Things I Hate About My New Neighbors

As if on cue, just as I completed my patio paradise, something came along to blow it up. July 4th weekend, I got new neighbors. I didn't even realize the house next door had been vacant, the lady that lived there pretty much kept to herself. All of a sudden, raggedy pick up trucks were all over the scene, unloading a house full of bad decisions.

First, they unloaded the trampoline. Then the see saw. Then the various yard-ape accessories. Next, they applied Round-Up to the ENTIRE yard. Easier than cutting the grass, I guess. And really, a dirt yard seems to be what they are used to. All of the yard accessories were placed right next to the fence, so that as they enjoyed their things, they could keep an eye on what was happening in my yard as well. Neat. Oh! Then, the extra large batting cage. After all the hard work in arranging Six Flags Over Tipton, they relaxed by riding their four wheeler around the front yard. The lot is maybe 1/4 of an acre...and that is being generous. A child's bedroom suite sat out in the front yard, still on the trailer, for 3 days (and nights). That's gonna smell real nice when Junior finally gets to sleep in his own bed. There are three adults and what appears to be two kids, a young girl and a large (weight problem) pre-teen boy. It appears to be an arrangement that is quite common in these parts: early thirties/late twenties male, late to mid twenties female, late teen girl (an early start child or wayward sister), her toddler, and someone's loud obnoxious boy child who is obviously managed with food. It is a two bedroom home.

Terrific. Yes, I am a fairly intolerant person...I will be the first to admit that. I don't give people the benefit of the doubt, I pass judgement immediately...and guess what? It usually turns out to be right. I can spot a "situation" from miles away. And now, I have a "situation" next door. Next door to my tidy little home, in my tidy little neighborhood. I have an idea that this situation is fresh from the Hatchie River bottom. Something tells me that they lost their trailer, either to the Spring floods or the bank. Were there not any rental properties available in the county? On any given day, there are various vehicles in various states of disrepair parked in the front yard. Each night, there's a party on the 10'X10' deck. And all their rowdy friends are coming over tonight, to quote Bocephus.

So, in honor of my new neighbors, I have compiled a list of things I hate about them. This helps me laugh about the situation, until I can get a nice privacy fence built.

I hate:
1. Their olde English lettered tatoos.
2. Their Nickleback cd collection.
3. Their Fingerhut wicker bathroom collection complete with the "BATH" clock.
4. Their "Intimidator" Dale Earnhardt velvet wall hanging.
5. Their "Bless This Mess" kitchen wall hanging.
6. The velveteen waterwheel scene couch with wooden arms, complete with rings from the countless sweating Milwaukee's Best cans.
7. The shaved heads on the males, to help with the apparent lice issues.
8. The framed print hanging above the waterbed, an angel helping the two small children cross the rickety bridge...a hostess gift from the Home Interiors party.
9. The shellaced wooden "taters" and onions holder.
10. The cobalt blue and fuschia hair feathers that mama is saving up for.
11. The GED study guides.
12. The empty Dr Pepper two liters, bags of Doritos, and Oreo crumbs that litter the living room. All name brand because Junior's seasoned palate KNOWS the difference.
13. The high dollar Nissan Armada that they all spill out of during their weekly trips to the Cash Advance.
14. Their dream vacation to Magic Springs.
15. Their tan sheets...the after effect of hanging out in the dirt yard.
16. Their poor man's lottery of athletic ability improving gear...here's hoping their fat kid can go on to the MLB, NBA, or NFL to pull them out of poverty.
17. Their flagrant disregard of the leash law for their dingy dog.
18. The tension of having two hens in the roost.
19. The thick french manicured acrylics that are a week overdue for a fill-in.
and finally:
20: The $578 in combined food stamps that they unofficially receive.

Quick to pass judgement? Always. Accurate judgment? Maybe. Probably. Could it be worse? Of course. I can accept the fact that not everyone lives like I do...privately, neatly, and considerately. And I completely understand that my rights end where another's begin. And, apparently, serenity ends at the fence line. So, for now, I will just not wear my eyeglasses while outside; that way the line of demarcation is blurred into a jumble of earth tones and wife beaters.

Christmas Movie Trivia

My Bff loves her some Christmas movies. I do not. Each day she posts Christmas Movie Trivia questions on her Facebook, and is offering a Starbuck's gift card to the person who answers the most questions correctly. Thus far, I have answered none (correctly). The problem is, she posts questions about shitty movies. There are only three holiday movies (tops) that I can sit through. None were made in the last decade. She refuses to post questions about these movies, preferring to use the likes of "Fred Claus" and "The Santa Clause" instead. I would rather gauge my own eyes out than sit through that. But, judging from the response that she gets, I am in the minority. So, in true BFF fashion, I will do my own quiz. Here.

And now I present: The FormerMeanGirl Holiday Movie Trivia Quiz
(I call it a quiz, not a contest, because no one is going to win anything...sorry, times is tough.)

1. In "It's a Wonderful Life", when young George Bailey gets slapped upside the head by his senile pharmacist boss, what flavor is the jelly that comes out of his bad ear?

2. In "Home For The Holidays" (the good one with Holly Hunter), who approved that awful version of "Evil Ways" that plays in the intro?

3. In "Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer" (claymation version), who hid Santa's Paxil?

4. In "Frosty The Snowman" (cartoon version), where is the school counselor when all these kids are following an imaginary snowman around town?

5. Follow up question for "Frosty The Snowman", how much should the dosage of Karen's Risperdal increase to prevent any further hallucinations?

6. In "A Charlie Brown Christmas", why does Linus sound exactly like Kevin Bacon during his monologue about the nativity?

7. In "A Christmas Story", where is the buffet with pizza in the Chinese joint they eat at in the end?

8. In "Home Alone", why were they so worried that they left that brat at home? I would have done that on purpose.

9. In "The Nightmare Before Christmas", what the feck was Tim Burton taking? And where can I get some of that?

10. In "Christmas Vacation", who actually owned the camper that Randy Quaid squatted in?

And there you have it folks. You're welcome.

Facebook Misuse

Currently, I am listening to a news broadcast about the new privacy measures on Facebook.  Again?  Why must we keep revisiting this?  Am I the only person who understands that if you don't want to put your information out there, don't use social media?!  It's true, some people don't understand how Facebook works.  The whole concept of Facebook is putting your shit out there, no?  If you want to keep your information to yourself, get a datebook, or a diary.  I equate this with shameless media whoring followed by pissing and moaning about lack of privacy (sideways glance at you, Jon and Kate).  Conversely, since Facebook has become the Burger King of social media, I would like to suggest a change to make it more convenient for moi; since really, that is what it's all about anyway.  I would like for Facebook to take measures to protect me from other people's information.  I am mature and educated enough to understand that if I don't want anyone to know things about me, I won't broadcast them on the internet.  But what about the daily barage of useless and often cringe inducing tidbits that hog valuable screen space?  I have identified 7 types of Facebook users that I would like to be protected from:

1.  "I Thought Facebook Was a Computerized Dayrunner"
We all know this person.  Our friend.  Or not, maybe just the girl that sat behind us in 11th grade American History.  She missed the memo on what Facebook is meant for.  It is a catch-up tool.  It replaces the chintzy holiday "Here Is What We Have Been Up To" letter.  It virtually makes high school reunions irrelevant.  I am all about the highlights, just give me the run-down and we can be done.  I do not need a play by play of your morning.  For Example:
     CLUELESS McCLUELESS:  Just put breakfast in the oven, getting ready to work out, then will mow the yard and shower. After that, will prepare lunch and watch television.  After television is over, will log into facebook to check for comments on my exciting routine.

STOP IT!!!!  I do not care.  Yes, I realize I could "hide" these boring ass updates from my feed, but if I did that, my feed would be depressingly empty and alas, I would have nothing to make fun of. 

2.  "I Use Facebook to Concoct a Faux Fab Life In The Hopes That Others Will Envy Me"
Hello, Liar. 
     I will use the previous example, only faux fabbed up:
     LIAR McLIAR:  Prepared sumptuous poppy seed kiwi shallot quiche with Rachel Ray, now on my way to extreme frisbee and then bistro style lunch on the patio with my favorite person.  Watching a riveting social commentary later and then attending a social networking meet and greet.

Wow. Can I be you?  What the above status doesn't mention is that Rachel Ray was on the tv, the extreme frisbee is something that is going on as he drives through Shelby Farms in an effort to escape his boredom, and the social commentary is a "Friends" marathon on TBS, all prior to logging back into Facebook to see who's jealous. 

This is the sole reason I became of Facebook fan of:  Reading someone's status and thinking 'oh shut the hell up'

3.  "I Believe Everything I Hear"
This needs no introduction.
     CHICKEN LITTLE:  Hey Everybody, Facebook is about to start charging $14.95 a month to steal your toilet paper and give you Herpes.  If you don't want this, go to options and click No Herpes, change your setting to I'm A Doofus, and hit Kill Me.  Please repost!

Look, I bought into the Donate Hair to Stop The Gulf Oil Spill effort; but at least that was based in reality.  Some people do not deserve internet service.

4.  "I Use Facebook To Send Passive Aggressive Messages to My Frenemies"
Like a dance off, only using Facebook.
     GHOST POKER: Some people need to get a life.

Yes, I totally agree.  I wonder if the some people got the message.  Perhaps a more direct email or phone call would have been more efficient.  But, that defeats the purpose of this bogus status update.  GHOST POKER really just wants followers to believe that she is the type of person who tells it like it is...only just not directly.

5.  "My Life Would Be Meaningless Without Apps"
Ok, I admit, I fell under the spell of Farmville.  For a minute.  Then I got my life back.
     FARMER DUMBASS:  Hey guys, I need some corn! Please send me 10,304 coins so that I can buy more corn and thus make my life complete.  Also, my Mafia needs your help.  I am trying to assassinate Cornbread Gangsta and need 5 M-16s in my loot.  Please send me some brass knuckles.  And, if you have time, please support my virtual restaurant by eating the virtual Coq au vin that I virtually prepared. Thanks!

This is virtually pathetic.  FARMER DUMBASS needs to meet up with LIAR McLIAR and get a life...not a mafia. 

6.  "I Was The Only Kid With MTV"
Thanks for wasting feed space:
     BON JOVI'S BITCH:  Hey guys, check out this amazing video that I dug up on Youtube! It rocks!
                                         http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lDK9QqIzhwk

Really? Because I have never seen this before?  Wow, now that I have viewed your "discovery", I can now move on with my day...energized by Bon Jovi.  Thanks Asshat. 

7.  "Facebook Enables My Munchausen by Proxy and Malingering"
This bitch and her kids are ALWAYS sick. Always.
     ILL JILL: On our way to the ER with Dalton, for the 6th time today.  So tired of the little guy's nosebleeds.  Unfortunately, my arms aren't working today due to my Fibro-betes and I can't staunch the flow.  Hoping the CTMRICATPET scan shows something awful and little known so that we can continue to milk this for a few more months.

This is quite possibly my least favorite Facebook user, only because she is so easily enabled.  All it takes is one comment from:
     GULLIBLE BETTY: Aw, Jill, I am sooooo sorry girl!  Hope the little one and you feel better soon!  Let me know if y'all need anything; I have no life and am sitting on the ready to rush to your aid so that I can feel like a part of something bigger.

Get some gotdamned counseling people!

Dear Facebook, please deliver me from these people.  Most of them are my friends, and I love them, so help them see the error of their ways.  Look, I know my status updates are not going to inspire a Bravo TV reality show (unless there is a market for a show about a 36 year old woman who is easily annoyed), but I do try.  I acknowledge that I have probably been guilty of each and any of these misuses in my 3 year history; but I pledge to be considerate from now on.  So, while you are protecting me from privacy violations....please also protect me from other's privacy.  Their private matters (daily schedule, delusional disorders, OCD, abandonement issues, and health matters) are getting on my nerves. 

Oh, and one more thing...please, for the love of God and all that is right in the world, please remove the following from Facebook:  up close pics of dirty teeth, dancing cowboys, dancing uneducated mothers, dancing home refinancers, dancing debt consolidators, and finally, sad orphaned virtual animals who need my virtual parenthood.  K, thanks!

Author's note:  If you are reading this blog, and we are Facebook friends, please don't take offense.  You are in my "inner sanctum" and thus immune to my ray-gun of justice.  Unless you, of course, are consistently guilty of these Facebook sins...then, yes, I am talking about you.  Love you! XOXO

A Dose of Reality, Compliments of Hollywood

I have to be in the mood to watch a movie.  Once this mood hits, I will sit and watch movie after movie until it passes.  I have been lax in my movie watching lately, just not having the concentration to sit down and watch.  Over the weekend, the mood struck, so I rented "The Lovely Bones", "An Education", and "Up In The Air".  All movies that I had wanted to see when they came out, but alas, just wasn't in the mood.  All three movies were excellent.  I pulled for "Precious" to win the Oscar, but only because I had not yet seen "Up In The Air", which was the better movie.  Like most people, I see movies as a form of entertainment.  My opinion of what is entertaining; however, is quite different than most people.

My best friend is an avid movie watcher.  She has seen every movie released in the last decade, with the exception of most of the movies I have seen.  We just don't have the same taste.  I would rather claw my eyes out than see "Have You Heard About the Morgans", my friend would rather drink clorox than see "Precious".  She prefers her entertainment to be uplifting and light.  I find dark and real to be entertaining.  It is a matter of personal drama, she says.  She argues that she has enough personal drama in her life and wants to watch a movie to escape.  I say, you ain't got no personal drama like Precious. 

I feel that taking a glimpse inside dark and gritty reality makes us well rounded individuals.  Hey, it would be great if fat little bluebirds lit on my shoulders as I stroll down Main Street with my cookie cutter handsome fiance, Ryan Reynolds.  But, the harsh (harsher) reality of that is, it ain't gonna happen.  What a letdown.  Life seems so easy for Kate Hudson for two hours, and then the movie is over and guess what...my life still sucks!  Conversely, Jennifer Connelly sure had it rough in "Requiem For A Dream", but after the lights come up, my life is still okay!  Same life, different perspective.

In my day to day life, I rarely encounter drug dealers with hearts of gold.  I have yet to meet a drab sixteen year old girl who gets an updo and a new life that dumps her right on her ass.  I haven't yet crossed paths with an alcoholic on his last bender in Las Vegas.  But, now I don't have to!  I can encounter these characters without investing more than a couple of dollars and a couple of hours.  And, the memory of their plights stays with me, forever.  If someone says, "Harry Goldfarb", I am looking around for the skinny pale dude with nervous tics.  Quick, if I say "Jenny Perotti", who are you looking around to find?  How about "Noah Calhoun"?  Who's Oliver Martin?  WHO CARES?  These characters run together, until finally you can't tell the movies apart.  Something like "Save The Last Song in The Notebook because The Ugly Truth is Complicated without a Back-up Plan"

I wish I could kidnap my friend and force her to watch the following movies:

Precious, Heartburn, Sophie's Choice, The Kite Runner, Apocalypse Now, Leaving Las Vegas, The Reader, Grizzly Man, and Permanent Midnight (Before Ben Stiller sold his sense of humor).

The list could go on, but she has kids and stuff, so she would probably only have time for these.  However, after viewing these, I guarantee that she would go back to her life and see things in a different light.  I didn't just choose sad movies, I chose movies that particularly illustrate that things don't always work out.  One might argue that reality is just that.  True, in reality, things don't always work out but the alternative is usually tolerable.  The plots of these movies not only show that things don't always work out, but also that things can go horribly wrong and the process could suck.  Or not.  As in "Heartburn", there doesn't have to be a warm fuzzy marriage reconciliation at the end for the movie to be satisfying.  And one wouldn't normally think of Nazi Germany and satisfying together, but spending a couple of hours with Sophie and Stingo will make the sun shine brighter, I swear! 

I was disappointed in the Academy for Motion Picture's decision this year to broaden the field to include movies that the masses have seen.  I feel that by including blockbusters, the Academy lowered the standards.  I come off as a huge movie snob here, I realize that.  However, I AM a movie snob.  I will buy generic ketchup and wear Wet-N-Wild eyeliner all day long, but keep Miley Cyrus and Adam Sandler out of my dvd player.  The day I pay $9 to see Jim Carrey in a movie theater is the day I need my ass kicked.  In my opinion, the only reason "Date Night" should be in theaters is so that the morons can gather in there and allow me to enjoy "Casino Jack and The United States of Money" without a bunch of stupid questions.  Providing a movie as a diversion should not be rewarded.  My best friend is not a moron, by any stretch.  She is very smart and extremely creative, both qualities that are wasted on "The Last Song".   She is simply in the wrong line!!! 

So, friend, I'm talking directly to you here.  Remember when I brought "Requiem For a Dream" over and hounded you until you watched it?  'Member????  I wasn't punishing you, dear friend.  I was only trying to expand your repetoire.  You were horrified.  When's the last time you were horrified and then able to pop the dvd out and go on with your now sunny life?  A small dose of seriousness or disturbing never hurt anyone, so get with the program.  Ok Ok, I admit it.  I actually did like "Bridget Jones Diary".  Ok, I loved it.  But girl, you were wrong for "Shallow Hal". 

So, get yourself down to the nearest Redbox and take "Precious" home.  She has a lot to offer you, and you will stop crying...eventually.  I'm saving you a place in line, get over here and leave "Twilight" alone.  Dark can be done sooooo much better.

Lowered Expectations

So, after removing my profile from the popular dating site, I get an email saying "WAIT!!!! YOU ACTED TOO QUICKLY!!!!"  The email encouraged me to check out a partner site, which gives one more control over who sees the profile and which profiles are matched.  Not having anything better to do, I decided to check it out.  After taking a very long and taxing survey (why does the length of my index finger in relationship to my ring finger matter??), I was then provided with my personality "profile".  I was kind of shocked at how accurate it was!  Basically, I am a nice person with a tough exoskeleton.  I tend to care too much about everyone else's feelings and am skilled at taking everything into consideration and delivering a fair and logical decision.  Although I am a nice person, I suck at small talk and prefer to have deep conversations with my closest friends (nice way of saying...intense).  Pretty much, my "analysis" was in line with my profession.  Empathy is my middle name. 

The new site provides you with several matches, not random dudes who live near you.  Thinking that this may be a more efficient way, I started clicking through.  And clicking through.  And clicking through.  Sure are a lot of poetry writers in West Tennessee.  And Liberals.  And Firesplace sitters.  Lots of men who I imagine sound like Robert Goulet.  In fact, as I am reading their descriptions, I imagine them in Robert Goulet's voice.  I imagine the guy with a turtleneck sweater and a brandy snifter.  One guy was kind of cute, but as I said in a previous post, his interests made me tired.  Travels to Europe at least twice a year?  How? Who freaking does that?  And, if he is so well traveled and cultured, shouldn't he know that professional only has one "a"??  The word that comes to mind as I view these profiles is....smarmy.  What am I putting out there that yields these well coiffed, silky golf shirt wearing, highbrow, soulmate searching, poets???  Folks, I am NORMAL.  I am as normal as normal can be.  And, although this doesn't make me stand out against all the other acrylic nail sponsor seeking women on these sites, I value my normalcy above everything.  Surely, there are normal men out there, with normal hobbies, normal interests, and normal hair.  I started clicking the "not really" button on each profile, hoping to weed out these yahoos and get on to better matches.  Before eliminating the profile, I was asked "why?" and encouraged to choose a reason from a drop down menu.  Try as I might, I couldn't find the option for "Dude is not normal!!" or "I fecking hate poems", or "He is hiding a small child in his hair".  I finally just used "no chemistry" (understatement).  As an added insult, before finally taking away the offensive profile, I was assured that I wasn't really eliminating him, he would simply be added to my "not really" pile, in case I change my mind later.  Which is to say, in case I get so desperate that I reconsider going out with a 60 year old poetry writer who wears half moon glasses.  After ten "not really"s, I was out of matches.  So that's what it comes down to.  In the greater Memphis area, there are ten men for me.  And I hate every single one of them.  Perfect. 

I thought about my expectation.  What, exactly, is it that I am looking for?  A boyfriend? Not really.  A husband? Probably not.  A date?  Possibly.  I have no clearly defined goal here.  Perhaps that is why nothing looks good.  I don't even know what I want.  Actually, I do.  I do know what I want.  If I thought it would work, I would write the following description of my "match":

I prefer my own company most of the time.  Sometimes, I get tired of reading or contemplating the universe...here's where you come in.  I have no interest in hanging out at the Flying Saucer or the Fox and the Hound watching you drink your St Pauli Girl watching some stupid band do covers of "Brown Eyed Girl".  I actually do enjoy going out to bars, every once and a while, but I prefer to slum it at the Bel Air and the like.  Rowdy drunk rednecks are way more fun than highbrow blowhards.  I want to meet someone who is clean cut, but not too clean cut.  Jeans and tee shirts are welcome here, but body odor is not.  And, no sandals, please.  Getting up early on a Saturday morning and enjoying coffee and conversation is my idea of heaven.  Spending the rest of the day doing whatever seems fun (to the both of us) is even better.  Riding on your Harley is not my idea of fun.  Riding to the local Dairy Queen in the early evening in the summer with the moon roof open and the Steely Dan blaring is definitely my idea of fun.  If you bring roses to my door on our first date, I won't answer.  I am looking for someone who has seen every Saturday Night Live produced and still says the 90's are the best.  Someone who would enjoy going to the Pink Palace and not trail behind me sighing loudly.  Someone who understands the dark side of life, and is satisfied with watching it play out in a movie, not in real life.  I want someone who has been knocked on his ass, and has picked himself back up...without bragging about the recovery.  Someone who likes the outdoors in a passive way, not trying to fight the fecking wind everytime he is outside (aka adreneline junky).  Sit down and chill the eff out.  I don't see life as an adventure.  Don't blow up my phone asking what I am up to.  I will feel guilty for saying the truth (nothing) and will feel pressure to make up something just so that it sounds like I have a life filled with awesomeness.  Shortly thereafter, I will resent you and stop answering your calls.  If you are looking for a 'life partner', keep looking dude.  I have no interest in settling just because you have reached the 'life partner' stage.  I enjoy watching "The Real Housewives of ...", not because I aspire to be a housewife, but because those bitches are crazay!  This doesn't make me any less intelligent and if you look down on that, go back to your dusty ass Tolstoy and leave me alone.  You will likely find me lazy, reclusive, reserved, and pessimistic.  If that appeals to you...call me! You will find that you are right, most of the time, but sometimes...and only sometimes, I can be fun as shit and so nice you will want to introduce me to your mother.   Are you out there?

Doubtful.  And, if he is out there, he likely isn't on the internet looking for me.  He's probably sitting out on his deck, smoking, having a beer (a mid brand beer) and winding down after a long day of putting up with people's bullshit.  As an aside, the extremely busy Dude #3 from the previous post sent me a text today.  And guess what! HE'S BUSY.  I am tempted to tell him how lame that is.  I'm not impressed, dude.  When I said I like cops, it's not because I am easily impressed.  Maybe I should have acted impressed and asked more questions.  Nah, might as well not lie.  I can see a lifetime of "My job is far more important than your job" on the horizon.  His text totally disrupted my important, fulfilling, soul healing, and adventuresome task of laying out in the sun.  The guy for me would have totally appreciated that. 

I'm Gonna Need a Smaller Net.

It has been a minute since I have felt like dating.  And by minute I mean almost two years.  So, because I have nothing better to do, I decided to cast my net out and see what sort of fishies I could capture.  And by net, I mean the internet.  Yes, that's right, I decided to give internet dating (another) try.  I chose a popular site, avoiding The One Night Stand Database as well as Let's Get Married and Be On TV site; settling on somewhere in between.  I created a profile that showcased my wit (borerline sarcasm...but hey, I'm trying to weed out Jeff Dunham fans), intelligence (intellect is NEVER overrated), and breeziness (to mask my intensity...that comes out later).  Initially, I opted not to post a pic for fear of it appearing on an old boyfriend's bulletin board with dart holes and a caption that reads, "i like sunsets, puppies, and screaming hysterical rages".  However, I quickly learned that the quality of responses increases tenfold once a pic is up.  I chose the "breeziest" picture I had and posted  my mug out there for all the world (ex boyfriends) to see. 

Next, I stated my criteria.  I have a type.  Everyone does, only mine is a little more specific (picky).  I like cops.  Not because a man in uniform sets me on fire (but admittedly, it kind of does), but because I should have been a cop.  I have that deep seated desire to catch people doing something wrong.  Ultimately, what sent me down a different path was the fact that I have no desire to confront, just to observe.  Either way, I am drawn to manly men who are intelligent and clean cut, with a sardonic sense of humor. I also like their sense of confidence (bordering on arrogance).  Most of the men that I know who fall into this category are cops.  As far as physical attributes, I tend to gravitate towards fair haired, fair eyed, unique looking men.  I don't want universally attractive, I want a face that I have never seen anything like before.  This is pretty vague, but I know it when I see it.  I wouldn't disregard say, a teacher or a farmer, but I haven't met a lot of teachers or farmers who could stomach my sarcarm or "intensity". 

As for what I am not looking for, that is far more specific.  Before stating my criteria, I perused some of the offerings out there.  My God.  What has happened in the last few years??  Did Mountain Dew sponsor some sort of Extreme Dating Challenge that I didn't know about?  Where did all these adrenaline junkies come from?  For example:
Hi, I'm Jason.  I like whitewater rafting, mountain biking, and hurling myself off of tall things. I expect my match to never veg out in front of the tv, only check her email once a week, and use phrases such as "dude that rocks" and "bungee jumping? score!".
Um, no thanks.  Conversely, I think La-Z-Boy sponsored a similar dating challenge:
Hi, I'm Todd.  I never leave my house.  I never raise the blinds.  I have reached level 5098 on War of Farmtown.  I expect my match to bring me news from the outside, use the secret knock, and use phrases such as "pass me the Doritos" and "What's the number for Domino's?"
Yeah, I have had quite enough tv time...thanks.  My intention is to actually leave my house.  I have enough chat buddies and buddies in general, so I am not looking to beef up my yahoo messenger list.  Therefore, I created a maybe pile, somewhere to toss in guys until I decided whether they would be perpetual chat buddies or actual dates.  The determining factor is what I refer to as "The Shove".  When I meet someone online (cringe), I either feel something pushing me to meet them, or I don't.  If we have chatted (again, cringe) for a week and there is no shove...then dude goes into the perpetual chat buddy pile.  I have tried to go against this, with lukewarm results.  I am not looking for lukewarm.  The shove leads to the initial BRIEF meeting.  I refuse to sign up for dinner and a movie on the first date.  I know within seconds whether or not I am going to want a 2nd cup of coffee.  My idea of Hell on Earth is to have to sit across from someone I know I will never see again and feign interest, counting the seconds until I can escape.  And a movie? Please.  How do you get to know someone at the movies?  Ok, so now that I have the framework, I can now publish and begin furnishing my house with potential dates. 

The reponses (I will get to specific profiles in a minute) were underwhelming. 

First of all, what the hell is wrong with digital cameras these days??  So many dark pictures, so little time.  I have to go on the assumption that the poor pic quality points to poor dude quality.  Also, yeah...you have kids. I get that.  I could tell by your screenname "BESTDAD4U" that you probably (hopefully, otherwise that's just creepy) have kids.  Do I need to see pics of them?  Absolutely not.  Does your ex wife know that you are advertising ya'lls kids on the internet?  Poor judgement points to poor quality, so moving right along.  Along the same lines, yeah nice pic of you and some chic.  If it's your sister, state that.  Otherwise, WTF?  And don't think you can get by with a crop, if I can still see 1/4 of some chic in a formal...then I'm to assume that you have never had a life outside of being mashed up against some woman.  Either that or you are a newly disjoined conjoined twin.  Either way, not what I am looking for.  Finally, the ever popular pic of the guy sitting at his computer, looking slightly off because he used his webcam.  This tells me that his ass is permanently glued to the task chair while he frantically works on other people's facebook farms and chats with his 476 yahoo chat buddies.  He is never looking directly into the camera, always slightly downward, because he hasn't yet grasped the concept of Hey! That Dude on the Screen Looks Just Like Me!

If the guy passed the picture test, he moves on to the next round.  The Hobby round.  I am not that picky on what men do in their free time.  I just need to be able to see myself alongside him.  Therefore, any hobby that requires me to don any sort of protective gear...out.  Not that I eliminate him based on this, I just then dig to see exactly how die hard dude is about said hobby and whether or not I would be required to participate.  If it seems that his only interest is clubbing on Beale Street, then I try to determine if he likes to go a few times a year or is he there as much as Kevin Paige.  Rock climbing...annual trip with buddies or does he wear a safety harness in place of underwear?  See, everything in perspective.  Of course you are going to want to highlight your fun loving self for your profile, but I have no use for a fanatic of any activity.  If looking at a guy's pictures make me feel tired, I know he isn't right for me. 

Next up is the keyword/phrase filter.  The following are words or phrases that will instantly activate the "not interested" button:

lover, lady, partner, walks on the beach, firelight, fireplace, roaring fire, rain, rainy nights, candlelight, massage, snuggling, cuddling, with my kids, dad first, muddin, mud riding, Adam Sandler, I don't read books (to include any cutesy misspelling of books to showcase your dumbassness), i'm new to this (no you aren't), romance/romantic, wife, ex wife, cheated, trust, newly single and ready to mingle, pamper, and Kenny Chesney (this list is not all inclusive)

The net results (all three of them) were then provided with my yahoo id, so we could get down to the nitty gritty of shove detection. 

Dude 1.  A teacher who turned out to have zero personality with tickets to the Opera.  I don't like holding up conversations.  It was as if he didn't understand the purpose of our conversation and had fast forwarded to comfortable silence.  After an extremely boring few minutes, I clicked out of messenger.  I then received no fewer than 10 emails that same day from dude, each saying, "hi."  Finally, I sent him a brief message stating that he wasn't what I was looking for and good luck.  He replied with "was it something I said?" Um, no quite the opposite.  Feeling like I should be honest, so as to avoid a flooded inbox of "hi", I leveled with him. "Look, I don't need any online messenger friends and you are destined to be that, at best. We didn't click. So, best of luck".  Dumbass then asked me, "Do you want to go to the Opera next Saturday?"  SERIOUSLY? 

Dude 2.  A computer technician (see, going against type!) who went into the maybe pile.  After chatting a few times, he pressed me for a date.  I explained my first date policy to him and he was cool with that, but still wanted to hold me to a plan.  Instead of the shove, I felt something more like a pencil poking me in the back.  Nothing that pushed me towards him, but something that I would eventually cave to just to avoid the annoyance.  I continued to be vague and non commital.  After logging off chat on Friday, I didn't log back on until Sunday afternoon, when I was treated to this missive:
Where have you been?  Women on here are crazy, never matching their profiles and not knowing what they want. Do you ever log off, because it showed you online all weekend. Good luck in your man hunt.
Oh Hell no.  Okay, I was slightly mortified that I didn't realize you had to actually log off, I figured the site just logged you off automatically.  Nope, so apparently, it looked like I had a 48 hour man search.  But, oh well.  I was going to save my reply for him until later on.  Then, I got busy sharpening my claws.

Dude 3.  Shove.  Not only did this one meet my criteria, he surpassed it.  We only chatted for a minute, and then I granted him phone privileges.  I actually liked him, and was down to meet him ASAP.  So, a couple of days later, we met.  And, it went well.  He didn't just seem interested in me, he stated as much. He was very cute and seemed genuine. I left there feeling pretty good about that find.  We communicated here and there for a few days, but no plans had been made.  He was quickly approaching the deadline! The Wow-This-Dead-Mouse-Has-Become-Tiresome-Think-I-Will-Go-Bat-Something-Else-Around deadline.  And then, I realized it.  He's just not that into me.  He said he was.  He looked like he was.  But he isn't.  I realized that all of his communication centered around how busy he was.  Work Work Work Work.  No one is that busy, though.  So, with that realization, I cut my losses and removed my profile. 

Taking down my profile brought about a sense of relief.  I could now go back to my fairly happy life without the stress of having to "put myself out there".  Putting oneself out anywhere is mentally taxing.  I realized that if I was working and had something else to focus on, I likely wouldn't have conducted this experiment.  But, I had run out of things to clean, I had reached a plateau in my job search, and I just didn't have anything better to do.  I am walking away from this with a clearer understanding of what I am looking for and an even better understanding of what I am not looking for.  Armed with this knowledge, I will just continue floating around, waiting to get shoved from behind.  I hit the "remove profile" button and stepped back into my comfortable life.

One last order of business though.  I emailed Dude number two.  The message stated:

Yeah, I just logged out. 

Strip Mall University

Ok, so I am now convinced that my evil twin (or maybe one of the other personalities a la "United States of Tara") is wreaking havoc on my search for meaningful (profitable) employment.  I have never had this much trouble getting a job.  I have been told that I interview well.  I have a professional, spell checked, and concise resume.  I have twelve years experience and a degree.  I would even consider taking an outrageous pay cut, just to have some place to hang out for 6-8 hours a day.  WTF is wrong here?? 

It has recently occured to me that Bachelor's degrees are now worthless.  What I am about to say is controversial, and many people may not like it, but I speak from my own personal experience.  The post high school educational system in this country is fast becoming the credit system of the last decade.  Just the same as not everybody 'deserves' to own their own home, not everybody 'deserves' a Bachelor's degree.  These days, anyone can get a degree.  There are satellite campuses cropping up in small towns all over Tennessee.  At first glance, this seems like a good idea.  I mean, education is important, right?  Not so fast.  Some people just were not meant to attend college.  Providing a college education to every Joe Six Pack does not lift up education, it simply floods the  market.  It also creates a sense of entitlement that, as we now know from the housing crisis, will eventually completely devalue the Bachelor's degree.  For example, The University of Tennessee offers a BSW at their Ripley campus (campus=tail end of a strip mall).  So, basically, Jane Q Public can attend college for a couple of hours a week and in a few years...Voila! College graduate.  But, what exactly has she learned?  What sort of experiences has she had?  I have been told that it is impossible to fail in this environment.  Of course it is.  The powers that be that were so instrumental in bringing the campus to their lovely town can't have a failure rate.  So, JQP will be passed along.  The number one reason places like Ripley can't get industry in their towns is the lack of an educated labor pool.  So, what's the quickest way to remedy that?  Give everyone a degree.  But what about the education?  Allow me to illustrate for you the 'education' I received in college:

1. Failure is always an option.  When you don't do the work, you fail.  Simple as that.  There was no facebook, no sharing assignments, no email chains, no take home tests.  I learned this lesson the hard way, with lasting effects.  Sure, laying around my dorm room watching "Jenny Jones" was awesome; but when grades came out...oops!  That lesson served  me very well in the workplace.  I can guarantee that if 50% of my class failed a course, the university would still be up and running.  Can the same thing be said for Strip Mall U?  That's the point, some people will fail.  Out of those folks, some will get their asses in gear and buckle down, and some will be eliminated.  It's the way of the world.  I was the only person vested; therefore, it was a test of dedication.  I could very well still be answering the phone at a doctor's office (admittedly, best job ever), but I was dedicated and able to pull it together without any outside assistance.  That, gentle readers, is the difference.

2.  College is an expensive investment.  I didn't qualify for financial aid.  A year too early for the Hope Scholarship in Georgia.  The Hope Scholarship is a great program, for the deserving.  But, just like so many other government programs....it's original intent was morphed into an entitlement program.  My dorm exploded my Sophomore year.  1993 brought every high school graduate out of the woodwork.  1994 brought all new faces.  You know why?  They were replacing the inaugural Hope Scholarship kids that flunked out.  And so on and so on.  There were some definite bright stars out of the bunch, but 13% of recipients don't make it past the second quarter.  Eventually, 18% do not graduate Georgia Board of Regents Report.  18% doesn't seem like a lot, but consider the cost of each semester and multiply that by 4200 students who didn't cut the mustard.  Government entitlement programs make it clear that your aptitude and intelligence are less important than your neediness.  Receiving a college education is a privilege, but it is quickly becoming a right.  When you shit the bed on the state's dime, you should go home.  If a college education is truly important, there will be a way to get it.  If not, there is still a way to get it...so how do you tell at graduation which students were a good investment and which were simply just continent? 

3. Getting a degree involves sacrifice. It shouldn't be easy. Working isn't easy, and really, isn't college supposed to prepare you for work?  I resided in the uncool dorm for three years.  While most of my friends were out getting married and buying homes, I was studying the floor for an errant quarter.  The freshman 15 was a joke, as there was no way I was gaining any weight on a diet of ramen noodles and a weekly Big Mac (quartered, so as to last for four meals).  I tried pot in college for the first time, but ultimately had to give it up because it was too expensive.  Not to buy, but the groceries the insatiable hunger required were not in my budget.  Did I want to haul my lazy ass to the library to type papers?  Hell Naw.  But I did it.  Did I want to sit in a classroom with a barely fluent professor and frantically take notes? No.  Did I want to make peace with the obnoxious bitch in the room next to mine who had an affinity for Shania Twain at ear splitting decibels? No.  But, that peace making prepared me for the doofus in the next cubicle.  All that dime splitting prepared me for responsibility.  Rushing to my job at the doctor's office when I would have rather attended a study group taught me about sometimes having to do things I didn't really want to do. I am certainly not saying that one must live on campus to receive a full education, I did the commuter gig for a while too.  It is not fun, nor is it easy.  Time management takes on a whole new meaning when you get off work at 5 and you must be seated in a classroom 60 miles away by 5:45.  Had every opportunity been handed to me on a silver platter, I would have had to test the concept of sacrifice out at work....not a good proving ground. If I had been able to hang up my smock and drive 2 miles to my campus twice a week to sit in a class of no more than 20 students while each lesson is spelled out for me, that would certainly be convenient...but would it be educational?   What are strip mall graduates sacrificing?  Money....no.  Full time work (and full time salary)...no.  Time...no.  Lessons on how to deal with adversity...you bet.

4. College is big.  Colleges come in all different shapes and sizes.  In my hometown, LaGrange College sits high upon a hill (one hill).  My alma mater, The University of West Georgia, sprawled across several acres.  Bigger still, The University of Georgia requires a map.  A typical registration day started by standing in line at the Registrar's office.  Once you received a slip of paper, you must then transport that paper to an advisor (always located at the most remote location from your starting point) where you will sit and wait for your esteemed advisor to blow into the office and sign off on said slip.  This wait could vary between 5 minutes and 5 hours...appointments mean nothing. Once you have secured the signature, you will then return to the now doubled in size line at the Registrar's office to select your classes (yes, I went to school in the dark ages...before online registration).  Unfortunately, one of your classes is full already, so now you will be required to attend open registration the following week, but we will get to that in a moment.  After you have registered for all but one of your classes, you will now make the trek to the bookstore to purchase your materials (the walk back won't be as bad as your pockets will be much lighter), and then it is off to the Bursar to pay for all the madness.  The following week, you rise at 6am to get a good place in line outside the gym.  Once you have been granted entry, you will wander from table to table, begging classes.  At this point it doesn't really matter what class you get, just the number of hours.  "I need five hours, whatcha got??" can be heard echoing off the polished hardwood.  When you finally obtain a seat in UBW 101 (underwater basket weaving), it's back to the Registrar for more stamps and signatures.  Back over to the Bursar and then finally the bookstore (for your basket weaving supplies) and you're done!  How great would it be if all you had to do was walk through what used to be Cato's, register at the old Western Auto, then finish up at the former Sally's Beauty Supply?  All that bigness serves a purpose.  One of the most valuable lessons I picked up was how to deal with red tape.  Nothing at work is ever as simple as it should be.  When I have to refer a client to a community resource, I already know that it will not be as simple as picking up the phone and Presto...client referred.  I will patiently navigate the red tape and deal with seemingly impossible scenarios.  You know why?  Because I have done it all before.  I expect red tape.  There is a whole big ol' world out there, learning to navigate it is key. 

5.  Speaking of big worlds, isn't college supposed to broaden your horizons?  What sort of education can you get in a 5 mile radius?  Honestly, how many different types of people are you going to encounter?  Sitting at a desk all day answering calls from Jerry, Fred, and MawMaw; only to go to lunch to sit at a table across from Jerry, Fred, and MawMaw; returning to work and then getting off at 5 to drive a block to school to attend class with Jerry, Fred, and MawMaw.  Stopping by WalMart after class to run into...guess who!  "Get a degree without ever leaving your hometown" seems to be the mantra these days.  What exactly does one learn from routine and familiarity?  I would love to know how a strip mall BSW gets an education in society and people from a textbook. 

Perusing help wanted ads has shocked me into a reality I never expected.  The jobs that I qualified for 5 years ago now require a Master's degree.  4 year degrees are the new high school diplomas.  The influx of "educated" candidates has forced employers to raise their requirements but not their compensation or their standards.  Just as the real estate market was flooded with buyers, the work force is now flooded with degrees.  Unfortunately, the seller's market crashed.  Offering a mortgage to every breathing American destroyed our economy.  Offering a degree to every breathing American will do the same.  So much more than sheepskin goes into a college degree, the education comes from the process and the sacrifice.  This June, I will begin classes to further set myself apart from the degreed masses.  I have to admit, it is a tad bit disheartening to put forth the time, money, and effort to get an advanced degree just so that I can qualify for the same jobs I competed for 5 years ago.  I get the concept of bettering myself and all that jazz, and I truly do value education and opportunity, but when Tammy down at the Dollar General has her degree framed next to her cash register...something has gone terribly wrong.

You Know What They Say

I have a friend who says a phrase at the end of whatever she is explaining.  It is her way of ending her point.  She says, "And stuff."  She hates that she does this, as do I, and so she has started trying to stop using it.  It never fails though, as soon as she lets her guard down, "And stuff" comes right out.  It really isn't a big deal, but it made me think about the phrases people use to verbate (is that even a word?) the punctuation mark "...".  I began to listen to those around me and have collected a sample of how others trail off after making their points...

"First One Thing Then Another":  My dad says this, often in response to "What have you been doing", but sometimes in response to "What did you buy at the store?" or "So what did you and so-and-so talk about?"  Usually, he will tell me the answer, "Oh, I bought some dog food, shaving cream, and orange juice" but then will insert "First one thing then another" as a way of saying "I did/bought/discussed a number of other items but I don't feel like going into all that right now."

"Blah Blah Blah":  My mother used to say this.  I can remember eavesdropping on her phone conversations as a child, desperate to know what she was discussing on the telephone.  She would end several sentences with "and blah blah blah".  I misunderstood though, due either to a hearing impairment or preoccupation with toys, and thought she was saying "block block block."  In my 5 year old mind, I imagined my letter blocks being used to substitute words.  So, I would try to locate the corresponding blocks and "decode" what she was talking about.  For example:  "Yeah, so Nancy called in last night and said she was sick and blah blah blah (block block block)."  I then would locate the approrpiate letter blocks (no idea what my logic was) and try to spell it out for my self.  I would end up with something like: "...said she was sick and soup dog butt." 

"And Stuff":  As I mentioned above, my friend says this.  I believe she uses it as a way to say "I could talk more about this topic, but I don't feel confident enough, but if you are interested in the other stuff I could say, just ask."  For example: "Ms Black attended activity group every day this week, she painted, sang, and stuff".  This phrase is often pulled out when the speaker is wandering into dangerous territory, such as discussing things that are beyond the speaker's level of expertise.  "Alzheimers disease causes you to forget things and stuff." 

"And Everything Like That":  I know several people who use this.  To me, it sounds as though the speaker is trying to claim intellectual ownership of the topic at hand, plus all related topics.  For example:  "Mary came to the bar last night and drank too much wine, girl, she started throwing up and everything like that."  Everything like that could include diarrhea, dry heaves, and urinating...basically expelling bodily fluids.  The speaker wants to be sure you don't say "yeah, she may have thrown up, but did she sweat?"  This phrase makes the speaker feel as though he/she is the authority on the topic (plus all related matter). 

"You know?":  UGH. This is the worst.  This is basically the speaker's way of saying "Affirm me."  The speaker is seeking your affirmation in order to be granted permission to continue.  What would happen if you said "No. I don't know" in response to this?  The conversation would come to a screeching halt, and the speaker would likely walk away thinking you were a first class asshole; even though he/she is the one who asked!  A variation of this is "You know what I'm sayin"?

"So":  This means, "I am not going to mention anything else about this, so please just change the subject".   It is often used following a threat as a way to make the threat but not actually be expected to carry it out: "I told that bitch if she called my house again I would beat her ass, so...."  So what?  So she continued to call your house?  So she never called again?  What happened next?? This phrase is also often used as a bragging tool, to shut down any further pissing in the pissing contest.  "You have a pool? Well, I have a pool AND a pool boy, so...."  So, don't even try to top that. 

"Or Whatever": This is similar to "And everything like that", but different in a distinct way.  "Or Whatever" means "I just made a point, but the opposite could be true, so I am detaching from being right; that way if the point I just made turns out to be false, then I can't be held responsible.  For example:  "The forecast calls for rain later this evening or whatever."  We all know that weather can be unpredictable.  This way, if there is no rain, the speaker won't be chastised as being a weather moron.  This prevents "I lugged this raincoat around all afternoon because you said it was supposed to rain and now it is clear!!"  It also recognizes that there are several other possibilities.  It could rain "or whatever"; or it could snow, sleet, or hail.  All the speaker knows is something might fall out of the sky. 

"But Anyway":  This is another "let's quit talking about this topic and maybe talk again about something we have already talked about before."  I had a patient who said this at the end of EVERYTHING.  "My dad left our family when I was nine, but anyway."  But anyway what?  "My dad left our family when I was nine, I like to paint, read mysteries, and garden." 

"Six of One, Half Dozen of the Other":  I have another friend who uses this as a way of saying "It makes no difference".  I hate this phrase because I want to Math-e-tize it.  I can't wrap my brain around it.  Does he mean "6 plus 6", "6 or 6", "6 of this and 12 divided by two of something else"?  And don't even make me try to say it, it is usually said at a rapid rate, and I just can't spit it out that casually.  I usually end up with "6 and half dozen other 6's".  Why not just simplify it by saying "12".  For example: "You bought Doritos and I wanted Fritos, but oh well, six of one, half dozen of the other, I suppose" could be "You bought Doritos and I wanted Fritos, twelve."  There are variations on this one as well, which further complicate the matter: "Six or one half dozen of the other", "six and one half dozen of the other" "Six to one half dozen of the other"...ugh, I was a Liberal Arts major for a reason!

Surely I have a "...", I just don't know what it is yet, because apparently, I don't listen to myself when I speak.  I will try to be more mindful of how I end my points and report back.  In the meantime, please feel free to add your own point ending phrases in the form of a comment.  And everything like that.