rest of my trip.  I hate confrontation. HATE. It.  So with this old man yelling at me, I started to cry.  Which I hated even more. 

So, to this man who got stabbed to impress a girl, (who I just read was unsurprisingly NOT impressed by his antics) I offer you some advice.  Get a grip and learn some manners.  Ladies don’t like getting blood on their clothes.

Vampire in Times Square

You know that kid from the Sixth Sense movie, who sees people that no one else can see?  Sometimes, walking around New York City, I feel like I’m that kid.   I don’t know why it happens, or when, but living in this city somehow dulls our senses to notice anything out of the ordinary, or at least acknowledge that anything special is happening right in front of us.  When I flew back to the city after Christmas, Katie Holmes and Suri Cruise were on my plane.  Now, I understand they’re just people, and don’t want to be pestered, but not one other person on the entire flight seemed to care or notice.  And I’m not even a fan of Katie Holmes, but seriously??  I couldn’t even find one person to make eye contact with about it.  Suri was just eating her animal crackers in the front row of first class, and staring people down as we lowly economy seated people boarded – daring us to acknowledge her.  And every single passenger lost that staring contest.  Lost to a six year old. 

This morning I was walking in Times Square and this guy – who was well over six feet tall seemed to glide right past me – dodging the hundreds of pedestrians and cars and moving like butter through the streets.  He was wearing a full-length black canvas trench coat with silver studs, had long dyed hair with blonde roots and tall Doc Martin style boots.  He had questionable facial hair – someday soon I assume he wants it to be a goatee, but today – not so much. Oh, and dark eye liner – lots of it.   What was fascinating to me about this guy – not that he was dressed like that at 6:45am on a Wednesday, or that he wasn’t obviously coming home from the club or a bar – but that no one else seemed to even notice him.  I think that’s amazing.  We are so focused on our own shit that these incredibly interesting people can swim right around us in a sea of ordinary, and in New York City we condition ourselves to not even notice. 

Maybe it’s my mid-western roots.  Maybe I grew up sheltered and boring.  And, there’s no maybe about the fact that I couldn’t be whiter.  But, in my 2013 quest to find reasons to like living in this cesspool of anger and frustration and noise, I think that its people like this vampire man that make this place unique.  Rushing to get somewhere – perhaps out of the sun to lie in a windowless room – perhaps he’s heading back into or out of the matrix, or perhaps he’s going to work at Toys R Us – but this guy made me smile and no one else even noticed him seamlessly bobbing and weaving through the ordinary dregs walking to work. 

Embarrassed

I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I watch The Bachelor.  I don't know why - these people seem so vapid and empty, and yet, part of me is jealous of them.  Why can't I be so idiotic to believe that you can in fact fall in love - like the forever and ever love - in a month.  Oh yeah, also with cameras in your face the whole time, all the while competing for said love with two dozen other people.... I mean, that is totally reasonable, right?

Tonight is the finale - and there's a "live" studio audience watching it in LA - and I'm judging them.  I am sitting on the floor of my living room in my pajamas (and by pajamas I mean yoga pants and an old t-shirt - keep in mind I have never done yoga in my entire life) and I am judging them.  Those women who got all gussied up and are sitting in that studio with Chris Whateverhislastnameis and watching this last episode - I am judging them.  How is that fair?  I'm doing the exact same thing.  The only difference is that I am lying about my bizarre fascination with this trash.  I always want to believe that I'd be the kind of person to own whatever lifestyle choices I make - but this one?  I keep hidden.

Oh my god - now they're doing a "check-in" with the audience.... are you f-ing kidding me?  And now someone just made a comment about how Catherine is "26, and has been waiting for this her whole life.... she's totally ready for this".  wtf?  Why am I angry at these people for thinking 26 is on the path to Old-Maiden-Ship?  Sigh... 26 is not old you ass holes.

Almost birthday.

Two days ago was my "two months away from turning 32" day.  For the record, as a typo I typed 21, instead of 32 and it made me want to cry a little bit.  Not that I'd got back and be 21 again - Jesus, what a mess that would be, but still.  I'm nearly 32 and I feel like I have nothing to show for myself. 

To be fair I have a great life, I know this.   I live and work in New York City (though, my apartment is in Queens - not Manhattan, so don't go getting any fancy ideas about my lifestyle), I have a day job that pays me enough that I'm able to pay all my bills and put approximately 25 cents a month into my savings account, I'm healthy, have an amazing family and a wonderful group of friends - but somehow, it still feels like something is missing. 

I used to have a gold fish.  Her name was Darlene, she lived for 4 years and three months.  When I moved to Orlando from Chicago I bought a fish travel case (yes, those actually exist) and she made the drive down with me and died two months later.  She clearly hated living in Florida.  

I have a house-plant that's nearly eleven years old.  One of my best friend's mother's gave it to me as a graduation present from college, and while I've nearly killed it several times, it's still hanging in there.  Green thumb I do not have, but this plant (whose name is Will by the way - don't ask why) just won't die.  

I am the proud owner of two full sets of bagpipes.  It's on my to-do list for 2013 to start practicing both again.  The issues there are obvious - where does one practice the bagpipes?  Even if you're incredibly gifted, it isn't really an instrument people run toward - more like flee from as quickly as possible... isn't that a joke somewhere?  A guy is in prison and his mother comes to visit and asks how he's doing, what his cell-mate is like.... and he says "well, he's fine I suppose except for the fact he's always bashing his head against the wall" and the mother asks how he deals with that and the man says "oh, it's fine, I just keep playing my bagpipes"... Well, imagine that terror and then take any talent of skill out of the sound and then you'd have me. 

I also have a trombone.  I'm not sure what I hoped to gain as a 9 year old by selecting that as my instrument of choice but man, it is useless to me now.  Plus, I'm not very good at it.  But at least there are studios in Manhattan that you can rent out for practicing - which is a step in the right direction. 

Even with all of this - all my worldly nearly useless possessions, something is still amiss.