No time like the presents

There is no time that I want to blog more than when I have something very important to do. I mean, desperately important. This struck often when I was studying for the GRE's (especially the night before), when I was filling out grad school applications (especially ON deadline day), and when I was writing my final paper last semester (again, especially on deadline day). In less than one hour a grad school is going to call me and interview me and decide if they want to allow me to pay money to them and move to their city and attend their classes. I haven't even gotten out a copy of my resume, let alone looked up the person who's interviewing me. I'm also hoping to grab a shower so I can feel fresh and focused. But before that, I have a few things I want to get off my chest.

It's really been bothering me lately when people mispronounce words and phrases, especially things where the meaning has remained essentially the same but the phrase has been warped.

A perfect example. How do you pronounce (and/or spell-out) the abbreviation etc.? Seriously, think about it. We know what it means, we say it quickly, write the abbreviation, and don't think about what it actually IS.

Most people say excetera. It's not that. It's et cetera. Two words, Latin for "and the rest" if I'm not mistaken. And there's a T in there, not an X. Now, it doesn't change the meaning, you can write the abbreviation just as easily, but you can now speak the phrase correctly. It's so easy. It will be noticed appreciated by the people who are in the know, which now includes you.

Other good examples:
- take it for granite = take it for granted.
- for all intensive purposes = for all intents and purposes.
- (just because I work at a coffee shop) expresso = esspresso.


After a grammar-police missive like this I'm tempted to say "watch your p's and q's," but that's another story.

Love, Jack

Follow my nose

The past few days I have been smelling things a lot. "They" say that smell is strongly linked to memory, and my non-scientifically-backable anecdotal experience is piling up the support. In the past few days I have had these intense memory-triggering experiences:

1) While riding in a car with a female friend, some combination of her shampoo/deodorant/lady scents vividly connected her with feelings of an ex-girlfriend. I was crazy about that ex, and she was a fox and a half, and the girl I was with in the car is a strictly platonic friend. It made me feel things in places. I sort of suppressed the thought until I bumped into that same ex-girlfriend at a concert the very next day. I couldn't think of a gentlemanly way to say "The other day I smelled someone who smelled like you [used to smell] and I found it extremely compelling, like in an immediate sexual response way," so instead I just said "It's nice to see you!" and hoped the point got across.

2) Today while at work it was very muggy and hot outside and very air-conditioned inside, so when people opened the door the various drafts of air were quite noticeable. Again, some indefinable conspiracy of scents ignited a vivid memory of playing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Arcade Game or Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Turtles in Time in my friend Evan Pease's basement on his Nintendo (or Super Nintendo, respectively). I was transported back in time to those sleepover nights eating the snacks and playing the game console(s) my parents wouldn't buy for me. But amidst this wave of mutant-turtle memories, I was jolted back into the present need for chai lattes and double chocolate chip frappucino blended cremes. Bummer.

In both instances I was so connected with the memory that it overtook all of my senses for a moment. As far as my brain was perceiving, I was not in that car or that Starbucks in 2007, I was with a girlfriend in 2000 or in a basement with a buddy in 1996. My entire sensory experience was flushed by the olfactory cue. It was a curious sensation, not at all unenjoyable. I've often said that my sense of smell is probably my only sense worth anything (given my need for glasses, mediocre hearing, undistinguished palette, and assumably average sense of touch). It reminds me that supposedly people secrete pheromones similar to those that animals use to communicate, but we ruin them with all our bathing, deodorizing, and perfuming. I'm willing to bet that, if the pheromone idea has any truth to it, it's no surprise that these two scent memories connected to sex in the first instance and a familial feeling of safety in the second. The next time someone tells me I smell good, I'll try and find out just how good that smell makes them feel.

For further illustration: see Perfume: The Story of a Murderer

If you're not outraged, you're probably thinking about something else that's more important to you (and maybe the world in general)

You are currently reading my blog! That puts you into the category of "people who read my blog," so I can assume that you know all about me. So of course you know that I have been working at Starbucks for a while. It's funny how adamantly some people feel about my job! I'm just trying to make a dime, work with my friends, and get some help paying for health insurance. Some people are so against me working for what they see as the "big evil corporate machine" that they try and to proselytize about it, or at least scoff at the idea that I like my job. Someone told me once that it was "like selling out" (they were in the store, mind you). Let me tell you people, first of all it's a good company to work for (it's not nearly as evil as Wal-Mart, for example). They take GREAT care of their employees and have excellent quality control to make that latte worth $4. Second of all, I don't freaking care. I'm so sick of the "if you're not outraged, you're not paying attention" mentality. I work hard to make the world a better place. I'll work on what I think is important with my skills, and you work on your part with your skills, and between all of us things will get better all over. I'm a good friend, a good employee, a good student, and when I get to work in psychology I feel that I'm doing more good for the world than a million bumper stickers. Your favorite local coffee shop (or other cool indie business) doesn't give health insurance to their employees, their employees all drive to work in gas-guzzling cars, and they probably use bad grammar, so don't pretend they're perfect because they're indie and get all righteous on me.

There, I've said it, now I don't need to say it again. I really don't get upset about what other people think. I really don't care very much. I don't even drink coffee. As Andrew Bird so incisively put it, "Listen up, I just work here."

Changing gears, I had an interesting epiphany while at work the other day. When one works the register at Starbucks, one is supposed to greet the customer as he or she enters the store or approaches the till. You end up saying the same thing over and over, so you look for ways to make it a bit different. Ask them how their day is if you need an extra few seconds to finish something up. Save "greetings!" for an older or more distinguished looking customer who will enjoy it more than a casual "hey there!" And occasionally I like to bust out a rarity in this region, "howdy!" I was thinking about the etymology of that word, and I realized it is probably a very simple derivation of "how do you do?"

How do you do --> How doya do? --> Howdy do? --> Howdy!

I came home and looked it up and hell yeah I was totally right! At the time I shared my revelation with my coworkers. Nobody was impressed.

When arrows don't penetrate, cupid grabs a pistol!

Originally written, in a shorter and more personal form, as an email to my sister and her husband

Happy Valentine's Day dudes and dudettes! I hope you all have a nice day of romance. I have no romance going on, but I do look the part. I am wearing a nice red sweater that a wonderful girl got for me as a birthday present several years ago. As I am single, and decidedly not upset about it, I am celebrating the day with a nice dinner with a few friends. I've spent the day reading, and I'm going to finish "A Prayer for Owen Meany." I may buy Sarah Silverman's "Jesus is Magic" as a gift for myself. Straight up, this year I am my OWN valentine and let me tell you I am a sweetheart!

And now a Valentine's Day story:

---

A few days ago a regular customer at Starbucks asked my friend Brendon and me what we thought of Valentine's Day. She's the type of girl who's good looking and sort of insecure about it. We're all pretty sure she has a crush on every man she meets. Anyway, so she asked about Valentine's Day. She said something awkwardly provocative like "You guys must have girlfriends to enjoy it with, right?" When we said we didn't she quickly followed with, "But when you have had girlfriends, did you like it?" She was clearly looking for some reassurance, but we weren't sure in which direction she was leaning. We're not trying to offend, of course.

Brendon said something diplomatic by saying it's nice but not a huge deal, but she was really digging for an opinion. I had actually been thinking about it recently for other reasons. I decided to try my philosophy on a real live Female and see what happened.

"The way I see it," I began, "people get too worked up about the wrong thing. Romantic love is wonderful, and certainly deserves celebration, but what's so special about February 14th? If I take my girlfriend out to a nice dinner a week before, or a week after, or on the day, what's the difference? I say, if you want to do something romantic, do it. Don't wait for some 'special' day, make today special. If you take the position that romance is worth celebrating every day, Valentine"s Day is a great excuse to have fun and there's really no pressure. And if I don't have a girlfriend, no big deal, I'll celebrate when I get one."

That'’s seriously what I said, pretty much verbatim. It just popped out as if I'd been rehearsing it (which I hadn'’t, though I'’d been thinking about it). She was pretty surprised to get a treatise like that, so she just kind of vaguely agreed and looked like she was thinking about it. We chatted about Starbucks'’ new cupcakes that are supposed to be a Valentine'’s treat, despite having no clear connection to the day. Apparently when she encountered another coworker on her way out she announced simply: "Valentine's Day."” When he looked for some sort of follow-up she said in a similar declarative manner, "Cupcakes," and walked off.

The end.

Heart-with-an-arrow-through-it,
Jack

splash

I have taken the plunge. Not only did I get a job, but I have broken my lifelong streaks of working in neither retail nor food service. However, if I must work in one or the other, I think I have made a wise choice.

I am now a Baristo at Starbucks.

Let it be known that baristo is not a Starbucks corporate-sanctioned term. But I'll call myself a barista when I call myself a "ragazza" or a "muchacha." NOT LIKELY.

*

On a totally disparate note, I noticed that today is the day when I finally shove the SHAVIFESTO off the bottom of my blog. Maybe it's appropriate, since I now have a beard? I still think it's pretty good. Is it weird or conceited to look back on random things one wrote on the internet when one was idle and think, "Well done, One, that is amusing to me still!"? I hope it is not. I definitely do that sometimes and I'm NOT STOPPING. In fact, you should too! If it wasn't amusing (or at least diverting) for ourselves we wouldn't do these things, so we should enjoy them more than once. Considering my limited/possibly-nonexistent audience, I know I do.