Bum-fight

Today, as I was waiting for my lunch order to come up, I saw a man walk into the cafe. He was tall with long, dirty, blond hair. He filled two cups at the soda fountain, under the suspicion of the buss boy, and returned to his table outside. My order came up and I found a table over from him.

I had just started to eat my grilled cheese when I heard someone shouting in Chinese. It was a small man shouting at the first man's dog. 

I'm not really sure exactly how things went about, but the dog started barking at the Chinese man, which led him to kick at the dog. In turn, the first man pushed him a way, and they ended up in an all-out brawl. Security cards came to break it up, the cops followed, and a handful of people were recording the whole thing on their phones.

I felt like an jerk just sitting there, eating my sandwich, but I didn't know what to do. I thought about  calling the cops, but they'd already been called several times (people kept announcing that they had or were going to call). I thought about moving, but it seemed like a bad idea at the time. So I sat, and ate my sourdough grilled cheese sandwich as each suspect and and excited witnesses were questioned.

People are such assholes. 

Richmond Drivers

I'm not sure how your car pertains to a higher being.

I love driving, on highways and parkways and expressways and toll roads and any other place that doesn't have stop lights and stop signs. I am great at driving in those places. I have a tiny car that's relatively low to the ground. It's only a four-cylinder, thankfully. If I had anything with a larger engine I'm sure I would have had my license suspended by now. I like speeding, not because I'm in a hurry, but because I like getting wherever I'm going as fast as possible. I drive as though I have to pee really badly, all the time.

This type of driving doesn't really work in Richmond. People here are not in a hurry to get anywhere, ever. They take their time. They're okay with not honking at people who take more than ten seconds to go at a green light. They also don't mind going ten under the speed limit on heavily trafficed roads. I don't understand it, I'm anxious to get where I'm going, whether it's the grocery store, to meet friends, to get to DC - it doesn't matter. This also applies to drives I take on late nights to nowhere, it's nice to move as fast as my mind is moving sometimes.

While discussing our upcoming trip to Savannah, my friend says to me, "It's supposed to take what eight hours to get there? So, that means you'll have us there in six."

I grew up in Northern Virginia. I know traffic. I know my way around it. And I know like 92473 ways to get wherever I need to go. I have no concept of what a mile is, but I can tell you how long it will take to get somewhere. Since moving to Richmond I don't like driving anywhere that takes more than fifteen minutes to drive to (unless it's another city's limits). If it takes more than fifteen minutes to get to, it's probably not worth going to anyway, i.e. the suburbs.

These are my issues with Richmond drivers:

1. Signals

Every car made ever has two of them. They work when you push a lever up or down. They allow people around you to anticipate your turn. It's a courtesy to those around you, prevents accidents, and when both are flashing they let people know that they should go around you. Anyway, they're really great, and I highly recommend using them.

Though, they can be used improperly, like when you need to change lanes and you do so, but you forget to turn your signal off after your move and proceed to irritate everyone around you. Stop it.

2. Speed Limits

No one in Richmond seems to be aware of what they mean or how they work. Sure, you're not supposed to go faster than they say, but you're also not supposed to got ten under the speed limit. I get it, if you do this you're probably really stupid and not sure where you are (get a GPS) and aren't stopping for directions, or you're really old. I don't care, just think of all the people that have to pee and get out of their way.

3. Abrupt Stops

Oh! Hi! I see that you're a chick my age and apparently a terrible driver. You've stopped in the middle of a main street, cool. You're picking up your friend? They're taking forever? I know how that goes. I also know that you have a button on your dashboard with a little red triangle on it, you should push it. See what happens. Oh, crazy, it turns both your signals on. Thanks! Now I know to drive around you when the other lane is clear. That was like so easy.

4. Parallel Parking

Richmond has shit public transportation. The buses are undependable, and...oh wait, there is no other form of public transportation, so we drive everywhere. That's fine, but we live in a city and there are a lot of us. You don't need six feet between you and the other cars to pull out properly. Really. You are part of the parking problem. Don't complain about not being able to not find a spot if you typically take up two.

If you don't live in the city and aren't accustomed to parallel parking, please stay in the suburbs with your giant car. We live here, and we park on the street and you're wasting space.

5. Cobblestone

There is a particular stretch of cobblestone called "Shockoe Slip." I have to drive down it every day on my way home. The speed limit is still 25 MPH there, and it is still two lanes. I promise.

6. Lanes

These are conveniently marked in contrasting white or yellow on the black asphalt. In most areas there are two lanes. Pick one! Stay in it. And if for some reason you need to change lanes, use your signal!

7. One-Way streets

I get it, you're drunk. We all are. I assume that you know how to read arrows. Follow them.

8. Trucks/SUVs/Other giant vehicles

You (I'm assuming) live in the city. Why would you need a giant car? Do you transport things frequently? If you do, it's probably a company car, in which case there's probably a company lot you can leave it in. Do that.

9. Magnets

Your car is covered in them. They support some really noble cause, I'm sure. But you're not really raising awareness, you're saying, "Hi, I feel the need to advertise everything I'm associated with in public, all the time." We don't care. And I will remove them from your car when I'm drunk. You are welcome.

10. Vanity Plates!

Virginia has an inordinate amount of these because they're really cheap here. Cheap also sometimes (most of the time) implies tacky. It's great that you're "OPNYN8D" or "AWWWSUM" - we all feel this way about ourselves, but the rest of us let other people find out in a personal, less public way.

What's up?

I hate that text message.

This is the text message that guys send when they're too chicken to call and/or are looking to get laid. It depends on the time of day, but no matter what time of day it is, it is a useless message. They don't care "what's up" they aren't interested in the fact that you are getting ready for work or class or bed. This is fine though because if they are sending you this particular message, they are bored and probably not worth spending time with anyway.

This is not the text message of a person that has a ton going for them. They probably aren't pursuing any hobbies, is probably not the most emotionally healthy person, and lacks the confidence to carry on an interesting conversation. Was that harsh? Perhaps. But I'm being honest.

If you do happen to respond to this message it will lead nowhere. It'll probably result in the following:

"Nothing much, just doing (insert mundane task here)."
"Sounds like more fun than I'm having (insert emoticon)."
"What's up with you?"
"(Insert some activity that you have absolutely no interest in.)"

This will go on until you, the recipient of the original text suggest that you hang out, because they don't have the chutzpa to ask you out on a date or at the very least instigate hanging out.

If he were actually interested in seeing you or how your life is going you would receive something more thoughtful. Perhaps a "How is your day going?" Or a "What are you doing later?" Or maybe something witty and related to whatever they're doing, i.e. "Did you read (whatever) on BBC today? Sending you the link now." Or "We fucking owned that shit. (insert sports team they love) 297397, (other team) 0." You get the gist.

"What's up?" is quite possibly the lowest form of communication. It's probably a template message by some mobile carriers. It requires no thought. Sure he texted you, but the likelihood of him texting several other people the vague, impersonal message is likely. It's an effort to make his evening slightly better.

And if you are one of those sad souls who sends that text message, please stop. Do something. Anything. Just don't be so lazy. This isn't even a romance thing, it's a being-a-decent-person thing. And decent people keep in touch with people, and ask those people questions and call them or email them about their lives, if those are people that they want to be in their lives.

"What's up?" is not a complete sentence, there's not even a subject!

While I understand that we live in a world of instance and brevity, if someone is worth staying in touch with they are worth asking real questions, and hopefully they think enough of you to do you the same courtesy.

No Babies

Sometimes I'm not the one sending drunk text messages.

Him: When I'm 30 will you have my kid?
Me: What?
Me: No!
Him: Why not?
Me: Because I'll be 24?
Him: So?
Me: And I probably won't want kids then...

But really, this guy would actually probably be down with the Sunday-Dinner-Daddy situation.

A different conversation:

Him: Are you pregnant?
Me: No.
Him: Are you sure?
Me: Yes.
Him: You're kind of religious, right?
Me: Not really...
Him: Well if you were pregnant...
Me: Dude, I'm 20...

I'm not going to write out the rest of that conversation. 1) My mom would cry. 2) I have no reason to believe that I am, or soon will be with child.

Dudes are so weird sometimes.

Also, baby related - my sister's due date was this paste Monday. The baby is still in her belly. And I spent last Wednesday with my 6 year old nephew, who is great, but I am so down with not having one of those for a very long time.

I go to shows to dance

I went to a concert last night. Not Phoenix, but Frightened Rabbit in DC because someone was kind enough to put me on the list. So, I get there during Maps and Atlases. And there are these three fat girls between me and the stage.

I was told that after I had lived in Richmond that I would become racist, that hasn't happened. I still think that people's economic situations are more relevant to their behavior than their race is. My only prejudice is against fat people. This is not to be confused with overweight people.

Overweight people are your friends, they don't suck at life, they dance at shows and they dress well. Fat people, are the opposite. I mean, would you call anyone that you like fat? No, because it's a mean thing to say. And I know I'm being mean right now.

Anyway, I am the biggest Frightened Rabbit fan I know, that is not borderline stalker (Eric, I'm looking at you). I saw them for the first time backstage at the Black Cat two years ago and fell in love. And I for some reason have not bought a ticket to see them ever, that first show I was reviewing (because Oxford Collapse was also playing) and then when they played Inauguration weekend I, like the show last night, wasn't anticipating a sell out, and talked my way in. Anyway, they were incredible last night, and the fat girls in front of me kept complaining about my dancing and screaming.

Dude. Really. We're at a fucking show. Manners don't exist and if I haphazardly run into you, I'm not sorry, because we're at a show and you should be moving too. These three chicks occasionally moved their heads, but mostly made me hate them more each time one of them took a turn to go get drinks and another would give me a look and say "my friend is coming back" or "my friend is back." It's a general admission show! People move. Get over it.

Also, to my left was a couple that was obviously in high school. They didn't move either. And they only knew songs off The Winter of Mixed Drinks. And the girl kept looking at me like I was insane. I went to shows in high school and I danced my fucking brains out. I was that annoying girl in high school now I'm just that annoying dancing girl who's still not 21, when is she turning 21?

I also drank a redbull as soon as I got there, and I'm not someone who consumes caffeine very often. A redbull does to me what a couple lines would do to someone else. So, I was super "jumpy" as Eric said.

I didn't even push to the middle, I was already so close that I didn't need to push any further forward, but my friend is not as aggressive as I am at shows. I can only imagine what the fatties would have passive aggressively said not-so-under-their-breaths if I had done that.

I have been to shows where short people have said to me and whomever I was with that we were too tall to be in front of them. I would really liked to have said something along the lines of, "you are taking up too much horizontal space..." but somehow that's not yet socially acceptable. I could go on about fat people in other areas of life, but I'll save it for another post.

Je deteste...

This semester I'm taking French. I took three levels of it between middle school and high school. Level one was divided between sixth and seventh grade, level two was taken in eighth grade and level three in ninth grade. My high school required three years of one language or two years of two languages, so I was done with my foreign language requirement by ninth grade. So, I haven't taken French in over four years.

Every French teacher I have had has always been the following:

short
middleaged
female
paunchy
frumpy
permissive
self-righteous

My class is a part two course, part one was not offered this semester. I figured I'd be alright considering I have taken the equivalent before, and so far I've been able to keep up.

This class, it's divided into two groups, those who had my teacher last semester and in the same class and those who did not. It's apparent when you walk into the room which side is which. The loud, rude side is the former. And there is one loud, rude person in particular. I'll call her Denise.

Denise is one of those people who watches a lot of sports, is a huge Redskins and Capitols fan, but has never played a sport in her life. Though, she does wear cheerleading t-shirts frequently. This baffles me as she is about four times the size of anyone that was on my high school's cheerleading squad. But, she is loud. Very loud. Everything she does is done with maximum loudness.

When I walked into the class the first time, she shouted, "HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEIIII!!!!!!!!!!" from across the room while standing up. I was new, and I was a couple minutes late, but really? Who does that? She does. Since that day she has proceeded to interrupt class on a regular basis. If she sets her cell phone down, she doesn't set it down. Setting something down is a task that require no noise. She slams things down, her pen, pencil, phone, notebook, textbook, purse, everything.

The past two classes were spent watching the movies "Au Revoir les Enfants" - a movie based on a true story about World War II. We had the English subtitles on. Denise managed to ruin the film. She was constantly texting, on her computer, walking around, "whispering," etc. Only once did our teacher (permissive, not at all assertive) ask her to be quiet.



It took everything in me to not say anything. I mean we're all adults, at least legally, and most of us are able to exercise some level of self-control, manners. Denise has no regard for those around her and no concept of what is polite. This week a boy came into class and explained that he was having trouble with the drink machine, but it finally worked and gave him three Cokes. Denise, blithely volunteered to take one off his hands. He being a better person than I am, conceded.

By the end of the movie she had finished her Coke and exclaimed that she didn't understand anything that had gone on in the movie, especially the ending - a part that had me crying. She of course did this loudly. And I of course politely explained that perhaps if she had been paying attention instead of texting or facebooking that maybe she would have known what was going on. She looked at me as though I had just slapped her in the face.

Perhaps I was the one being rude. Perhaps it would have been better to not say anything, but people like her need to be educated in the ways of what is and is not appropriate behavior and in what setting. And perhaps it's not my place to be that person, but I kept my cool, didn't raise my voice, and politely expressed my opinion. I have the feeling that her actions are all to cover up her insecurities, everyone does that to some degree, but most keep it at a reasonable volume.

healthcareshmelthcare

As someone who grew up with military healthcare, I have to disagree wholeheartedly with the idea that the military has the best healthcare in the country. It is an HMO, it doesn't cover all types of care and it is fairly conservative - contraception, it's an issue, especially for those not married. Just saying.

So, last night when I was watching this video, my mother invited me to one of those Tea Parties that the conservative movement has been holding across the country. I am all for free speech, and freedom of expression and making your views known to your elected leaders, but I'm not going to participate in something I don't believe in, but I find it fascinating that my mother still feels the need to argue with me about things. Healthcare is a privilege and if socialize healthcare is the only way we can achieve this, then so be it. In a society where employers aren't always able to afford to insure their employees, and in a country where they already have a limited public system, it only makes sense to make it accessible to more people.

My eyes! My eyes!

I have yet to have what Garrett calls an "encounter" with a homeless person. I have not ever had one yell at me, or come intimidatingly close. Sure they ask me for change all the time, sometimes when I'm on my bike they'll yell - I kid you no- "Ay, Yo Girl!" I'm very good at ignoring all of this, and homeless people in general.

So, on my way to school tonight I saw a man relieving himself in some flowers.

Last year when I was visiting friends in Charlottesville I saw a man with a walker, walking, with his pants down and urinating as he walked, while he supported himself on the walker. This was completely different because were close to an old folk's home and a hospital and I figured he could he either do that or wet himself. If I were him I would have chosen the former also.

I'm also familiar with guys peeing anywhere, but not usually out in the open. Really, why couldn't he have least faced a building or something? Instead of standing next to a tree, and not a large tree, though I suppose he was trying to hide behind it? I don't know. I just really wish I had not seen it. And now I would like very much for that picture to stop running through my head.

Trash, the good kind

Let it be known that I love horrible television. Not the Jerry Springer type of trash but the dramatic type of horror.

Since coming to school my roommate and I have made a habit of catching 'Project Runway' each way. And after the first week an very sad kind of doofy girl on our floor has started to join us. She talks throughout the whole show. And not just comments like "That's cute" or "What were they thinking!" Comments like "I really like this show, which season is this?" and she'll go on. And it's not just during the commercials, it's during the actual show. We just deal because we don't want to be mean. Crazy, I know.

So currently I"m watching 'Gossip Girl' and she has walked by several times, each of which she feels the need to comment on how much she likes this show. Luckily she's not actually watching it with me. Thank God.

My Dad is Crazy: 2

I fell asleep in a chair watching Split Ends on the Style Network. I know, I know, I'm lame. But I would love to do that one day.

I eventually woke up and dragged myself up to my bed. This morning however wasn't quite as nice to me. Around 9:30 my neighbors kid started honking their car's horn, and when I couldn't take it anymore I got out of my very warm bed and rose to a very cold house.

My dad has turned of the heater and turned on the AC. It is 64 degrees inside. I prefer 70. I am cold, very cold, and it's not warmer outside yet. It is April, I should not have to bundle up anymore, especially inside.

Only four more months.

favors

i'm a fan of charity; giving my leftovers to that lady that hangs out around the fountain in old town; donating to the salvation army; those sorts of things. but favors, favors do not sit well with amanda. unless she asks, don't do it. DO NOT DO IT! SHE WILL NOT APPRECIATE IT! (unless it's in the form of flowers, brownies, or a victoria secret gift card, but let's be honest those aren't favors they're presents and amanda loves presents)

the perks of still living at home are fabulous, free food, a car that is accessible on the weekends (unfortuneately not all the time), occasionally money (when my parents get tired of seeing my we are scientists shirt everyday), those sorts of things. but my paretns, they are capbale of irritating me like no other. like last night, my dad decided to clean all the windows, great i dea dad, but my desk is in front of my window, and dad, you didn't put anything back. this morning my mom felt the need to fold, and start putting away my laundry; dealing with my clothes is a HUGE no-no. i hate the thought of anyone washing, drying, and touching my clothes. this isn't because i'm afraid they'll get dirty, but because i'm OCD about things being done my way. if it's not my way, and it's dealing with my things, it's definately the wrong way. and of course my dad felt the need to laugh at how funny it is when amanda's irriated by coming in and nonchalantly saying, "i think i'll go mess around in amanda's closet." he is so sweet.

my room may not be the cleanest, but all my stuff is in it, and they can certainly find something else to do that doesn't concern me. like shopping, or dancing, or walking... anything so long as they're not in my room, or trying to read over my shoulder.

now, i get this from my mom. but she asks for things to be done, and expects them to be done her way and when they're not she gets mad. especially when we have people over. i hate having people over simply because my mom feels the need to act as though brad pitt and jennifer aniston are breaking up all over again. it usually involves her asking me to help with dinner, getting mad because i didn't make the potatoes correctly, asking me to vaccuum, getting upset because i did it too early so it's not perfect when the guests arrive, or something similar.

this is why my family visits in short spurts. very rarely longer than three days. after that time, we're done, we've seen you, you're alive, that's great, but i'm going nuts having you rearrange the stuff on the counter in the bathroom, in my desk drawer, moving the location of the silverware, etc. i'll see you later.