Offers for Extended Warranty

I'm no fool...I put my cell phone number on the "Do Not Call" list as soon as I found out about it. So why, I ask, do I get a phone call almost once a week offering me some extended warranty for my vehicle?

It's a recording of some woman's voice, and she tries to make it sound like it is specific to me. She says something about how time is running out to extend the warranty, and how I can activate it to protect the life of my vehicle, or some garbage like that. Interesting that time seems to be of the essence, since I've been getting the same message for MONTHS now. I wish the offer WOULD run out so they would stop calling me. They also try to get tricky and call from a different number every time. But I'm on to them. I never answer numbers that I don't recognize.

In addition to it being supremely irritating, it also sucks up my cell phone minutes. I waste at least a minute each time I have to go in and delete the voice mail. Since they call me several times a month, those jerkfaces owe me several minutes per month in cell phone minutes!

I'm wondering if ANYONE is actually foolish enough to buy into this garbage scam. I'm also wondering how they are able to call me so many times despite my number being on the "Do Not Call" list. If anyone has any advice on how to get this OBNOXIOUS scam to stop calling me, I'd love to hear it. Or let me know if it repeatedly happens to you...I'm thinking consumer class action? Anyone?

Bad Borrowers

Call me crazy, but isn't it true that if someone borrows something from you, then they are also obligated to return it to your possession? And I don't just mean they need to give it back because it doesn't belong to them. I mean they need to do the work to get it back to you.

Recently I have been noticing a trend that goes against this basic principle. A person will borrow something that belongs to me, but then expect me to come get it when they are done. Okay, so let me get this straight...I give you something that belongs to ME. You don't have to pay to use the item, you don't have to purchase your own item, and you get to enjoy the benefits of its use. If you don't return it, however, then not only do I gain nothing by letting you take my property, and I am deprived of its use while you have it, but I must now expend time and effort to get it back??? What the hell is that?

Example: a friend borrowed a cookbook from me. She has borrowed it multiple times. Why she has not gone out and bought her own copy, since she likes it so much, is beyond me. She doesn't just keep it until she's done with it. She keeps it until I ask for it back. When I need it, I have to drive all the way to her apt. to get it. Maybe next time she borrows it, I should just bend over for her. (Note: there will not be a next time. I have learned my lesson.)

If these are the rules of exchange (that you use my shit and then I have to go out of my way to get it back when you decide that you're done with it), then why on earth would we ever let anyone borrow anything?? It doesn't seem like there's much benefit to that bargain.

The rules should be: use it, return it promptly. If you need to keep it longer, you ask permission or at least apologize. If it is damaged in any way, you offer to pay for the damage or you replace it. And always always always, unless another agreement is reached, YOU return it. You don't expect the lendee to have to come get it. I thought these rules were well known, but apparently not.

My new policy is that if someone borrows my stuff and makes me go get it back, then that's the last thing they ever borrow from me. You've been warned!

Trader Joe's

Don't get me wrong...I LOVE Trader Joe's. I love Joe's food. I love his prices. I love his business model. But as with most relationships, my relationship with Joe is complicated. And we all know that the people you love can hurt you the most. Trader Joe is no exception. EVERY time I go to visit Joe, it is always an ORDEAL. It can never just be simple and easy. Joe is the quintissential stereotype of a frustrating male. Behold the overwhelming evidence:

1) It is impossible to find parking. Thankfully I live in walking distance now. But if I want to stop by on the way home from work, not really an option. Typical man...plays hard to get.

2) It is always PACKED. No exceptions. No matter what time of day, no matter what day of the week, it is packed. You can't get through the aisles, you can't get to the food, and forget about getting to the free samples. Typical man...not easily accessible.

3) Most, but not all, of the people who shop there are obnoxious. Most shoppers are pretentious, bourgie, judgmental, insert other upper-middle-class-Bay-Area stereotype here. I feel like I'm being judged every time I pick something off the shelf. I got some looks today when I picked up a 6-pack of soda (OMG...do you know how much SUGAR is in that? Yes, I do...that is why it is delicious.). I don't like to be judged based on what I put in my basket. Typical male...makes you feel self-conscious and judged, and you don't like his friends.

4) TJ's always runs out of my favorite items. At least a few things on my list are ALWAYS out of stock. Likely because they are highly popular...okay, then ORDER MORE. Keep those shelves stocked! He gets me hooked on these delicious items like chicken sausage calzone, or cornmeal crust pizza. Then he withholds them, leaving me unsatisfied and wanting more. Typical male...plays mind games and has poor planning skills.

5) You have to wait FOREVER to check out. This is also without exception. The lines are always looooong and the cashiers are often slow and sometimes borderline incompetent. Today the woman in front of me had $280 worth of groceries. She needed two carts. That is a LOT of groceries. There was no one to bag, and she didn't dare lift a finger. So I have to sit there while the cashier rings up $280 worth of groceries AND bags it all by himself. Then he stopped in the middle to tie a balloon around the woman's daughter's wrist. Um, sir...let the mom tie the balloon, you just keep doing your job. Then a bag ripped and instead of picking it up and putting the entire ripped bag into an unripped bag, he transferred each item, one by one, into a new bag. IT TOOK FOREVER. Meanwhile my blood pressure is going up and I'm about to lose it. Don't make me wait, Joe! Stop paying so much attention to other women! Typical male...makes you wait and makes you jealous.

Alright, so Joe has many qualities of a typical male that are extremely obnoxious. But he is also close by, can offer a wide variety of wonderful items, and provides much-needed sustenance. And even after the drama, you are left with bags full of deliciousness that last for days. Even as we speak, I am dipping my pita chips into Joe's hummus, enjoying every crunchy, hummus-y bite, and feeling a bit euphoric.

So in sum, maybe my relationship with Trader Joe is unhealthy and thrives on dramatic highs and lows. But at the end of the day, I'll take that drama if it gets me some hummus. I love you, Joe. I always will.

Bathroom Blabbers

Men like to tease women by telling us we all HAVE to go to the bathroom together. For me, this could not be farther from the truth. I suffer from a pretty intense case of stage fright. If someone is in the bathroom, I absolutely CANNOT go. I know I am not alone in this.

I hate when I walk into a bathroom and someone is in there. Multiple people is better, because there are so many noises in there that no one sits there and listens to you...you know, GO. But when it is just me and one other person, I sit there paralyzed. I am aware that they can hear everything I am doing. I freeze. I can't go. I try to do long division in my head (someone once told me that'll do it...sometimes it works). I count the tiles on the floor. I sit there and worry that the other person thinks I am having bathroom "issues" and that is why I am sitting silently in my stall. That fear just makes it worse. Usually I have to wait until they leave. It is very inconvenient.

But hey, usually it is some random stranger who only knows what my shoes look like, so who cares? Well it isn't always a stranger. Sometimes a friend or a coworker goes in there with you. That makes it ten thousand times worse. Because if they think you are having bathroom issues, then they will think it about it every time they see you for the rest of the day, maybe longer. Then it's REALLY impossible to go.

Alright, all that is bad enough. But then there are the people who TALK TO YOU WHILE YOU ARE GOING. Somehow these people are able to do their business through ANYTHING. How can you go to the bathroom while someone is chit-chatting with you??? I personally cannot. If I'm having a friendly conversation, nothin' else is happenin', you know what I mean?

The other day I was in a meeting with another attorney who I am somewhat intimidated by. Much to my dismay, when I got up to use the restroom, she decided she had to go, too. She talked to me about the law as we walked in, both sat in the stalls, while SHE went, and while I sat there frozen. I couldn't even think about actually using the bathroom until after she left. She stayed in there talking to me for a bit. I wanted to DIE. Eventually she left. I dread to imagine what she must have thought was going on in there. Damn you, stage fright.

Anyway, there are many places where it is appropriate to have a conversation, but the bathroom is not really one of them. Unless you are washing your hands, or applying lipstick in the mirror, or something along those lines, lay off the bathroom banter. I CAN'T GO IF YOU ARE TALKING TO ME. If I know someone well enough, I will tell them, "Hey, I don't mean to be rude, but I can't go if you're in here talking to me." But if I don't know someone that well, I have to sit there mortified about what they must be thinking while my "need to go" refuses to materialize. My rule: "if you're exposing bare butt, keep your mouth shut." Easy to remember. So lock those lips in the lavatory people. I don't need the stress!

Catalogs, Catalogs, Catalogs

It's 2009. I know that some people are still disputing the existence of global warming, but does ANYONE dispute the contention that we need to conserve trees? Gone are the days where we use paper with abandonment. There are recycling bins next to nearly every trash can in every office across America. We recycle paper in our homes (hopefully). We sign up for paperless billing, and email or scan documents when we don't need hard copies. So WHY, in this age of conservation and recycling, do I still get SO MANY DAMN CATALOGS IN THE MAIL???

They are like viruses. You usually get one from buying something from the company. And you get it every month. Then somehow you get catalogs from companies somewhat similar to the company from which you bought something. Sometimes I will get not one, but TWO catalogs from the EXACT same company each month. Same name, same address...but two copies. You get copies of catalogs from people who once lived there but moved long ago. And once you get them once, you get them FOREVER.

Rarely rarely rarely do I enjoy receiving a catalog. If I want to shop, I'll go to the store or go online. And yet the catalogs keep comin'. It's especially annoying because a lot of the time I get catalog from a gift I bought for someone. It wasn't for ME. I don't like the crap your company sells! Stop sending me catalogs for Christian books! That ONE book I bought 4 years ago was for my mother, not me! I don't want to even look at your junk, nevermind BUY it. It feels like I'm being punished. I gave your company my money! I stimulated the economy! So stop punishing me by inundating me with useless refuse!

Today my mail box was crammed full of those circulars from the local grocery store and drug store. My real mail didn't even fit in there. AND I got circulars a few days ago from the same places. How many circulars does one person need? I don't even read them! My recycling bin is full of catalogs and circulars that I don't give a crap about. So much wasted paper. So many wasted trees.

I propose criminal sanctions for catalog abuse. Assault by catalog! Don't send us catalogs unless we ask for them! Or email us instead! Or make it really easy to get unsubscribed from your dumb catalog mailing list. Like the "Do Not Call" list. Is there a "Do Not Mail" list somewhere?

So Crate and Barrel, J.Crew, Pottery Barn, and anything related to Christian books...please leave me, my mail box, and my recycling bin alone. We just want to be environmentally responsible, and you're ruining it. You and your dumb glossy pages...

P.S. I apologize for all of the exclamation points. Catalogs just make me really, really angry.

Ridiculous Baby Names

What do Hermes, the Greek messenger god, Bronx, the New York City burrough, and Kal-el, Superman's birth name, all have in common? They are all names that jackass celebrities imposed on their poor, defenseless babies. (Names chosen by Kelly Rutherford, Ashlee Simpson/Pete Wentz, and Nicholas Cage, respectively).

What is it with celebrities? Who do they think they are? "Oh, I'm famous so I can name my kid after an adverb." (Milla Jovovich's child: Ever.) "I'm so important, I will name my child after a bluegrass instrument." (Rachel Griffiths' child: Banjo.) "Let's be quirky and name our kid after itself." (David Duchovny and Tea Leoni's child: Kyd.)

Some are just outright WEIRD, or incredibly childish: Spec Wildhorse, child of singer John Cougar Mellencamp and model Elaine Irwin; Audio Science, child of sort-of celebrity Shannyn Sossamon; Pilot Inspektor, child of Jason Lee. Then there's director Robert Rodriguez, of El Mariachi and Desperado fame, who decided to have a whole slew of strangely named children: Rocket, Racer, Rebel, and Rogue Rodriguez. (Note that I keep saying "child" rather than boy or girl. It's because for the vast majority of these children, I have no idea what the sex of the child is based on the name alone.)

I guess they think they're being creative? Most of the time it's just obnoxiously pretentious. And these are children of celebrities! As though they aren't going to stick out enough in life. Why not ensure that they will never, ever have a normal life by naming them after a tree? (Pine: the child of Duran Duran's Simon LeBon.) Or make sure your kid is mocked incessantly by making up a word that means nothing but contains something you pick out of your nose. (Tabooger: from MTV's Dan Cortese.)

I used to be upset when I was a kid because no one spells "Meghan" with an "h," because I could never buy anything personalized, like pencils or stickers or those tiny license plate crappy things. Everything always spelled my name "Megan." I felt so left out...if only my name was "Melissa" or "Jennifer." Imagine trying to find a tiny license plate that says "Moxie Crimefighter?" (child of magician/reality contestant Penn Jillette.)

And of course it isn't just celebrities. Non-celebrity mere mortals do it, too. As a teacher, I used to see some real gems. A boy named Everlasting. A girl named Tequila. And I used to feel bad for the kid in my class named William Williams...

Let's call this what it is: child abuse. You are effectively relegating your child to a life of taunts and ridicule, all so you can feel "unique." It's incredibly selfish. Do you ever stop and think of how this child will feel with the name Zolten? (Another Penn Jillette gem.) Let's just hope these parents don't spend the rest of their child's life putting their own random whims over the best interests of their child.

P.S. And the winner for the child name that is SO bad it's actually kind of awesome: Jermajesty, child of Jermaine Jackson.

Unabashed Nudity

Let me begin by apologizing about the delay in posting. There were the holidays, then I moved, then I just wasn't feeling inspired. But today in the gym locker room, as I was surrounded by 4 naked ladies well into their 60s, inspiration found me.

I get it...locker rooms are for nudity. You change into your workout clothes, you shower, you get dressed for the outside world. Each of these acts require being naked. And no, you should not have to cover yourself up at every turn or be ashamed of your body. It's only women in the locker room, that's what they're for, it's freeing to not care, blah blah blah.

But there is naked, and there is NAKED. It's the difference between walking naked from the shower to the changing area...and sitting naked on a bench, legs spread wide, having a lengthy conversation with someone. I understand necessary nudity. I just don't understand the "zero modesty whatsoever" policy. It's...for lack of a better word...awkward to be around someone completely nude for an extended period of time. It's awkward to see them drying off their hair while their everything jiggles and shakes. Call me a jerk, but I just don't need to see a woman old enough to be my grandmother bent over putting on lotion. (Shudder)

Mike has to work out at the same gym as his professors. And inevitably, he's had to run into them as they've exited the shower. He's sadly been forced to endure several conversations with professors in the buff. So he basically has to stand there and speak with his superiors, all the while pretending he isn't in close proximity to soggy old man junk.

I suppose locker room nakedness is a necessary evil. And maybe I'm just a prude. Maybe when I'm 60-something I'll stroll around in my birthday suit with reckless abandonment. But until then, I'm mastering the art of lightning fast clothes changing. I want to spend as little time in that flesh fest as possible.