Gross Day

Incident #1:  The first thing I noticed when I went into the bathroom stall at work were nail clippings on the floor.  I studied them for a moment, and then a wave of horrible realizations washed down upon me.  These clippings are evidence that, 1.) someone was clipping his fingernails on the toilet, 2.) in a public restroom, 3.) onto the floor, 4.) leaving it for others to see/clean up.  Serioulsy, WTF is wrong with some people?   

Welcome to the bathroom!

At first I thought they were toenails, because some of them were really big.  But then I realized (hoped!) they must have just come from someone with really big thumbs.  Because if those were toenail clippings, it adds a whole new level of creepiness.  Aside from the horrible image of someone sitting on a public toilet and clipping toenails, it also means the person was barefoot.  In a men's room stall. If you've ever seen a public restroom men's stall, you know the last thing you want to be in there is barefoot. 

++++

Incident #2: I dropped a library book into a public toilet.

There was a good reason why I had the book with me, and it was not, as one would assume, to read it.  (I don't deny that I read on the toilet, but not usually in a public bathroom.)  You see, I was at our satellite campus giving a library presentation, and I had my portfolio with handouts and notes in it, and a library book to read during the dinner break between classes.  After my classes, I had to go to the bathroom before my long drive home.  I stepped into the stall and tried to figure out where to put my portfolio and book.  (This is one of my biggest complaints about public bathroom stalls-- there is never a good place to put my stuff.  It's even worse when there's no hook on the door to hang up my coat. Then I usually have to place it in the corner on the floor. Ugh.)

Where do I put my stuff?

So I placed the portfolio on top of the toilet paper dispenser, and it was held up against the wall by the handicap rail.  (Yes, I was using the handicap stall.  No one else was in there.)   

Like this, only imagine the toilet paper in a metal box dispenser. 

There was no good place for the book, though, so I tried to rest it on top of the rail, up against the portfolio.  Bad idea.  The book was too thick for the rail and tumbled down, and to my horror it fell into the open toilet.

I acted fast, quickly fishing the book out.  Luckily, the toilet water was "clean"-- it hadn't been used yet. Only the top edge of the book was submerged for a few scant seconds.  If the Five Second Rule applied to books falling in toilets, then I would have been safe.  A kitten bookmark I'd been using fell back into the toilet, and I let it go, figuring it was beyond saving.  Collateral damage.  I used toilet paper to wipe off the book.  The glossy cover dried pretty easily, but the top 2-3 inches of the pages were varying degrees of wet.

I washed my hands and then held the book under the air dryer, fanning the pages under it to get them dry.

A sanitary way to dry your hands, or a book you just dropped into the toilet

===

The book has dried, and it really doesn't seem to be in that bad of shape.  Some of the pages are a little crinkly on top, the way they get when there's slight water damage.  But other than that, it's a perfectly serviceable book.

Not my library book

But.

It fell into the toilet.  I'm perfectly willing to pay for it and tell the library I damaged it, but what I'm reluctant to do is tell them how I damaged it.  "Um, sorry, but I dropped this into the toilet."  Can't I just tell them it fell into some water?  That's not a lie.  Because if you look at it, it looks fine.  I've seen much worse. But they probably have a right to know what kind of wet it got.



The other issue: I usually read my library books when I'm eating.  During breakfast and lunch I will read.  That means that the book I dropped into the toilet is near my food.  On the table.  This should gross me out, but here's the thing. I guarantee that you've touched, eaten, and somehow come into contact with much less  
sanitary things than my library book.  It reminds me of a study I once heard about.  A student had tested the bacteria levels in a fast-food bathroom and compared to the levels in the drink dispenser.  There were more germs in the drink dispenser.  You see, a bathroom gets cleaned regularly.  Other things don't. (I wasn't able to find the original study, but I found another one that said fecal material was found on drink dispensers: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/01/07/fecal-bacteria-found-in-n_n_413733.html.)

I don't point all this out to gross you out.  Just to say that, where germs are concerned, our fears are often misplaced.

+++++

Incident #3: When I came home from a long day of toilet mayhem, I went into my bedroom to change out of my work clothes. I saw that one of my cats had puked on my Nikes in the closet.  Lovely.  I often come home to cat puke, but it's usually on the carpet.  Puking into my shoes is a new one.

Fur and puke corridor: The usual place where cats leave their "surprises"

Thanks, kitties.  That's the cherry on top of my shit sundae.  

Online Creeps

I have a new online addiction: laughing at creeps on the intarwebz.

The A(n)nals of Online Dating not only has a fun juvenile title (heh, heh, you said "a(n)nal!"), but it's a fascinating study in online behavior, mating rituals, and hilarious taunting-- all with a point system!

The premise is simple: they take online dating profiles and messages sent by real people (mostly men) and make fun of them.  Point out all the mistakes they make, then add up the points.  For example:

why can’t I find a good looking woman with her life in order to DATE and be in a RELATIONSHIP with??? Am I too ugly? I would have thought having a stable job, place of my own, car, Harley, dog and no kids would be a good thing??? but it seems that those things don’t matter. I think I am a decent looking guy. I’m not sure what I have to do to attract the right woman. I’m not picky, but yet I don’t want someone that weighs more than i do. As long as you are pretty in your own way.. have all your teeth and they are not yellow… Is it too much to ask for a pretty woman that I am proud to be with and have a little arm candy??
I don’t know what I am doing wrong, but being single sux a$$ and I wanna change that! I don’t wanna get married right away, need to find the right one first. I’m just stressed and glad I don’t own a gun… I might get depressed and do something stupid with it………
__________________________________________

+10 for whoaaaaa suicidal! You want to know what you are doing wrong? That is what you are doing wrong.

+6 for you know what else you are doing wrong? Not caring at all about women as actual people. I mean, I can’t fault you for having impossible standards (although the “no fatties” thing is kind of… come on). But maybe be more picky? Have some sense of what you want a partner to be like outside of physical appearance? Because “Sweet Jesus, ANYONE WILL DO AT THIS POINT” has gotten surprisingly few people laid.

+4 because the “right woman” is the same thing as “arm candy.” LOL women. My friend said that maybe I should treat them like they’re “people” and not decorative accessories. Can you believe that guy? Hilarious.

TOTAL POINTS: 20.

It's amazing to think there are so many clueless people out there.  I'm sure some of the entries can be explained by bad jokes, childish pranks, drugs, or some weird cultural differences. (Sometimes it's obvious the writer is not a native speaker of English.)

But based on my own experience with online dating, I have to believe that many of these entries are actual real people who sincerely want to find a mate.  And that is just sad, so very sad. How can so many men be so clueless about how these things work?

I say "men" because, although there is the occasional female profile featured on this site, for the most part it's guys who are offensive idiots.  And now I truly understand why so many women have to be so cautious when they date.  I'm terrified for them.  Because there are some disturbing fucking nutjobs out there.  

Here's another sample:

If you are not a woman of my race, I’m not sexually attracted to black woman it’s my choice and I don’t have to explain to anyone why I choose this, so all other woman fell free to write me back if your educated and you don’t have a house full of children cause I don’t have any of my own!!
_________________________________________________

+6 for putting it right out there with the racism.

+4 for “it’s my choice and I don’t have to explain to anyone why I choose this.” I think we all know why? And hopefully no one has to explain to you why you are still single.

+10 for “fell free to write me back if your educated.”

+5 for being willing to date ALL OTHER WOMEN. As long as they’re (or is it “their”?) educated. And not black. And not any other race except his. And don’t have kids. But anyone else, totally, date this guy. Until he has his own kids. Then it’s ok if you have kids too. 

TOTAL POINTS: 25.

I could post 50 more, but I need to break this addiction.

Universe!

At the public library the other day I picked up three nonfiction books.  The books were located in three completely different subject areas: from the Dewey 100's to the 500's to the 900's.

I love learning stuff.

Science isn't my only passion.  I really should have been a writer/architect/tennis pro/evolutionary biologist/astronomer/cult leader. Oh, and I forgot linguist.

The latest thing to capture my attention has been The Universe.  The planets, the solar system, our galaxy, other galaxies, time, expansion, the Big Bang, the nature of everything-- where it comes from and where it's going to.  Huge doesn't even begin to describe our universe, and when I consider all the mysteries it contains it makes me a little dizzy.

It may look like a collection of penises, but these enormous "Pillars of Creation" are in the process of creating new stars.  Our entire solar system would fit into that tiny finger-like object on the left one.  That is a huge erection!

When I consider all these mysteries, it's easy to dismiss any of the petty problems in my life, or in the lives of the people around me, or of humanity itself, or of our planet.  We are smaller than tiny.  Things I fret about, like a tennis match or an election or saving the environment-- they mean nothing.  We may destroy our environment and that of many organisms on our planet, but the planet itself, we can't touch it. 

The Earth has survived much worse than a case of the humans.  We're like a small rash on a world that's been around long before us and will go on long after us.  And that world itself is just one tiny insignificant dot among of trillions and trillions of things spinning around in space.

Perhaps it's escapist, but I love that I have the luxury of considering the universe, of thinking about what's really going on in all those places we can't see, hear, or touch (or haven't seen, heard, or touched yet.)  It is almost like a drug the way it takes hold of my mind.

Maybe this is what God does for religious people-- makes them feel like they are one tiny part of something much greater and more mysterious.  For me, I'll take science and astronomy and science fiction-- stories and fantasies and possibilities based on what we already know about the laws of the universe-- and escape into that.            

Unreliable Narrators

I love memoirs, but after years and years of reading them I've finally learned to hone my bullshit detector.  The way someone tells a story-- how they present themselves and their view of the world-- often tells me as much about them as the content of their stories.

I was reminded of this by two recent books I've read.  The first, Chelsea Handler's My Horizontal Life: a Collection of One-Night Stands, was kind of like a mafia movie: I was fascinated by it, but her world is so far removed from my own that I couldn't imagine living in it myself.

I wasn't far into the book before I started to question the veracity of her stories.  I mean, how could one person have such a fabulous, drunken, orgiastic life?  A lot of her stories (or details) seemed ridiculously far-fetched, and as they piled up it made it harder and harder for me to believe them.  Her reputation as a reliable narrator was not helped by the fact that she openly lied to people in almost every story.  In one passage she even talks about how her lies kept getting her into trouble, so she made a resolution to stop lying when she was drunk.  (Sober lying she held on to.)

Handler is a comedian, so it's not like she's doing top-level journalism.  She's just telling funny stories, and she's really good at it.  Still, as I've said many times before, whether or not a story really happened is part of the story.  "IT REALLY HAPPENED!" accounts have a much lower bar than fiction.

I just don't like feeling like I'm being lied to, ya know?

+++++

The other book I just finished is Andre Aggasi's memoir, Open.

The thing I noticed from the very first page of this book is: WOW, can Andre tell a story!  A few years ago I read Pete Sampras' book (I don't remember the title and it's not worth looking up) and although it was mildly interesting from a tennis fans' perspective, it really wasn't a very gripping story.  Maybe Pete is just too private, or he really is as dry and boring as his reputation, but his book was stiff and wooden.

Agassi's book, on the other hand, jumps off the page at you.  On the very first page he talks about how he hates tennis, and how he's always hated tennis.  What the what?  One of the best players in the history of the game hated it?  That's some interesting shit.

Although Agassi's book is much better written than Sampras', that doesn't necessarily mean that Andre's a better writer.  After all, these guys often work very closely with journalist/editors, if not outright ghostwriters. So I was under no illusions that Andre was a great writer.  But his voice was there, and it's definitely a more interesting and vibrant voice than Sampras'. Sampras may have been the more successful tennis player, but he can't touch Andre on personality.  

Sampras may have won more tennis, but Agassi has a better book

Even so, as Agassi's book progressed, my bullshit detector started to blink a little.  Details in the story seemed a little too convenient, like his childhood friend pointing to a magazine photo of Brooke Shields and saying, "She could be your wife one day."  (She became his first wife.)  Or when they were married, Brooke putting a picture of a very fit Steffi Graf on their refrigerator to motivate herself to get in shape.  (Graf became his second wife.)

These are amazing coincidences, and the details may be true, but maybe they leave out details-- like maybe Brooke was one of dozens of celebrities his friend said this about.  After 10 years of librarianship and teaching information literacy, I'm finally realizing all the subtle ways that people manipulate information to fit their narrative. (Also, I follow a lot of politics.) 

And sometimes people just outright lie.  Just like Chelsea Handler, Agassi admits to lying in his book.  He tells how he lied in interviews because he just said what he thought the interviewer wanted to hear.  ("I've always loved tennis!") He can't admit difficult things to people close to him, so he lies.  We all do it on occasion, but in this book it happens enough to add to the overall sense that he's not quite leveling with the reader.  

A tennis player is a different kind of celebrity than a comedian.  They usually have publicists to control their image in the media.  Plus there's the simple issue of privacy.  We're simply not entitled to know every intimate thing that happens in a celebrity's life.

But still, I often wondered as I read Agassi's book how accurate it was.  No doubt it was a good story, if a bit overwrought at times.  But how much of it could I trust?

In his acknowledgments at the end of the book, Andre writes quite a bit about the writer he collaborated with.  It seems this writer collected stories from Andre and was mostly responsible for the stellar writing.  Andre even wanted to include his name on the book as a co-author, but was talked out of it.  This is probably typical for a celebrity of his stature.  But it shows how even the book itself was misleading.  The whole time I was thinking about what a great story Andre tells, and it turns out someone else was taking his stories and shaping them for him.      

I'm a Librarian

The student was just loitering at my desk, trying to strike up a conversation when he asked, in that Bill-And-Ted's Excellent Adventure tone of his, "What do you... do you mind being called a librarian?"

I answered, No, I don't mind at all.  In fact, to be a librarian you need a Master of Library Science degree.  "Not everyone who works in a library is a librarian," I said, "just like not everyone who works in a hospital is a doctor."

The student said, "Wow! You just blew my mind!"

+++++

It's not that I equate what I do with saving lives, or that people in hospitals who aren't doctors (and people in libraries who aren't librarians) don't do important work.  Although several students have actually called me a "lifesaver" when I help them find what they're looking for, I don't have a God complex.  Hey, I'm not giving you a kidney-- I'm just finding you a book. 

I think my biggest pet peeve about being a librarian is how people misuse the title.  A librarian is more than just someone who works in a library.  I cringe when a part-time student worker in the library refers to herself as a librarian.  Librarian is a title I spent two years of graduate-level coursework to earn.

+++++

Being called a librarian certainly isn't an insult, as the student's question implied.  I was more amused than annoyed by his question, though.  He was so earnest and curious, I couldn't help but appreciate how I had opened his mind.  He kept repeating.. "I had no idea..."

Invisible Obama

I needed a break from politics.  It was just too depressing to hear all the lies, misrepresentations, anger, and petty squabbling coming from both parties.

This was difficult to do, since I listen to NPR every morning and during much of my commute, and my two favorite TV shows are The Daily Show and Colbert Report.  Watching them was not fun anymore, though, because instead of making me laugh at conservatives, it made me angry.  Angry at their bullying, misrepresentation, hypocrisy, and propaganda.

Listening to the speeches at the GOP convention made me seethe with anger. Not because they held different opinions than me, but at how they mangled the facts.  

Then along came a chair.

Clint Eastwood's painful, cringe-worthy performance of a blathering old man berating a chair on national TV brought out the absurdity of the conservative position toward Obama.  And watching Jon Stewart eviscerate this performance made my day:

Eastwood finally revealed the cognitive dissonance that is the beating heart and soul and fiction of this party. They're so far gone, they're hammering Obama for things Bush did... [like starting the war in Afghanistan].... This president has issues and there are very legitimate debates to be had about his policies and actions, successes and/or failures as president...but I could never wrap my head around why the world and the president that Republicans describe bears so little resemblance to the world and the president that I experience, and now I know why.

There is a President Obama that only Republicans can see.

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I've also struggled trying to wrap my head around this invisible Obama.  I've gotten into arguments with people who don't like Obama because he's "arrogant", "pompous", "elitist", "a snob".  Despite the fact that this "snob" was the bi-racial son of a single mother and worked his way through Harvard Law School, then instead of making lots of money in the private sector, started out as a community organizer. These same people who label Obama a "snob" have no problem choosing the millionaire son of a governor over him.

Still, calling someone nasty names is just an opinion, not a fact.  If you feel someone is arrogant, there's no amount of evidence that will dissuade you.  However, there is also a complete fiction around Obama that seems to be gripping entire sections of our population.  He's a socialist.  He's not a U.S. citizen.  He wants to destroy America.  I actually had a family member tell me they think Obama is a Muslim.  Well, there's really no way to have a rational discussion with someone like that. It's like arguing with someone who thinks the moon landing was fake or that 9/11 was an "inside job" (whatever that even means.)

Such theories are ignorant, paranoid, and borderline racist.  Because our president looks different and has a funny name, I believe people are more willing to ascribe things to him that have no basis in reality. (Not that there's anything wrong with being Muslim or socialist, but the people who use those labels sling them as insults.)  In fact, whenever I hear people call him words like "elitist," I can't help but think that that is code for "uppity."  

What angers and saddens me the most about these attacks on Obama is that people have lame, misguided reasons for opposing him.  If you can give me a fair, informed opinion of his policies and why you oppose them, then fine, go ahead and hate him.  If you value your narrow interpretation of Christianity over science and education, he's not your candidate.  If you oppose abortion more than you value women's rights and health, he's not on your side.  If you're against gay rights, he's not so fabulous. If you think large corporations care about your health and well-being, and that the government is evil and has no role to play in solving our problems, don't give Obama your support.

If you want America to go back to the way it was in the 1950's, where Blacks, Hispanics, women, and other minorities knew their place, Obama's not for you.  I mean, seriously, can you believe that in 2012 we're actually having a political debate over birth control?  Republicans have turned a simple, fair mandate that requires all insurance policies to cover birth control (the same way they cover Viagra) into a battle over "religious freedom." ("Religious freedom" for them means "forcing my brand of Christianity on others.")

Let me stress this, because it blows my mind: Republicans don't think birth control is a women's health issue.  I don't know how any moderate woman in America who cares about her rights can reward them for that. Argh!  Poll after poll shows that among almost every demographic other than white men, Obama is leading.  As a white man myself, I don't know how the Republicans can continue to survive as a party that serves such narrow interests. 

Sorry, I have to cut myself off or I'll never stop ranting.  I could list dozens of similar issues that just make my blood boil.  And I hate that.  I hate that it's impossible to have rational, nuanced discussions about politics and how to solve our nation's problems. Because it feels like all I'm doing is playing defense, defending Obama and liberal policies.  And I'll admit it comes from both sides. I also get pissed off when I hear people on the Left say ridiculous shit.  There are times when The Daily Show oversimplifies a complicated issue in order to win rhetorical points.  That annoys me.   

I just want people to be fair.  And I don't see much fairness right now.  Sometimes I just want to give up.  Fuck it.  I have a good job, a comfortable life, health insurance, a supportive family.  I'm incredibly lucky to be living in this time and place. I've got mine, why should I care about people who are too ignorant to understand what's in their own best interest, what's in the interest of our country?  Why do so many poor and middle class people vehemently fight for the rights of rich white men? It makes me want to give up.

As John Steinbeck is purported to have said, Socialism never took root in America because the poor see themselves not as an exploited proletariat, but as temporarily embarrassed millionaires.

++++

Both sides want you to believe that if the Other Guy wins the election, it will be disaster.  The End of America.  I'll tell you a secret.  I'm trying to convince myself that a Romney presidency wouldn't be so catastrophic.  He loves America just as much as Obama does.  He wants to succeed.  And most candidates usually have to move to the middle to get anything done.  Romney was the Republican governor of a liberal state who instituted the model for Obamacare.  He's a centrist.  And to be honest, Romney might be able to get more done simply because Democrats are more willing to work with a Republican president than vice-versa.  All that Obama's accomplished the past four years (and it's been a lot, despite the GOP's empty chair narrative), he's had to do with Republicans blocking him at every turn.  He's bent over backwards to accommodate them, and they still shit all over him.  Presumably they wouldn't do that to Romney.  And if they did, then let the country see what asshat obstructionists they really are.  Ugh, sorry, another rant. 

Whoever wins the election, the world won't end.  Obviously, I know who I'm voting for and why.  I have solid, informed, legitimate policy reasons to think he's the better candidate.  It's not a popularity contest to me. At the risk of sounding arrogant, I believe my reasons are more rational than most of the people who are voting for the other guy.  I don't have to turn one candidate into a caricature in order to vote against him.  

My choice is not between a real person and a chair.

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Social Scientist

I was trying to tell someone recently about the Five (+ 1) Tenets of Timicism, and I think I got most of them right.  I'm such a horrible timvangelist, I have trouble remembering the tenets of my very own cult.  (After a quick review I see that I forgot the third tenet, Humor. D'oh!)

Anyway, after my spiel my friend replied that Timicism sounds more like the rules of a social scientist than a religion.

Hm.  I kinda like that description.

Timicism: the "religion" for social scientists.