A Fine Line

"Oh no, do we have to move again?"

It's the comment my husband utters with a sigh every time I declare I'm having "trouble with the library." And when I say "trouble with the library" what I really mean is "I have a big old fine."

I positively adore the library. I move around frequently and every time I re-locate, the library is one of the first places I look for on my new neighborhood's map. Libraries, although typically not as widely used as they should be, are a fantastic community resource to prevent me from spending thousands upon thousands of dollars each year on books.

Don't get me wrong, occasionally I do purchase books, but the library is just too convenient. I don't feel the need to read books the instant they are released and I'm currently not in a book club, so borrowing is perfectly acceptable in my mind. Plus, I read an awful lot of classics, which are plentiful at the library. So why not take advantage of a nearby resource for which I'm already paying taxes?

I've had contentious relationships with my local libraries over the years, sometimes due to my negligence and other times for reasons beyond my control. I admit, a number of years ago, I accrued fines fairly regularly. During that dark period, my now-husband began a joke (or is it??) about having to move every time my fines grow overwhelming, in order to avoid a bill so large that we need to re-mortgage our home. Thus, out of his suggestion of skipping town when I have fines, the phrase "Oh no, do we have to move again?" was born. 

But back to my problem. My current library and I had a bit of a falling out last autumn, when I had traveled out of the country and forgot to return my materials, racking up a multi-book fine totaling around $20. For the record, that's about the point where they start threatening to contact a collection agency. I ignored the threats until, suddenly, my fine jumped to about $38 and I felt it was time to take action. I chatted with a librarian and asked for an itemized bill so I could figure out why my fine had nearly doubled. Upon looking at the library printout, we discovered fines for books that had been returned on time, as well as random fines listed twice. Although the librarian didn't seem fully convinced of my innocence in a couple of cases, we agreed that I would pay about $17 for fines that genuinely were my fault.

Alas, after a truce lasting approximately nine months (a proud time for me, indeed), the library has decided to throw down the gauntlet once again. This time, while seemingly silly, the battle is over $1.20.

I often renew my books online and did so again at the end of last week. Upon renewal I received the message "The following items have been renewed" and it listed my two books. Piece of cake. Three days later, I received a notice that one of the books was overdue and I now owed 90 cents. Baffled, I called up my account online and sure enough, one book had renewed and the other hadn't. I figured there was some glitch in the system and tried renewing the rogue book one more time. Again, I receive the message "The following items have been renewed" with my book listed immediately after.

This morning I discovered that the book again was not renewed, so I called the library. Apparently, there's a hold on that book so it will not renew, and my fine is now up to $1.20. I decided to try renewing to see what message I would receive this time, and sure enough, a different message, "Not all renewals were successful," flashed on the screen. Curious.

The librarian very nicely informed me of what to look for online to identify a hold, and that "Not all renewals were successful" should appear onscreen to alert me to a hold. However, I actually didn't need the lesson considering my extensive experience with hold messages due to my repeated use of the online system over the years. I know what they look like and promptly return books on hold to avoid a fine. I promise, there was no such message when I tried renewing twice over the past five days. I have no problem with returning a book when there's a hold, however, when there's some type of odd error with the system, the gloves come off and the battle begins.

Currently, I'm considering myself fully engaged in a library standoff. I will return the book tonight, but that fine is not getting paid. It's not the $1.20, it's the principle. I'm not pleased about having a fine tarnish my clean-for-nearly-a-year record, but that is how it must remain for now. Let's just say the library has crossed a "fine" line, and I'm not budging.

Should a bill collector appear at my door in the coming months for a money gathering attempt, I think I'll kindly refuse and record a video of the entire ordeal to create a YouTube sensation. I'm fairly certain "Bill Collector Goes Postal Over $1.20 Library Fine" would be a significant money maker.

Dirty Birds

People, you are dirty. Dirty, nasty little pervs. Just when you thought you were hiding it, here I am calling you out. I know where you are, and I know what you're looking at online.

Let me include a little back story to explain. Last year, I wrote a blog post on being married to an identical triplet. It was supposed to be purely informative, but somehow has morphed into a veritable pornucopia. All because I was trying to tell you nasty people to stop asking silly questions because my husband has not been, and will not be, starring in any triplet porn. I included a photo of the Dahm triplets, who represent an extreme, ludicrous example of triplets, which some people choose to elevate as a prime example of reality. Now, because of that one photo (which, by the way, showed no nudity) my blog site overflows with internet porn surfers from all over the world trying to see triple the boobies.

If you think your internet searches are completely anonymous, here's a harsh reality check for you: they're not. Blog sites allow users to view stats such as where people are visiting from, what operating system they use, whether they're reading from a mobile device and what words they may have searched to arrive on the site. Let me assure you, I've encountered some wild search words over the past eight months or so. The predominant search term for my site is "triplet porn," closely followed by "hot triplets." I shan't shock you with some of the juicier searches that have led people to this site, as I think your imagination will suffice.

I also know where you're reading from, even if you think you've blocked such stats from being visible to me. Granted, it's not as specific as some blogs sites which actually show IP addresses, but I know which cities you're visiting from. It's been exhilarating seeing that people from all parts of the world -- including South Africa, the Philippines, Australia and Brazil -- find my site and sometimes become repeat viewers. The demoralizing part comes when I see they've arrived by searching for triplet porn. And here, I thought I was winning the world over with my glorious writing skills and wit. *sigh*

Let me give you an idea of just how many people arrive on this site hoping for porn. When looking at the hit counts on each of my posts, they tend to cluster together within a few views of each other, maybe varying by tens of views. However, the triplet post has received nearly nine times as many hits as its closest contender. Think about it: if the second-most-read post had 100 views, closely followed by a third place post with 98 views, that means the triplet post racked up 900 hits. It boggles the mind and proves that internet porn is alive and well, regardless of measures to curb it.

Don't get me wrong, I happily accept readers no matter how they discover this site. I just hope that maybe some of those who visit to triple their pervy pleasure will find other posts they like, and perhaps become regular readers. If not, that's OK. Just keep the web traffic coming, you dirty birds.

This isn't intended to change behaviors or to preach that people shouldn't look at internet porn. It's simply to inform you, dear readers, that if I can figure out what nasty stuff you're looking at, other more adept computer wizards undoubtedly see it as well. Remember that the next time you believe you're pulling a fast one on your company by surreptitiously sneaking a peek at porn on your work computer. That brief boobie break could very well come back to haunt you. Or at least make you a topic for somebody's next blog post.

Stone Cold Trippin'

Most people don't pay much attention to the surfaces they walk on. In places where walking is more the norm instead of driving, perhaps the rate of surface investigation is a bit higher. Let me assure you, in areas like the Washington, D.C. area where cobblestone covers large swaths of sidewalk, daily surface evaluation is not uncommon. Quite frankly, daily evaluation is recommended to avoid face-planting in public.

Some of these gaps can be half an inch deep.

Let me just put this out there -- I hate cobblestone. I didn't always. Like most people, I think it looks lovely and conjures memories of more quaint, simple times. But after regularly stumbling across decades old cobblestone, the cute street surface has raised my ire.

I would like to clarify that my gripe not only pertains to traditional cobblestone, but also to bricks or other non-smooth walking surfaces. These types of ground cover pitch and warp as they settle, creating a dangerous environment. Aged cobblestone ranks even higher on my list of annoyances, because the binding material in the cracks often erodes over time, leaving significant gaps. I can't tell you how often I've seen people trip on these gaps, or how often I've had heels become trapped in the crevices.

I've spoken before of my mild obsession with shoes. As you can imagine, the rough, jagged edges and uneven surfaces of cobblestone aren't kind to high heels. I've had to have countless pairs re-heeled from my wobbly cobbly treks. Quite a few women prefer to wear flip flops or sneakers to work, then change into heels at work. But I have enough crap to carry with me (purse, lunch bag, books) and can't deal with the bulk that heels will add. I don't like carrying a large bag, and don't want to have to start in order to accommodate my shoes.

Although the shoe issue greatly annoys me, my largest concern about cobblestone is actually a safety issue. I consistently see people (including myself) trip on these uneven surfaces. Let me assure you, falling on cobblestone can create significant cuts and scrapes due to the protrusion of all those pointy edges.

Even more disturbing than watching an able bodied person become tripped up on cobblestone is watching a person with a disability trying to figure out how to work around it. Several times, I have watched people in wheelchairs maneuver in the street to avoid the perils of cobblestone. I've also witnessed a scene that broke my heart when a brave soul tried wheeling himself over the stones near my work. His wheels hit some of those jagged edges, and the poor man tumbled out of his chair into the street. Luckily, there were many bystanders who helped him up and he wasn't horribly injured.

See how the bricks warp on the left? This is why people fall.

A few years ago, a battle erupted over a new development that was to be constructed here in the D.C. area. Part of the design included historic looking cobblestone or brickwork. Disability rights groups called for changes to the plan, asking that uneven surfaces instead be smooth pavement to increase safety. The uproar from certain sectors of the community baffled me. These people wouldn't stand for their new, modern-looking development being marred by the surrounding pedestrian walks not looking historic. Makes sense, right? I believe a safe compromise eventually transpired, amidst much grumbling from the cobble-lovers.

I'd like to see new developments cease the use of cobblestone and bricks. While I know it may be a wildly unpopular view, I'd also like to see ages-old uneven surfaces paved or somehow re-worked to increase safety. There's no reason people should have to constantly trip while performing daily activities. Even more importantly, there's no reason for people with disabilities to be forced to run the gauntlet in the street rather than benefiting from the safety of a sidewalk. I'm sure parents of kids in strollers would like to get in on this gripe as well. An outright ban on such street materials sounds a bit extreme, but in my dreams, I envision a cobble-free world. However, being that I live in a "historic" area and people want their brand spanking new developments to look "historic," along with the old and decrepit cobblestone which some believe is "quaint," I guess I'll just have to be content to break heels, stub toes, twist ankles and pretend nothing happened when I plummet face first to the ground. Just do me a favor and help me up, if you're not too busy tripping yourself.

On the Straight and Narrow(minded)

"We are confronted primarily with a moral issue… whether all Americans are to be afforded equal rights and equal opportunities, whether we are going to treat our fellow Americans as we want to be treated." 
-John F. Kennedy, June 11, 1963

History really does repeat itself. Nearly 50 years after JFK uttered the preceding statement on the radio, we're again talking about allowing certain sectors of Americans to share equal rights. This time though, it's not a matter of black and white, but of gay or straight.

On Wednesday, President Obama made waves when he said in an ABC News exclusive that he supports gay marriage. This, after years of stating he didn't support gay marriage because civil unions were enough.

He's taken some heat for the about-face, however, I believe we're all entitled to change our minds. Learning about people and issues and re-evaluating our beliefs based on new information or viewpoints is part of being an adult. If I were rigid and didn't revisit my views, I would still hate cheese, never would have discovered my love for running, and quite frankly probably wouldn't currently hold friendships with some wonderful people who failed to win me over with a first impression.

To those who have been saying the president only made his statement because Vice President Joe Biden made a comment approving of gay marriage the other day, I'd like to remind you of something. Biden had also previously expressed disapproval of gay marriage, saying civil unions were enough. Clearly, the two have talked about the issue, but Biden likely exhibited one of his infamous "oops" moments and let it slip before Obama did. Who cares who said it first, let's focus on what's really important--making progress. Moving on...

Getting back to the original quote in this post about the moral dilemma... "Morality" repeatedly proves to be a tricky issue. So often, what's morally acceptable to one person is deemed despicable by another. When it comes to restricting a person's rights, it's particularly troublesome. If we ban gay marriage on moral grounds, then why not divorce? Divorce is an offense so grave in many cultures and religions it can get a person excommunicated or shunned from society. In my opinion, divorce harms the "sanctity of marriage" far more than two people of the same sex who deeply love each other and want to make a permanent commitment. Yet, there's no widely recognized movement to outlaw divorce.

Being raised a Christian, I find it quite difficult to agree with people who use Christianity, or any other religion for that matter, as an impetus for opposing gay marriage. Don't even get me started on the separation of church and state, a constitutional concept often thrown to the wayside. Does anybody remember the "Golden Rule?" It's the one in Matthew 7:12 which, in modern language, states: "Do unto others as you'd have others do unto you." It appears again in Matthew 22:37-40:  "Jesus said unto him, 'Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.'" Variations of this moral tenet appear in sacred writings from scores of the world's religions. It is supposed to be the backbone for many religions. Never have I encountered a variation including the caveat "...except if the others are gay." However, many people ignore the Golden Rule and instead take up a practice expressly denounced in the Bible--judging others instead of letting God judge.

I respect people's right to disagree with gay marriage. That's their choice. Just like it's my choice to disagree with people like the Octomom becoming pregnant time and time again, even though it's legal. But there's a world of difference between merely disagreeing with a viewpoint or action, and being hurtful or restricting the rights of a person.

I know this post likely won't convince opponents to support gay marriage. If that happens, or at least makes you think about it a little, then that's an added bonus. I'm writing this to say if you don't approve of it, just don't hurt others. I urge anyone who feels compelled to make nasty comments or to restrict another human being's rights to watch the anguish a gay loved one experiences over trying to come out. I don't care how media or the movies may have influenced your perceptions, these are real people with real emotions. Another demoralizing moment is watching a gay loved one struggle with the reality of not being able to marry the person they love, the person who has stood by in thick and thin, shared good times and bad. I assure you, the pain is genuine, it is heart wrenching, and it is grossly unfair.

President Obama's declaration was a good start, but there's still much to be accomplished on this issue. Like Rosa Parks refusing to surrender her bus seat, or the four black men who refused to leave their stools in a North Carolina Woolworth's, small actions create a necessary spark. But we all have to work to fan the flame. No measure will be considered going "far enough" until every person is allowed the same rights to marry across the United States.

Whether or not you like her comedy, I feel this statement by Wanda Sykes sums up my sentiment on those opposed to gay marriage: "If you don't believe in same sex marriage, then don't marry someone of the same sex. I don't understand people all up in arms over sh*t that don't affect them."

Are You Talking to Me?

There's a popular belief that talking to oneself is a sign of genius. If that holds true, please consider me the world's foremost genius. Because I definitely talk to myself. A lot.

This is a rather embarrassing admission; I've never known anybody to willingly proffer this information without at least some reluctance. But with age comes a distinct lack of caring what others think. Don't get me wrong, it still embarrasses me to no end when somebody walks in on me muttering to myself, but at least now I know this is a fairly common practice among people, based on a number of articles I've read and conversations I've had recently (with other people, not myself).

Yes, I talk to myself. Don't lie, you do too.

What do I talk to myself about? Nearly everything. From trying out a difficult speech I'm going to later barrage someone with, to repeating movie lines, it all comes out. I even go over previous conversations, coming up with things I wish I would have said at the time. Why does this have to happen out loud? I truly have no idea. But I do notice that certain things trigger more self-talking for me, such as lack of sleep, stress or too much caffeine. Along with many other physical issues I experience when I ingest significant amounts of caffeine, talking out loud at odd times is one side effect. I've actually startled myself while hopped up on caffeine when I "come to" out of a deep conversation with myself, previously not having realized my thoughts were audible. This is one of the many reasons I try to avoid caffeine.

In addition to talking with myself, I have a tendency to take up conversations with inanimate objects. There can be absolutely nobody around, yet I feel the need to speak out loud to an object. For example, if I'm trying to cook and my spatula breaks, is it really necessary to direct disparaging utterances at my utensil? Isn't it weird to say something to the effect of, "Really? NOW you break? When I'm in a rush and just want a tasty pancake? C'mon, spatula, what the hell?!" Or how about aiming comments at my own body parts like, "Well hey there, hair. You're not looking too bad today." It's pretty odd, I'm not gonna lie. But I do it. All. The. Time.

For a while, I actively hoped nobody had set up any sort of recording devices in my home for fear of revealing my penchant for talking to myself and everything around me. But now I figure if there is some sort of recording device, I just hope my stalker is amused by my outbursts. (Note: this is not an invitation to bug my home or to set up secret recording devices. However, if there is already one in my home, I just ask to split any profit you bring in from internet sales of the audio/video.)

So is this really a sign of genius, as the old adage suggests? Or perhaps an overly active, overly creative brain? I'm not sure, but I doubt it. As long as it's not a sign of the alternative--schizophrenia--then it's alright with me.

Have a Seat

Up and down. Down and up. All. Day. Long. Such is the life of a toilet seat in a mixed gender household.

But then the trouble starts. You know how it goes: Woman walks into the bathroom and doesn't check seat, woman falls into toilet, woman screams, woman lectures man endlessly for leaving the seat up, man rolls eyes and tunes out. OK, ladies. I've got something to say that you probably won't like. You're in the wrong.

The seat flips both ways. Guys, put it up. Ladies, put it down.

Having been the victim of a wet bum myself on more than one occasion, I can completely understand the dismay at falling in. I can identify with the blaze of anger that makes some women scream obscenities and curse whoever left the toilet seat up. But please realize that this is not somebody else's fault. YOU should have looked before leaping. Remember in a previous post, how I said women should stop hovering and instead check the seat before sitting down? The pre-sit checking still holds true in this case.

Think about it -- the guy did what he has been trained to do since becoming potty trained as a toddler. He courteously lifted the seat so as to not spatter upon it (sadly, many women don't have the same courtesy and spatter all over seats. Again, see original post). He went through the trouble of reaching down to lift up the seat, when all he really wanted to do was relieve himself.

Ladies... You, however, opt for instant relief instead of taking the half a second needed to check the seat. You couldn't take the half a second to flip the toilet seat down and spare your bottom the drenching that followed. Yet you will yell at the man mercilessly as if he actually did something wrong.

If we are to abide by woman logic, men are supposed to put the seat up AND down when doing their duty, while women bear no burden whatsoever. That seems illogical to me. There's no reason he should have to put the seat down when he leaves, but ladies shouldn't have to put it up when they leave. There's equal chance of each person using the restroom next.

To those women who claim they will likely be the next toilet user, so the man should therefore put the seat up and down... my response is that you have to pick your battles. Personally, I don't see the ridiculous toilet seat battle as something worth fighting for.

I contend that the toilet seat wars are just the product of women's embarrassment at falling in. It's a rather common occurrence for people to fly into a fit of rage when they clearly know they're in the wrong, but are too embarrassed to admit it. Ladies, let's just remember that nobody else is there with you so it's not anyone else's fault. On the upside, due to there not being anyone with you, others will also never know of your unfortunate topple into the bowl unless you tell them.

So how about we all count to ten, pretend the plunge never happened, and remember to take a brief look before plunking down on the seat next time. Plus, let's not forget how lucky we are to have toilet seats. Think of all the people in prison who would kill (figuratively, and possibly literally) to have a toilet seat at all.

Guys, if you consistently put the seat up when you do your business, you're off the hook on this one. But please start remembering to refill empty toilet paper rolls.

Update 4/27/12 I would like to thank a number of you for letting me know that there's another option  practiced in some households -- everyone puts the top lid up and down every time. I have to say, I like this. My previous rant was about just one sex having to bear the whole burden of toilet seat management, while the other did nothing. If everyone shares the burden, I'm OK with that. Thanks again for the suggestion!

On the Road Again

Warming sun. Tropical drinks. Exotic foods. Hiking. SCUBA diving. Chatting with locals. Exploring locations teeming with history and culture. In my opinion, these are just a few of the elements that meld to forge a glorious vacation experience. You know what doesn't make for a pleasantly memorable vacation? Travel jealousy.

Over the years I've been told by countless people, "Gee, you go on so many vacations. I'm totally jealous." I've also heard the more blatant, "Vacationing again? I hate you." Although such statements are usually uttered with jest, they often contain a certain amount of biting truth. Sometimes, sadly, the words are even spat with thinly veiled bitterness.

I will admit, I embark on more trips than the average person. But if you will excuse my hubris for a moment, I also deem myself one of the more adept adventurers I know. I'm not talking about an adventure vacation here and there, with the rest revolving around sitting on beaches. Sitting around is for other people. I want to milk every new locations for all it's willing to give up. I do my best not to take any trip for granted.

We all hold certain passions near and dear to our hearts. For me, traveling is that passion. Exploring new places produces a kind of euphoria in me that is not easily replicated. The funny thing about passion is that it manifests itself in different ways. While one person may be passionate about reading, another may be passionate about collecting art, and yet another may be passionate about music. All are valid if they enrich people's lives, as I believe my travel does for my life.

I understand that all of us like to escape from the daily grind when possible, and for some it's a difficult endeavor. Please believe me when I say my trips do not simply occur on a whim. They are thoroughly researched, budgeted and contemplated. Those of you who know me well know how much of a cheapskate I am. Do you really think I would be spending copious amounts of money on anything, much less something that's not a necessity? I read travel advice websites daily, sift through countless emails from travel companies, hunt for deals on the internet and twitter, enroll in every point/discount accrual program, haggle with hotel managers, study weather patterns, research a destination's low seasons and bite my nails down to nubs while waiting for last minute deals. I promise you, with my weekly and daily attention, I put in more effort than 90% of travelers. Plus, many people tend to forget that I'm not taking full two-week vacations several times a year; many of these excursions are simply for a weekend.

Additionally, my daily expenditures are ridiculously low compared to most people. I make nearly all meals and don't eat out, have antiquated electronics, don't have cable, avoid large purchases unless absolutely necessary due to a previous item's failure (e.g. car, tv), purchase many things second hand, clip coupons, and a rudimentary perusal of my home will prove the glaringly obvious -- that my furniture is quite literally all gifted or hand-me-downs (barring the couch purchased 4 years ago because the other couch fell apart). I prefer to save my money for memorable journeys that will be burned into my memory forever. To me, things like owning the newest electronic item, purchasing designer clothing, wearing expensive jewelry not purchased for $10 at Target, spending more than $20 on a haircut or getting manicures is not important. Travel? That is what is important to me. Please don't judge me for that, because I would bet you also harbor priorities that others might deem odd.

Let's also not forget that for nearly three years, my significant other has traveled endlessly for work, and continues to do so. His being gone day in and day out equates to a rapid accrual of free flights and free or discounted hotel stays. This in itself sometimes causes jealousy to fester in some people. Rest assured, I would scrimp and save and give up every free drink/flight/hotel stay if it meant having my husband here instead of absent practically every day of the work week. I'm convinced the little "perks" are just enticements to keep me from going completely insane. They're something we can enjoy together. Heck, sometimes it seems like the only way we can enjoy each other is to get away.

Don't think I'm saying most people I know or associate with fall into the category of being judgmental about my travel. We've all been jealous or envious of people at some point, especially those close to us. I would hope that my true friends could share my travel joys, just as I try my best to share their joys in life.

Really, I blame American society for the vacation jealousy. We live in a place where workers accumulate weeks of vacation year after year that slip by unused. Americans feel guilty about taking time for themselves, and consequently work themselves to the bone. It doesn't have to be this way. Examine, for instance, all the countries where workers take three weeks of vacation with no questions asked. Whole sections of Europe shut down in August as the locals journey elsewhere. These people shouldn't be looked down upon, but instead applauded for realizing what's really important in life. It's certainly not work. Rather, it's making memories with loved ones. Enjoying time off with friends and family while taking a much needed and well deserved breather. Work is simply a way of funding such pleasures.

I consider myself lucky for having realized at an early age that work is not the purpose of my existence. I live for adventures with family and friends, and for squeezing the most out of my short years here on earth. I loathe the thought of being in my nineties and regretting my time sitting at the office in a bored stupor for a week, rather than witnessing the ear-to-ear grin on my husband's face while he spots a turtle during a snorkeling excursion.

You may continue to judge me for my travels if you so desire, but I assure you, that is a losing battle. Instead of feeling envious, perhaps try joining me in forgoing silly, costly things that mean so little in the long run. Instead, let's take the time to get away, and relish those adventures we'll never forget.

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-- 
I took the one less traveled by, 
And that has made all the difference. 

-Robert Frost