Earlier this week on Bloomberg TV, Lululemon co-founder Chip Wilson seemed oblivious to the foot in his mouth when he said yoga pants "don't work for some women's bodies." He later clarified that "it's really about the rubbing through the thighs, how much pressure is there over a period of time and how much they use it." Well, that sounds like not every woman can wear your pants, Chip. "No, I think they can. I just think it's how you use it."
Meaning... if you use yoga pants on your chubby, muscular or borderline average thighs, you might distress the fabric to the point of malfunction. If you face the fact that you should be purchasing two sizes above what you normally do, and wear the pants on, say, your arms, however, they work just fine! Or if you're one of the emaciated models posing for the "thinspiration" pins haunting the dreams of half the population of suburban junior highs chools, you're good to go!
It's no surprise a lot of women were outraged by Wilson's comments and have pledged to boycott the brand. But a lot of Interwebs commenters are coming to Wilson's defense for being the first person to say what everyone else is thinking - spandex isn't for everyone. First of all, I believe Kimmy Gibbler was the first person to say that. And second, whether he likes it or not (and judging from later in the interview when Chip talks about how wealthy he is, he does), a large part of Lululemon's success is due to its reputation for producing slimming yoga pants. And you know who buys slimming clothes? Well, all women, probably, but especially women who might indulge in a french fry on special occasions. Personally, I think Nike's are more flattering, but most of my friends swear by their Lulus and claim their butts don't look as good in anything else. Even Hoda Kotbe can't help herself from shrugging her shoulders after every negative story about Lululemon and talking about how much she loves her yoga pants and how thin they make you look.
While "Sure they're insanely expensive, but they make you look skinny!" might not be Lululemon's official tagline, that, along with "Let people know you work out, and you're rich!" are the incentives behind 90 percent of Lululemon purchases, according to me. So I think Chip should either stop participating in the mass production of spandex clothes, if he doesn't think the mass of human women can pull them off, or embrace his costumer base by reinforcing the confidence his magical pants have given them, instead of alienating them and contributing to the dangerously unrealistic "thigh gap" obsession with his bizarre comments.
Maybe because I do happen to love Lulu tank tops, I want to believe Wilson isn't a misogynist - he's just kind of a weirdo... and he needs to find a CEO to look into quality control issues (because he's too busy enjoying his wealth to do it himself)... and maybe a PR director who knows something about media training.
Showing posts with label Rants. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rants. Show all posts
Friday, November 8, 2013
Thursday, November 8, 2012
More fun with office email: WFH edition
One of the (lowly) perks of my job is the option to work from home, and a good chunk of my colleagues work from home offices every day. Yet my co-workers in the Chicago office feel the need to justify why they're working from home every freaking time they take advantage of this benefit, which is usually multiple times a week, from multiple people. Because totally harmless, random things tend to irrationally infuriate me, I CANNOT STAND these possibly BS, totally unnecessary excuses. I'm no one's boss, or mother, and I don't care.
On principle I have refused to provide reasons when I notify them that I'm working from home. My personal business is no business of theirs; plus I prefer oversharing via social media or too many cocktails to Outlook email. But in an attempt to prolong the slow death by boredom I'm experiencing in Corporate America, I've decided to spice up my "WFH" messages. Here are a few I'm considering putting in rotation:
On principle I have refused to provide reasons when I notify them that I'm working from home. My personal business is no business of theirs; plus I prefer oversharing via social media or too many cocktails to Outlook email. But in an attempt to prolong the slow death by boredom I'm experiencing in Corporate America, I've decided to spice up my "WFH" messages. Here are a few I'm considering putting in rotation:
- I'm working from home today because the dog ate my homework.
- I'm working from home today because I have uncontrollable shits.
- I'm working from home today because the thought of making small talk in the office kitchen makes me want to stab myself in the eye.
- I'm working from home today because I have a job interview. Wish me luck!
- I'm working in pajamas today, and I assume you'd prefer I do that from home.
- It's cold out, so I'm working from home.
- I had an emergency session with my therapist this morning, so I'm working from home for the rest of the day.
- I have a doctor's appointment this afternoon, so I'm working from home. Case of the Mondays :(
- I'm going to see my lady doctor this afternoon, so I'm working from home. Yearly pap smear :)
- I have a gyno appointment tomorrow morning, so I'm going to work the rest of the day from home. Suspicious discharge :-/
- There's something seriously wrong with my vagina. I'll be working from home until further notice.
- I'm working from home today because there's a 12pm yoga class I want to go to. (Actually true on most Fridays)
- If you're reading this, then you already know. I'm working from home... BECAUSE I CAN. (Always true)
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Alarming news about alarms
First of all, I love me some Jeff Rossen. Just when I think I can't be any more outraged, he gives me something else to be outraged about. My favorite segments, though, are ones in which he legitimizes and fuels existing rage.
I was just ranting about smoke detectors at my book club last week (what else would you talk about at book club?), complaining that they are way too sensitive, actually desensitizing us to alarms and forcing (some of) us to do unsafe things like take the batteries out to prevent the alarm from going off every time we turn the oven on. Or dismantling it when that, inexplicably, doesn't stop the incessant beeping.
So my ears perked up when I heard my friend Jeff say on the Today Show this morning, "We've all been there. You burn toast in your house and suddenly your smoke alarm goes off, so you assume it's ultra sensitive, but experts say think again." YES I have been there! WHAT?? Tell me more!
It turns out the most common type of smoke detectors -- those using ionization technology -- aren't so great at detecting smoke from burning furniture, as opposed to smoke from burning food, which they seem to be a little too good at.
Rossen goes on to tell the heartbreaking story of a woman who lost four of her children to smoke inhalation because her ionization alarms -- the kind used in 90% of homes -- never went off.
When tested, three ionization alarms take over half an hour to go off in a room that is filled with toxic smoke. Apparently ionization alarms can detect fires with fast flames (and are awesome at detecting burnt toast!), but experts say some of the most deadly fires start slower.
But Rossen finds us an alternative! A second test reveals that an alarm using photoelectric technology goes off in 17 minutes, when there is barely any smoke in the room. Although photoelectric technology has been around for a while, those alarms are more expensive to produce, and the cheaper ionization alarms meet government safety regulations.
How can that be?? Of course we can count on Rossen to go straight to the source. Unfortunately, it's evident from his awkward interview with a senior engineer at the Consumer Product Safety Commission, which could very well be mistaken for a Daily Show skit, that the government agency that's supposed to rectify Corporate America's faulty conscience actually doesn't give a crap.
Well thank goodness for the Today Show and Jeff Rossen, right?! If he wasn't so riveting I may have actually left for work on time and missed his closing advice to install both types of alarms (was hoping I'd get to go Office Space on my ionization alarm), or splurge on a "dual detector" that employs both technologies. Let's just hope the pricier models at least know the difference between a fire and a dirty oven, or I'm asking my friend for a follow-up investigation.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Friendly or annoying? I'll be the judge.
"Buffalo, New York, is one of the rudest places in America and residents of New York City are far friendlier than folks in the Midwest and the South," according to one of the silliest articles I've ever read. MailOnline recently reported that a company called Vertaline conducted a "study" that tracked tweets containing the phrases "good morning" and "f*** you" across 462 cities.
The results don't confuse me as much as the study itself. If they were looking for the city that's home to the most annoying, boring, self-indulgent Twitter addicts, I suppose "good morning" would be a good phrase to track. Although I'm not actually on Twitter, so maybe I'm wrong. Maybe their followers enjoy reading inane tweets and appreciate being reminded of when people are waking up in various time zones.
Come to think of it, I don't much like people saying "good morning" to me offline, either. If it's a colleague in the office kitchen, I fear being roped into small talk about her weekend putting together a jigsaw puzzle. And if it's a strange man on the street who also tells me to smile, I have to resist the urge to respond with "f*** you" -- because that is decidedly rude, especially in (even in?) the Midwest.
Photo source: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2191250/Twitter-heat-map-tracks-polite-rudest-cities.html
"Nice" cities
"Naughty" cities
The results don't confuse me as much as the study itself. If they were looking for the city that's home to the most annoying, boring, self-indulgent Twitter addicts, I suppose "good morning" would be a good phrase to track. Although I'm not actually on Twitter, so maybe I'm wrong. Maybe their followers enjoy reading inane tweets and appreciate being reminded of when people are waking up in various time zones.
Come to think of it, I don't much like people saying "good morning" to me offline, either. If it's a colleague in the office kitchen, I fear being roped into small talk about her weekend putting together a jigsaw puzzle. And if it's a strange man on the street who also tells me to smile, I have to resist the urge to respond with "f*** you" -- because that is decidedly rude, especially in (even in?) the Midwest.
Photo source: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2191250/Twitter-heat-map-tracks-polite-rudest-cities.html
Sunday, July 29, 2012
The Olympic Mullet
I've been ranting about the messy hair epidemic that's plaguing women's gymnastics since the Olympic trials. (Although it's my favorite sport, I must admit I only really follow it every four years.) I hoped that with the fall of Nastia, the worst offender, the hairstyle would quickly go out of fashion before the real games began, but it seems the opposite happened. The sloppy trend has now spread to the heads of the majority of the U.S. women's team.
It's very confusing to me that these girls whose lives revolve around achieving perfection allow their hair to look so half-assed. Literally. It's a half ponytail that hasn't been pulled through to completion, flopping around slovenly, encouraging rebel layers to break free of color-coordinated scrunchies.
Or perhaps the hairstyle is akin to the "just rolled out of bed" or "beach hair" looks that actually require significant prep time. I wouldn't be surprised to catch the gymnasts staring at the mirror intently, pulling a few symmetrical strands through to create a very deliberate effect before the whole appalling 'do is sprayed down with industrial-strength hair glue.
But why?? I have to find a reason in order to get past how much I hate the lazy look and root for my country. So here's my explanation, and it's actually quite patriotic: It's the Olympic mullet -- athlete in the front, party in the back. It evokes great American traditions like NASCAR, fannypacks, arrogance -- and dominating the Olympics.
Photo credit: http://www.ledger-enquirer.com/2012/07/29/2137693/us-womens-gymnasts-to-start-on.html
Or perhaps the hairstyle is akin to the "just rolled out of bed" or "beach hair" looks that actually require significant prep time. I wouldn't be surprised to catch the gymnasts staring at the mirror intently, pulling a few symmetrical strands through to create a very deliberate effect before the whole appalling 'do is sprayed down with industrial-strength hair glue.
But why?? I have to find a reason in order to get past how much I hate the lazy look and root for my country. So here's my explanation, and it's actually quite patriotic: It's the Olympic mullet -- athlete in the front, party in the back. It evokes great American traditions like NASCAR, fannypacks, arrogance -- and dominating the Olympics.
Photo credit: http://www.ledger-enquirer.com/2012/07/29/2137693/us-womens-gymnasts-to-start-on.html
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Train game
After sitting in a cubicle all day, naturally, all I want to do is sit some more on the train home. And with where my office is located on the Purple Line, that's actually a possibility -- if I am lucky enough to be standing directly in front of a door when the train stops. When this happens I'm taken back to my favorite game in Super Mario Brothers 3, and I feel like a winner!
But more often than not I end up in this scenario:
My head follows the door I've been eying longingly as it slowly passes me by, and after the train jerks to a stop, a quick glance back to the left confirms that I am smack dab in the middle of two doors and SOL. For a few seconds I anxiously shift from one foot to the other while I try to gauge which door has less of a crowd in front of it. This gets even more awkward if I'm with my husband, as we without fail always head for different doors and then turn back irritably when we realize the other is not following, losing precious time, not to mention our newlywed glow.
As annoying as that is, though, the worst is when I end up directly behind a polite commuter who lets everyone and their mother board before US (well, not really mothers -- I suppose they should get priority seating). Are you really being courteous when you're inconveniencing the lady behind you who very well may lose her will to live if she doesn't get to sit down and relax with her large library book for 20 minutes after a hard day's work of trading passive aggressive emails?? Or perhaps these commuters aren't really being polite -- maybe they're just slow. Do they not want to snag a seat themselves? Are they not in a hurry to escape the work day?? I don't get it.
I for one just want to get where I'm going as quickly and as comfortably as possible...perhaps I should get one of these:
Photo credits:
http://www.consoleclassix.com/nes/super_mario_bros_3.html
ml
http://www.matwolf.com/SMB3/Images.htm
http://mario.wikia.com/wiki/File:PeachSuperCircuit.png
But more often than not I end up in this scenario:
My head follows the door I've been eying longingly as it slowly passes me by, and after the train jerks to a stop, a quick glance back to the left confirms that I am smack dab in the middle of two doors and SOL. For a few seconds I anxiously shift from one foot to the other while I try to gauge which door has less of a crowd in front of it. This gets even more awkward if I'm with my husband, as we without fail always head for different doors and then turn back irritably when we realize the other is not following, losing precious time, not to mention our newlywed glow.
As annoying as that is, though, the worst is when I end up directly behind a polite commuter who lets everyone and their mother board before US (well, not really mothers -- I suppose they should get priority seating). Are you really being courteous when you're inconveniencing the lady behind you who very well may lose her will to live if she doesn't get to sit down and relax with her large library book for 20 minutes after a hard day's work of trading passive aggressive emails?? Or perhaps these commuters aren't really being polite -- maybe they're just slow. Do they not want to snag a seat themselves? Are they not in a hurry to escape the work day?? I don't get it.
I for one just want to get where I'm going as quickly and as comfortably as possible...perhaps I should get one of these:
Photo credits:
http://www.consoleclassix.com/nes/super_mario_bros_3.html
ml
http://www.matwolf.com/SMB3/Images.htm
http://mario.wikia.com/wiki/File:PeachSuperCircuit.png
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Bachelor blues
I spent last night yelling at the TV more than usual. Either my taste level is rising (unlikely) or The Bachelor is sinking even further into the filth. And this goes beyond the fact that Ben is a dufus and Courtney is evil. Confusion over the allure of the bachelor and irrational hatred for one or more of the contestants are givens. These irritations are really testing my devotion to ABC's reality:- Courtney never stops touching her hair, and her weird mouth, and everything she says is ridiculous and cliched and annoying. Lindzi (is that seriously how she spells her name??) always leans her head forward when she talks, like everything she says is a secret, or someone told her that's a flattering camera angle. Poor Emily scrunched her nose incessantly. Why are they casting such annoying people?? If the point is to distract viewers from how awful the show is, it's doing the opposite.
- Every date is a metaphor! Jumping out of a helicopter is like falling in love; overcoming your fear of helicopters is like overcoming your fear of being vulnerable in love; taking a chance on a helicopter ride is like taking a chance on love! WE GET IT.
- And then there's the awkward advertising tie-ins. When Ben said skiing in San Fran had always been on his "leap list" in Episode 3, my first thought was, "That's dumb," and my second thought was, "and isn't it called a 'bucket list?' Dummy." But no, I learned there is such a thing as a "leap list" during the following commercial break. Honda invented it. And then last night the former bachelorettes got all dressed up in skin-tight dresses to watch Titanic in an empty theater, fresh makeovers hidden behind hideous 3D glasses. A commercial for the 3D re-release and the upcoming Bachelorette season - two for one disguised as television programming!
And the show makes me hate myself most of all because I can't. Stop. Watching. Evil, evil genius.
Photo credit: http://abc.go.com/shows/the-bachelor/photo-details/episode-3/911487/914981
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Friendly reminders make me unfriendly
I need to rant about the "friendly reminders" I receive via work email on a daily basis. First, the phrase is an oxymoron. There is no such thing as a "friendly" reminder. A reminder to a co-worker is inherently unfriendly. It means you have no faith in someone to complete a task by the given due date, that you feel the need to nag her as if she's a lazy husband who never remembers to take out the garbage or a child who never wants to brush her teeth.
Which leads me to the second reason I can't stand friendly reminders. Believe it or not, I actually get my work done on time. In fact, I pride myself on dazzling people with my efficiency, and feel deflated --> insulted --> enraged if someone thinks they need to send reminders. If on the rare occasion I can't meet a deadline, I never fail to communicate why and when I will have the work done:
Which leads me to the second reason I can't stand friendly reminders. Believe it or not, I actually get my work done on time. In fact, I pride myself on dazzling people with my efficiency, and feel deflated --> insulted --> enraged if someone thinks they need to send reminders. If on the rare occasion I can't meet a deadline, I never fail to communicate why and when I will have the work done:
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Happy birthday, I guess.
Yesterday was my birthday ... and while I admittedly enjoy pretty much any kind of attention, I couldn't help but be a bit disheartened by the number of flat "happy birthdays" I received via electronic communications.
I understand how annoying the obligatory "happy birthday" can be, and Facebook's new prompts only make you feel more guilty for not writing on the walls of every one of your 400 "friends" when you're alerted of the anniversary of their birth.
But you do have a choice: ignore the birthday alert or commit to the post by writing on the birthday girl's wall with some enthusiasm, for chrissakes. At least muster up an exclamation point or two after "happy birthday," or personalize it a bit with "happy birthday, Amy!" It's only three extra letters, people. The "happy birthdays" with no punctuation, or worse, a period, sort of put a damper on my special day. And even though I normally enjoy acronyms, "HBD" is just lazy.
A few hours into the work day, a colleague who must create Outlook alerts for everyone's birthdays sent an email out letting everyone know it was my birthday, and I started noticing the same grumpy grammar in responses from the rest of my team. I was equally annoyed by the obligatory thank yous I had to write back, but at least I faked it with smiley face emoticons :)
Then again, I also received a rather creepy e-card from a co-worker I've never met in person that featured a picture of me he somehow copied and pasted from Facebook in the middle of several birthday graphics and messages ... apparently it is possible to say "happy birthday" with too much enthusiasm. (His friend request is still pending.)
I understand how annoying the obligatory "happy birthday" can be, and Facebook's new prompts only make you feel more guilty for not writing on the walls of every one of your 400 "friends" when you're alerted of the anniversary of their birth.
But you do have a choice: ignore the birthday alert or commit to the post by writing on the birthday girl's wall with some enthusiasm, for chrissakes. At least muster up an exclamation point or two after "happy birthday," or personalize it a bit with "happy birthday, Amy!" It's only three extra letters, people. The "happy birthdays" with no punctuation, or worse, a period, sort of put a damper on my special day. And even though I normally enjoy acronyms, "HBD" is just lazy.A few hours into the work day, a colleague who must create Outlook alerts for everyone's birthdays sent an email out letting everyone know it was my birthday, and I started noticing the same grumpy grammar in responses from the rest of my team. I was equally annoyed by the obligatory thank yous I had to write back, but at least I faked it with smiley face emoticons :)
Then again, I also received a rather creepy e-card from a co-worker I've never met in person that featured a picture of me he somehow copied and pasted from Facebook in the middle of several birthday graphics and messages ... apparently it is possible to say "happy birthday" with too much enthusiasm. (His friend request is still pending.)
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Kim's fairy tale divorce
It's shocking to me that people are shocked that Kim Kardashian filed for divorce after 72 days of marriage. Aside from the obvious red flags of her lightning-speed engagement and neanderthal husband's awful personality, two words sealed the divorce deal: "fairy tale." (I - and Merriam-Webster - think it's two words, E!)Kim's wedding special on E! was called Kim's Fairytale Wedding. Kim wrote on her blog today, "It just didn't turn out to be the fairy tale I had so badly hoped for." Why does everyone on reality TV think they're signing up for a reality fairy tale, when in fact they're signing up for pretty much the opposite - public humiliation and disastrous relationships?
Let this be a lesson to prospective Bachelor contestants - I'm not sure I can sit through another season of bachelorette after desperate bachelorette's juvenile monologues about happily ever after and Prince Charming. Remember Santa? How he wasn't real? Fairy tales are kinda like that, except it turns out your mom can't even keep up the charade - not even if she's Kris Jenner.
Photo credit: http://getglue.com/stickers/e/kims_fairytale_wedding_a_kardashian_event_part_2
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Perhaps Sketchers should shape up
Companies marketing "adult" products to young girls is nothing new (Abercrombie Kids' thongs, "sexy" Halloween costumes for tots, etc.), but something especially irks me about the new Sketchers Shape-ups for girls commercial. It's the sloppy and misguided use of "girl power."
What exactly is going on in the scene where the trim and happy girl is being chased by slovenly boys dressed in ice cream cone, cupcake and hot dog outfits? Girls rule and boys drool? Or skinny girls rule and fat girls drool over junk food? All of the above?
Girl power used to mean hairy armpits, burning bras and the rejection of oppressive norms. Then marketers got a hold of it and are trying to convince a younger generation that it means attaining the very same unattainable beauty standards the feminist movement tore down.
I think it's messed up that Sketchers is marketing Shape-ups to girls (and if you agree I encourage you to sign this petition). But I'm not going to deny there's a market for them (that's unfortunately probably a lot more profitable than Shape-ups for boys). What pisses me off more is that the campaign mixes the girl power message with another that tells girls as young as seven that they need to shape up.
I buy beauty products and am probably a little too obsessed with going to the gym... I also consider myself a feminist. I'm pretty sure the latter is in spite of, not because of, the former.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
No boys allowed
I've been going to yet another new gym for a few months now, and I'm in like with it. What has kept my love from blossoming is one thing. Or person, rather. One rather smelly boy.
The reason I really like the gym is that it has an amazing variety of classes. I never get bored, even though I've been working out five days a week. What I do get at least once a week though is extremely irritated -- by the smelly boy, who consistently crashes the cardio dance class.
I like the class because it's supposed to be fun, but my dancing career ended with junior high school poms, and I'm not so comfortable shaking my booty in the presence of random men (at least when I'm sober and wearing a lot of spandex). I much prefer the aerobic atmosphere of women, united by shamelessness and gender.
The smelly boy waltzes into class halfway through, so he never learns the routine with us. He just watches us for a while and then "picks it up." Last week he sat on a bench that happened to be about a foot away from my face when we turned to the back of the room and did a move called "cleavage shot." My enthusiasm for the routine -- and my workout -- suffered as I tried to avoid eye contact. I thought I would get some relief when smelly boy finally joined the group, but he proceeded to pick a spot about two feet TOO CLOSE to me. Not only did his unbearable stench waft toward me every time we turned and dropped to the floor for push-ups (Ms. Fitness USA-style), but he ALMOST KICKED ME more than once. Sidenote: It was not a full class. There was PLENTY OF ROOM.
Then toward the end of the class, smelly boy waved in one of his friends who was lurking outside the door. At first I thought he was going to join us too -- which would have been annoying enough -- but no, he just STOOD THERE AND WATCHED for five or 10 minutes. All the booty-shaking, the cleavage-showing, the body-rolling. Just. Watched. I'm now getting the sceevies all over again just thinking about it.
What most perplexes me is that everyone else in the class seems to enjoy the male presence. Last week the instructor even named a dance move after the smelly boy. He doesn't even come to the whole class! And have I mentioned that he REEKS? I know people sweat at the gym, and I don't expect it to smell like roses, but this guy either doesn't wear deodorant or doesn't wash his shirt -- or more likely -- both. Crusty sweat stains speak for themselves.
I hate to be (reverse) sexist, but I'd think the smell -- and the awkwardness -- would be alleviated if the class were reserved for women. Not officially, of course; that would probably be illegal (or Curves). But it should just be understood. And if you are a boy who just loves to dance, at least show some respect -- for the schedule and our bodies, especially our delicate noses.
The reason I really like the gym is that it has an amazing variety of classes. I never get bored, even though I've been working out five days a week. What I do get at least once a week though is extremely irritated -- by the smelly boy, who consistently crashes the cardio dance class.
I like the class because it's supposed to be fun, but my dancing career ended with junior high school poms, and I'm not so comfortable shaking my booty in the presence of random men (at least when I'm sober and wearing a lot of spandex). I much prefer the aerobic atmosphere of women, united by shamelessness and gender.
The smelly boy waltzes into class halfway through, so he never learns the routine with us. He just watches us for a while and then "picks it up." Last week he sat on a bench that happened to be about a foot away from my face when we turned to the back of the room and did a move called "cleavage shot." My enthusiasm for the routine -- and my workout -- suffered as I tried to avoid eye contact. I thought I would get some relief when smelly boy finally joined the group, but he proceeded to pick a spot about two feet TOO CLOSE to me. Not only did his unbearable stench waft toward me every time we turned and dropped to the floor for push-ups (Ms. Fitness USA-style), but he ALMOST KICKED ME more than once. Sidenote: It was not a full class. There was PLENTY OF ROOM.
Then toward the end of the class, smelly boy waved in one of his friends who was lurking outside the door. At first I thought he was going to join us too -- which would have been annoying enough -- but no, he just STOOD THERE AND WATCHED for five or 10 minutes. All the booty-shaking, the cleavage-showing, the body-rolling. Just. Watched. I'm now getting the sceevies all over again just thinking about it.
What most perplexes me is that everyone else in the class seems to enjoy the male presence. Last week the instructor even named a dance move after the smelly boy. He doesn't even come to the whole class! And have I mentioned that he REEKS? I know people sweat at the gym, and I don't expect it to smell like roses, but this guy either doesn't wear deodorant or doesn't wash his shirt -- or more likely -- both. Crusty sweat stains speak for themselves.
I hate to be (reverse) sexist, but I'd think the smell -- and the awkwardness -- would be alleviated if the class were reserved for women. Not officially, of course; that would probably be illegal (or Curves). But it should just be understood. And if you are a boy who just loves to dance, at least show some respect -- for the schedule and our bodies, especially our delicate noses.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Ringbook
Remember when girls used to rub in celebrate their engagements by shaking their limp-wristed, newly bejeweled hands in your face? Well despite the fact that I'm of a certain age, I actually haven't seen that in a while. What I have seen is its online equivalent on Facebook.
Feeling particularly stalker-y this morning, I clicked on a friend of a friend's profile whose engagement announcement showed up in my newsfeed. Then did a doubletake. The picture she had uploaded of her ring was actually her PROFILE PICTURE. An entire life -- reduced to half a finger and a politically incorrect piece of jewelry.
Now, I know, er, assume it's very exciting to get engaged ... but I think the urge to shout from the rooftops should be checked. E-mailing a picture of your ring to people who ask is totally acceptable; posting a picture to Facebook is slightly obnoxious; changing your profile picture... completely ridiculous.
Feeling particularly stalker-y this morning, I clicked on a friend of a friend's profile whose engagement announcement showed up in my newsfeed. Then did a doubletake. The picture she had uploaded of her ring was actually her PROFILE PICTURE. An entire life -- reduced to half a finger and a politically incorrect piece of jewelry.
Now, I know, er, assume it's very exciting to get engaged ... but I think the urge to shout from the rooftops should be checked. E-mailing a picture of your ring to people who ask is totally acceptable; posting a picture to Facebook is slightly obnoxious; changing your profile picture... completely ridiculous.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Another reason you should hate MTV's Skins
MTV's new show Skins has lost a third sponsor and may be in violation of child pornography laws. As we learned from Jersey Shore, controversy often does more good than harm for generating buzz and viewership - lost advertising revenue aside, I predict the show will, regrettably, be a hit.
What producers can't applaud themselves for, however, is authenticity. Maybe it's because I grew up in the Midwest... but I'm completely befuddled by reviews like this Newsweek article that claim Skins "may be the most realistic show on television." Despite, or perhaps due to the fact that producer Bryan Elsley created the show with his 19-year-old son and employs teenage consultants and actors, I think it comes across as more teenage fantasy than reality. (Disclaimer: I couldn't sit through the whole thing, which says a lot, considering my usual zeal for trashy television.)
Consider, for example, the cheerleading scene... Apparently at Skins' high school, the cheerleaders wear bras for tops and end routines by groping the flier - who happens to be a lipstick lesbian.
The most realistic thing in the scene is the mascot perched upon each perky breast, which looks A LOT like the pride of UW-Madison - Bucky Badger.
If someone at MTV isn't locked up for child pornography, can they at least be prosecuted for defiling our beloved mascot? "The coolest school in America" should not be associated with this silly little show.
What producers can't applaud themselves for, however, is authenticity. Maybe it's because I grew up in the Midwest... but I'm completely befuddled by reviews like this Newsweek article that claim Skins "may be the most realistic show on television." Despite, or perhaps due to the fact that producer Bryan Elsley created the show with his 19-year-old son and employs teenage consultants and actors, I think it comes across as more teenage fantasy than reality. (Disclaimer: I couldn't sit through the whole thing, which says a lot, considering my usual zeal for trashy television.)
Consider, for example, the cheerleading scene... Apparently at Skins' high school, the cheerleaders wear bras for tops and end routines by groping the flier - who happens to be a lipstick lesbian.
The most realistic thing in the scene is the mascot perched upon each perky breast, which looks A LOT like the pride of UW-Madison - Bucky Badger.
If someone at MTV isn't locked up for child pornography, can they at least be prosecuted for defiling our beloved mascot? "The coolest school in America" should not be associated with this silly little show.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Dear UPS, I don't have a housewife
I've come to the conclusion that UPS has not updated its business model or customer service strategy since the 1950s. Despite my extensive experience with online shopping, I still cannot figure out when and how some items are simply dropped off inside the security door of my apartment building (by USPS?), while others require someone to be home to buzz in a UPS driver.
As a result, sometimes I'm pleasantly surprised to find an Amazon box full of books, for example, conveniently placed below my mailbox. But after other online splurges, I'm plagued by UPS slips stuck to my door, infuriating conversations with customer service and sadistic delivery windows.
Although the missed delivery slip from a UPS driver gives you a reasonable idea of when they will be back the next day, between 10 a.m. and 12:30 p.m., for example, if the driver forgets to leave a slip, which has happened twice this month, the customer service representative gives you a window of 9 a.m. to 7 p.m. What kind of a window is that?? And why does the driver know but customer service does not? I would think a simple computer system could solve this mystery.
As a result, sometimes I'm pleasantly surprised to find an Amazon box full of books, for example, conveniently placed below my mailbox. But after other online splurges, I'm plagued by UPS slips stuck to my door, infuriating conversations with customer service and sadistic delivery windows.
Although the missed delivery slip from a UPS driver gives you a reasonable idea of when they will be back the next day, between 10 a.m. and 12:30 p.m., for example, if the driver forgets to leave a slip, which has happened twice this month, the customer service representative gives you a window of 9 a.m. to 7 p.m. What kind of a window is that?? And why does the driver know but customer service does not? I would think a simple computer system could solve this mystery.
And if you know you won't be home for the delivery and call UPS to let them know, you have to pay $6 to have them deliver to a different address or at a later date. I know it's only $6, but this also pisses me off. Especially when the package is a gift to you from someone else. I don't think my mom meant to have me pay a fee to get my birthday present.
What really irritates me though is that I have the benefit of quite a bit of flexibility for an office worker. I can usually work from home when I need to, so it should be easy for me to get packages. If the UPS driver could manage to remember to stick the missed delivery slip to my door, I should be able to arrange to be home by the third delivery. Yet 80 percent of deliveries turn into utter nightmares.
During one heated phone call to the terminally unhelpful customer service number, I was told in an exasperated tone that "all I needed to do" was make sure "someone" was home between 9 a.m. and 7 p.m. Who do they expect to be home all day? Unfortunately I'm not a housewife, and I'm not married to a housewife. Perhaps UPS is not aware of the fact that most households of this century are made up of two people (or one) who are working or commuting during those hours.
Market research... computer systems... customer service that actually provides a service - these are things most businesses today have gotten the hang of. Might do UPS - and its customers - some good to get on board.
What really irritates me though is that I have the benefit of quite a bit of flexibility for an office worker. I can usually work from home when I need to, so it should be easy for me to get packages. If the UPS driver could manage to remember to stick the missed delivery slip to my door, I should be able to arrange to be home by the third delivery. Yet 80 percent of deliveries turn into utter nightmares.
During one heated phone call to the terminally unhelpful customer service number, I was told in an exasperated tone that "all I needed to do" was make sure "someone" was home between 9 a.m. and 7 p.m. Who do they expect to be home all day? Unfortunately I'm not a housewife, and I'm not married to a housewife. Perhaps UPS is not aware of the fact that most households of this century are made up of two people (or one) who are working or commuting during those hours.
Market research... computer systems... customer service that actually provides a service - these are things most businesses today have gotten the hang of. Might do UPS - and its customers - some good to get on board.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Offices are for pretending to work, not pretending to wash dishes
As if it's not depressing enough to come into the office in the morning, for the last week I've had to stare at this oatmeal encrusted bowl of dishwater while I'm making coffee. I'm becoming increasingly irritated.
I'm not asking myself, what's wrong with people? I'm asking myself, what's wrong with my office?? Everyone knows people are disgusting and lazy, but cubicle culture is supposed to be designed to hide these attributes. An office is no place for dish soap, sponges or scrub brushes. These things are meant to accumulate germs and scum and crust in your home, where the smallest number of innocent bystanders are affected. Your roommate has the option to look for tidier accommodations when your lease is up; your significant other has the option to withhold affections until you empty the dishwasher; but in this economy, your co-workers don't have many options when it comes to avoiding your filth.
But I don't want to place the blame on the filthy employee. It's the office's fault for providing filthy employees with "cleaning" tools, which quickly morph into germ spreading tools when left to the masses. Who is responsible for switching out the grody sponges? Who is responsible for putting a time limit on "soaking" dishes in the sink? These things are impossible to determine in an office setting. I may resolve the whole issue by tossing all dishwashing-related items into the garbage, along with the stale oatmeal bowl.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Down with conference calls
Not sure if I've mentioned before, but I hate conference calls. Ninety-five percent of the time they are a complete waste of time, and even when useful information is shared, I'd still prefer an e-mail exchange because then you have a record of it. I specify useful information because I don't really care what the weather is like in New York today or what someone I've never met in person is doing this weekend.
The worst thing about conference calls is the beginning. I don't know if it's just my company, but every call I'm on starts with roll. I have to admit even when there are four people on a call I detest saying, "Hi it's Amy" after a moment of pause in hopes that noone will talk over me. But on calls with more than 10 people I think roll should be outlawed. It takes forever and is absolute insanity. An experience I had last week:
Me: Hi this is Amy
Call leader: Great, hi Dave.
Me: Amy from Internet Marketing is here.
Leader: Hi Jennifer, and did someone else join?
Me: Amy? From Internet Marketing?
Leader: Hello Angela, how are you?
Amy: Click.
Well, I didn't really hang up, but I wanted to... "Leaders" who habitually squawk, "Hi who else joined?" should be barred from organizing calls - or fired. Ten minutes into the call we haven't gotten anywhere and I want to crawl under my cubicle and cry.
I'd really rather not talk on the phone ever because I sound like a 12-year-old, both in terms of voice and ability to put coherent thoughts together. I'd much rather take the time to write an e-mail and then proofread several times to decrease the chance of sounding like an idiot. Now why can't the business world adapt to my special needs? Is that too much to ask??
The worst thing about conference calls is the beginning. I don't know if it's just my company, but every call I'm on starts with roll. I have to admit even when there are four people on a call I detest saying, "Hi it's Amy" after a moment of pause in hopes that noone will talk over me. But on calls with more than 10 people I think roll should be outlawed. It takes forever and is absolute insanity. An experience I had last week:
Me: Hi this is Amy
Call leader: Great, hi Dave.
Me: Amy from Internet Marketing is here.
Leader: Hi Jennifer, and did someone else join?
Me: Amy? From Internet Marketing?
Leader: Hello Angela, how are you?
Amy: Click.
Well, I didn't really hang up, but I wanted to... "Leaders" who habitually squawk, "Hi who else joined?" should be barred from organizing calls - or fired. Ten minutes into the call we haven't gotten anywhere and I want to crawl under my cubicle and cry.
I'd really rather not talk on the phone ever because I sound like a 12-year-old, both in terms of voice and ability to put coherent thoughts together. I'd much rather take the time to write an e-mail and then proofread several times to decrease the chance of sounding like an idiot. Now why can't the business world adapt to my special needs? Is that too much to ask??
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
