Mystery Solved.

I’m listening to the Muppet rendition of songs like Bohemian Rhapsody, Devil Went Down to Georgia, and Benny & the Jets. Apologies if this post is… well, a bit, odd.

At work, I drink a lot of caffeine. Those of you who follow my endless 140 character rants on Twitter (it’s just like here except smaller! Yeah, I wouldn’t follow me either), know that my preferred drink is Sugar-Free Amp  -- PepsiCo, I am currently accepting offers to be your spokesperson. Waiting by the phone. Just. Call.

Right, so I like caffeine now. I didn’t used to drink it prior to working for the video game industry, so that must tell you what living on the internet (that should totally my job description on LinkedIn by the way) will do to you. When you drink as much caffeine as I do, you become relatively well acquainted with the washroom. The loo. The privy. The toilets. The restroom.

Sometimes, in the afternoon, I’ll see that one of the stalls is sitting there with the toilet seat up. This isn’t a unisex facility. Just for the ladies. I started to see it nearly every day. Thoughts raced about what person in the office was doing it.

This whole mystery reminded me, one day, of a lecture from my college Anthropology days (why did I just make it sound like I’m reminiscing about drugs or something?). Our professor was teaching us about Practice Theory and performativity. We were discussing the works of Pierre Bourdieu and the professor introduced the concept “doxa”. For anyone who didn’t dabble in Anthropology, doxa is a term that refers to something that “goes without saying because it comes without saying” for someone. Whatever it may be is just so engrained in one’s society that he or she cannot imagine it being any other way. This was the example she used to demonstrate this phenomenon:

Professor X (meaning anonymous, not referencing Charles Francis Xaviar… although that would be the coolest! Totally saving that rant for another day) was visiting a foreign country and walked into a public restroom. She checked under the stalls to see if anyone was occupying any of them. Saw no feet, so she opened the door. Upon opening the door, she walked right in on someone who was perched on top of the toilet seat (why this person didn’t lock the door, I don’t know, so don’t ask). Professor Xaviar was so taken aback by this incident because she couldn’t even imagine using the facilities in any other way than she was used to. It was hard to wrap her mind about it. DOXA!

So one day I see the lid to the toilet seat up again and think of that story. I start wondering, “Wow! I must be encountering real life cultural differences right here at work. Not stupid cultural differences like how silly Canadian accents sound. But genuine differences and this can start a dialogue about how diverse America really is!”

Then, the inevitable happened. My bubble was burst. My detective skills failed me. If this had been LA Noire, I wouldn’t have completed the case. The game wouldn’t even have given me the option to skip the scene after three tries. Also, I probably would have killed someone with that fucking car. You drive, I have to look over the case notes.

One fateful day, I walked into the bathroom and noticed the stalls had just been cleaned. All the toilet seats were up. Obviously, I was just continually noticing the one toilet seat that no one had bothered using since someone cleaned.

Looks like I’ll never be one of those meddling kids.

EDIT: I have officially added "lives on the internet" to my LinkedIn profile. Changed "lives" to "resides"... you know, to sound professional.

Koi Fish

I hate koi fish.

To me, this statement should be completely self-evident and require no explanation. However, I’ve learned that my readers sometimes aren’t motivated by the same rage at the audacity of certain animals in their sheer will to exist. Therefore, let us explore the many reasons why koi fish were put on this Earth to annoy and frighten me.

There are very few animals that you can encounter in a park or someone’s backyard that are plausibly Martians sent here to watch us. Look at those big eyes. Obviously, I mean for you to Google “koi fish” for one moment so you can visualize what I’m talking about. I’ll wait.

No, seriously, go look.

OK regardless, ALIENS. That’s what they are, I’m sure.

You’re sitting on the edge of a man-made pond, maybe pondering whether it’s finally time to pop the question to that gal you’re sweet on (wow, I’m channeling the 1940s here apparently) or taking a moment to wonder at the glory of the universe. You glance over at the water, smiling warmly at the crane fishing for its next meal and a tadpole navigating new water. The circle of life at its best.

HOLY SHIT WHAT IS THAT TRANSPARENT THING!? IT’S LIKE THE SIZE OF MY LEG! WHAT THE HELL!?

That, my friend, is everyone’s first reaction when they see a white koi fish they are not expecting.  “Psh no,” you scoff, “I like koi fish. They’re so playful and exotic!” Clearly, you have become desensitized. Everyone is instinctively freaked out by them. They’re huge. Who do they think they are? 

Whenever I see a koi fish, after I recover from my initial shock and dismay by their presence, I feel compelled to try and catch it. I don’t have this reaction to other fish. In fact, I successfully kept many varieties of fish, sometimes for months at a time! I’m so good at keeping fish that I can’t even count how many I’ve had. My aquarium is THAT popular.

Keeping that fact in mind, none of my pet fish ever died because I reached into the tank to grab them (to be fair, one literally jumped out of its bowl and committed suicide, but that’s a tragic story I don’t wish to delve into at the moment). It’s a struggle I deal with constantly with koi fish though. I really just want to wrap my hands around their little neck bodies and shake them. “WHY DO YOU THINK YOU’RE BETTER THAN EVERYONE YOU STUPID FISH!?” I’d cry. Then I would promptly throw it against the wall. I have a strange understanding of fish anatomy and really feel like they’d just stick to the surface like Nickelodeon Gak.

Looking back at all of this, I’m actually kind of confused myself as to why I hate koi fish so much. They’re like the popular girl in school who knows she’s really pretty. Just something about them that I can’t quite describe.

But they’re stupid and next time you see one, resist the urge to grab it forcefully out of the water and slam it against the wall. I don’t think they’ll actually stick. Also despite my belief that they are not of this world, law enforcement will probably count that as animal cruelty.

The last thing I would want is for you to be locked up in the Big House.

Follow your heart.

I'd like to make a deposit.

I hate the Bank.

Honestly, I would rather keep all my money stuffed inside my mattress if it meant I never ever had to encounter another bank. Just so you know, I don’t do that, and please don’t come to my apartment to make sure. This isn’t a thinly veiled treasure hunt. Also, if it helps, I have no money. Hope that clears things up.

There is something seriously wrong with people who decide they want to become designers for banks. It’s worse than hospital design. At least at hospitals, you know everything is supposed to be plastic to wipe off strange liquids. The walls have to be periwinkle so you can pretend that it isn’t a cesspool of death and decay. Cheerful, I know.

But the bank. The bank. What is wrong with the bank? Why is that random huge vase in the middle of the walkway? Who is that lady in the painting!? Is there really a need for all this wood paneling? And who decided that all banks should get together and systematically use maroon and royal blue for every single damn piece of upholstery furniture in the place. Nice plants by the way. I know they're fake, who are you trying to fool?

That’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that every single employee loathes you. They don’t want you in there. You hand over your hard earned paycheck and they look at you like you are trash: "How dare you bring this insignificant amount in here? If you aren’t depositing money in the hundreds of thousands, well, we really can’t be bothered to smile at you."

It’s like people who work the lobby at a really nice hotel. I KNOW I make more money than you do, so why the hell do you think it’s OK to sneer at me for wearing a t-shirt in your stupid lobby? I am really making the place look shabby. Such a disgrace.

But anyway, the bank is terrible because you have to go there. It’s unavoidable. They talk to you about the convenience of online banking, but you will inevitably have to enter the dreaded local branch to activate a new card or make a large (but not to them) deposit.

Screw you, the Bank. I don’t need you.

Oh, free checks? You won me over.

Lesson Learned.

Sometimes I think people need to be taught a lesson.

Here’s an example. I’m in college, sitting in the library, hoping that by being in that space, I’ll somehow absorb knowledge via osmosis. This never happened by the way. I hate the library, but that’s another story.

So I’m in the library at a study cubicle making little paper people to have little paper people wars. The person next to me stands up to walk a book back to the other room. He has left his laptop unattended!

My eyes dart to the multiple printed signs (with bad Microsoft Word 1997 clip art to help get the point across) that warn people not to leave their computers alone for theft reasons.

Instead of thinking to myself, “Wow, I better not go anywhere and make sure this guy’s laptop doesn’t get stolen by a less honest and kind person like myself”, my mind immediately goes to the following:

“Wow, what a stupid idiot. Who just leaves their laptop and goes into the other room and expects that nothing’s going to happen? This guy obviously needs to be taught a lesson about needlessly trusting the world and random people like me.”

Then, I create this elaborate heist plot where I take this guy’s laptop and hide it somewhere in the library. I don’t actually want to steal it… that would be wrong. But this guy needs to learn that if he walks away from his computer, he has no right to assume it will be there when he returns.

A similar incident happened the other day. I was out with friends and we were driving home after a night out. We stopped at a grocery store to use the necessary facilities. A small clerk gestured to the back of the room, toward the bathrooms. Before I entered, however, I saw a giant stack of bread loaves, just sitting there. A thought occurred to me, “No one is watching these!” I thought I should teach the store a lesson about leaving loaves of bread in conspicuous places where people like me might decide to take them, or even worse, eat them in the bathroom.

So consequently, I’m constantly bombarded with thoughts to take some dumb guy’s fixed gear bike (stupid Hipsters… don’t worry, you’ll soon be treated with my opinion on that topic) while I’m at a coffee shop. Once I thought about pouring something into a guy’s drink when he wasn’t looking so he would learn that girls aren’t always virtuous. Unfortunately, I would have had to substitute the date rape drug with a sugar packet because I don’t keep the former handy.

The point is you shouldn’t trust me. At all. In my defense, I’ve never actually acted on any of these impulsive desires. Just to be save though, don’t assume I’ll watch your purse.

Spell Check.

I LOVE when people misspell the word "Definitely".

This isn't some kind of grammar god post (which now that I think about it, I should probably start using spell check).  Just so we're clear. In any case, I love when people spell the word "definitely" wrong. They almost ALWAYS spell it as "defiantly". It's amazing. When I read something that has spelled definitely as defiantly, I feel compelled to read the sentence out loud with its new meaning.

"Are you going to the party?"

"Oh I am defiantly going!"

Wow. That bitch is super renegade. What a rebel. I imagine she burned the other person in the face with a cigarette after she said that.

It's amazing because if you google search the word defiantly, the first thing that comes up is "Do you mean 'definitely'?" When I don't mean definitely, I think, "Jesus fuck Google! Stay out of my business. This is what you get with big government." Then I go to a Tea Party Rally.

Here's another website that pops up when you search defiantly. Seems like someone has even more anger then I do. Why go to all that trouble creating and maintaining a website for a misspelled word that makes situations completely hilarious!?

"He replied that he defiantly liked the ideas behind community and the feeling of belonging that comes with it."

That guy is the next Che Guevara. Speaking of which, College Freshman, keep that poster out of your dorm room. You haven't even lived yet.... your skin is too soft. Go out in the world and get some calluses damnit!

Moving on.

Anyway, really terrible spelling errors can and should be avoided. It's literally inexcusable to spell things wrong in this day and age--kind of like birth control--unless you're stupid like me and just forget... spell check not birth control.

Ew this got really weird really fast.

An Introduction.

Hi. I’m Jessica.
I have strong opinions about things. Hopefully you will forgive me for it.
Moving right along, I suppose I should do some sort of introduction to this blog and who I am, but I hate how awkward those always end up being so I’m not going to. You’ll have to deal with that too. I’m sorry.
I dislike pandas. This may seem to be a strange thing for me to start off with, but it’s really not my fault. I wouldn’t have to hate them so much if people weren’t so crazy about them. It’s a fixation.
Every time I watch the news, I swear some panda in some zoo had some baby that they have to take away from it and nurture because pandas are so damn lazy that she will forget she had it and roll over on it in her sleep, suffocating it. Pandas are supposed to be super endangered and rare, right?
You know why they’re rare? Because they’re stupid and lazy. Seriously, they can’t even have sex by themselves anymore. They need panda pornography (find link to put here!!!!) and a zookeeper to facilitate the process. Shouldn’t we just let natural selection take its course?
Pandas, until you can do the nasty by yourself, I don’t think I should care about you that much. You aren’t even that cute. People tell me they like pandas because they look like little stuffed animal pandas. I’m sorry, but little stuffed animal pandas look like pandas. Not the other way around. That can’t be retroactively cute. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Anyway, pandas bother me a lot. I feel like part of me must be broken because I can’t see their allure. It’s like when I was thirteen years old watching “Titanic” in the movie theater. Everyone around me was sobbing because spoiler alert Leonardo DiCaprio drowned after he couldn’t find his own damn piece of driftwood. Pathetic. I had to pretend to cry and think of really sad things because obviously I must be a sociopath, my pre-teen brain is thinking.
Now I know better. And I know that pandas are really dumb.
I hate pandas.