BITCH FEST #2 - Automatic Toilets!!!

Okay, so the guys out there in Blog-land won't be able to relate as much to this piece, I'm sure, but I'm hoping I'll find some fellow commiserators amongst the ladies.

I have a thing with public restrooms.  To put it bluntly, I hate them.  My maternal grandmother had a pretty severe case of OCD, and I'm fairly certain that's where I get my base fear of the toilet stalls that exist outside of the comfort of my own home.

I often gets chills when I enter a stall - literal chills.  I shake in revulsion.  I have been known to walk an entire line of 30+ stalls in order to find the least offensive offering.  And I wash my hands repeatedly and obsessively, doing everything in my power to avoid touching faucets, handles, and doors afterward.

Because of all this, I am very fond of the trend toward automatic bathroom fixtures.  I'm a HUGE fan of automatic sinks and paper towel dispensers (or even better environmentally-speaking, automatic air dryers), and the advent of the automatic soap dispenser is a thing of true beauty.  I can't wait for EVERY establishment to get on board.

But the one device that continually picks at my sanity is the automatic toilet.  Why can't they get this damn thing right????

I guarantee that every woman out there has experienced the following situation:  Enter stall.  Do your thing.  And just a few seconds before you're ready for it, the toilet flushes.  Sigh of frustration.  Okay, NOW you're ready.  But the toilet isn't gonna flush again, as you didn't sit back down and activate the sensors.  You try waving your hand at the sensor, maybe put your foot in front of it to simulate a seated body.  Nothing.  So you hunt and search for the elusive "manual" button, which is of course too small to hit with your foot, and therefore you are left with the disgusting task of having to TOUCH THE TOILET AFTER ALL.

Not only has the entire purpose of the automatic toilet been defeated, you've also succeeded in 1) wasting water and 2) boiling your brain into a barely-controlled fury.

And I've actually been in stalls where the exact OPPOSITE situation occurs.  Enter stall, do your thing, finish, wait.  Wait.  Wait.  And nothing happens.  So, certain that the automatic toilet mechanism is on the fritz, you begin your search for the aforementioned manual button.  And just as you get right down there, with your face hovering mere disgusting inches from the toilet, guess what?  Flush.  Not only is it aggravating, it's totally, completely, undeniably repulsive.

Why can't these people get the damn things RIGHT???  Is the timing really THAT hard to manage?  Are the female engineers assigned to designing the mechanism the fastest wipes in the West or what?!?  (Sorry, gross out factor.)

You know, if the timing on these things is THAT difficult to figure out, then just leave be.  Gimme an old-school manual flush handle any day of the week - at least I can hit THAT thing with my foot.

Oh, and while we're at it, can we get on the task of creating an automatic toilet paper dispenser?  The female populace thanks you.

Driven to Distraction

Oh, what to do?

The problem at hand is vehicular in nature.  You see, I have what many have called extremely bad luck when it comes to cars.  I've owned more cars in my life than I care to admit, and I'm always ready for the latest one to crap out on me.

My previous car was a fiasco...I got a bright and shiny Saturn in 2002 - my very first BRAND NEW CAR.  The warranty expired after three years, and at year four (one year shy of having the car paid off) the car decided to stop working.  This was accompanied by some pretty awful noises and rather copious amounts of smoke, all of which was caused by some sort of engine cracking which I was told was not my fault.

Not my fault, huh?  You'd think that would mean I was entitled to my money back or a free Saturn or something wonderful of that nature.

In my dreams.

But they did work out a deal with me where they would wipe out the remainder of what I owed on the car (minimal at that point) in exchange for taking the car off my hands for parts and whatnot...as long as I sat down and signed the papers on a NEW car that very day.  This seemed a win-win situation to me, as I certainly couldn't live my life in L.A. without a motor vehicle, and although my previous Saturn had exploded for no apparent reason, I still trusted in the brand - don't ask me why.

So I signed off on a new car...as a lease.  You see, I figured that if I couldn't keep a brand-new car alive for four years, why not just switch them up every three?  That way, I'd always have a shiny new vehicle, and I'd never have to worry about something going horribly, awfully wrong and perhaps stranding me in East L.A.  (I don't know why I'm in East L.A. in this scenario, as I don't go there on a regular basis, but it fit my parameters for a place I would not want to be stranded, so sue me).

So here I am, at the tail end of my three year lease (did you already figure out the math, you sly devil, you?), and I really have no idea what I should do next.  My preference is whatever is cheapest, but that ain't so easy to figure out right now.

You see, I have been in two sizable accidents in this car - both times the car has been repaired through my insurance, but the repairs were substantial and I'm not exactly sure how that will go over with the folks at Saturn.  Also, I had an incident in a parking garage that resulted in a rather long and horrific scratch on the side of my car - which has NOT been fixed.

There are a few other issues, none of which are my fault, but I'm not sure the dealership will see it as theirs.  For instance, one measly month after I got the car, the cover to the driver's side visor mirror fell off.  Literally fell off.  I didn't even touch it.

Last year, the front passenger side window broke for no good reason.  It rolls down, but comes up crooked (someone told me the window grips inside of the door mechanism must have come loose).

And a few months ago, the right side window washing valve stopped working.  When I pull the lever to squirt solvent onto my windshield, only the driver's side gets the juice.  Hey, at least it's the important side, right?

See what I mean?  The car isn't even THREE YEARS OLD.  What the hell???

So here are my options.  1) Finish off my lease and switch over to making payments to actually BUY the car in question, keeping fingers crossed that nothing else goes wrong with it.  2) Fix the scratch & other issues on the car (probably thousands in repair work), then turn it in to Saturn and wash my hands of them. 3) Turn the car in to Saturn without the repairs, be charged probably double that amount by them, but still get to wash my hands of them.

Of course, option 3 is probably out of the question, as it will likely be the most expensive route.  But between 1 and 2, I simply cannot decide which would be the better choice - do I stick with a car that already seems to be falling apart but save the money on external repairs, or do I shell out for the repairs, get rid of the pesky damn Saturn, and switch over to a new car from a different company?  Either way, I'm still stuck with car payments for the next several years, though admittedly fewer of them if I choose to stick with the Saturn.

Whew.  Long-winded, and pretty boring stuff.  I apologize.

You know, just from writing all of that down, I think I see what I need to do, which is stick with the G-D Saturn from hell.  Great.  Will someone PLEASE win the lottery for me, PLEASE???

Then I could just hire a freaking chauffeur.

The Ties That (Legally) Bind

Okay.  I considered making this post my second Bitch Fest, but as I couldn't decide how to label my target, I chose to just make this my typical rant.

Most of you know that I was very much against Prop 8 here in California, which passed last November.  For those that aren't in the know, it was a proposition to our state constitution which prevents people of the same sex from legally marrying.  It reversed a decision made by California's Supreme Court a few years ago to allow these marriages.

I even wrote a prior blog piece about it - "Why I Think Prop 8 is Wrong."  Feel free to look it up if you're in the mood for more angry tirades.

This topic remains an issue - it went before the Supreme Court a matter of days ago.  And of course, the news outlets covered it...which means they had plenty of "man on the street" type interviews on the subject.

Now, I know people who are against legalizing marriage for same-sex couples.  I don't agree with them, but some of them have arguments that I TRY to understand, although most of the time I simply don't.  I don't see how two people wanting to express their love for one another has anything to do with anyone else.  They're not hurting anyone.  Right?

What I saw that set me off, that drove me to write about this subject once again, was an on-the-street interview with a woman (who I will not name, of course) who said the following (yes, this is a direct quote, I rewound several times to make sure I got it verbatim):  

"Marriage is created for family.  And if you're two men or two women, you can't have family unless you ask someone else to do it for you."

First and foremost, this statement enraged me because she's now taking this beyond an argument over the definition of marriage - she's now making it about the definition of family.  Marriage is created for family?  Really?  Because I'm about to get married, to a man I love with my whole heart, but we're not sure at this point in time if we ever want to have kids.  Therefore, should we not be allowed to wed, if marriage is strictly for FAMILY?

And who is this woman to tell me that my fiance and I aren't a "family" of our own?  Since when do you have to have children in order to be considered a "family?"

And as far as "asking someone else to do it for you" - so, you're telling me, a couple who adopts a child, that's not a real "family?"  It's only truly a family if you have the kids yourself?  What about artificial insemination - does it really make a difference if the woman is gay or straight?  Does one have a family, and the other not?

This line of reasoning was so insensitive, so hideous, that I couldn't help but scream at my television (sorry neighbors).  What gives this woman the right??  Marriage isn't just about family.  The act of marriage is about love, plain and simple.  It shouldn't be bound by any further terms than that.

It's almost as ridiculous as those who rage about preserving the sanctity of marriage whilst signing the papers on their third divorce.

I hope all of their "families" forgive them.

Bitch Fest #1

All right, so I thought about making this a completely separate blog page, but in the end I  decided no one wants to visit two separate pages.  Therefore, I will simply be keeping THIS blog, filled with various life observations and deep thoughts...

...BUT occasionally interrupted by pieces that I'd like to cohesively title "BITCH FEST, or 365 Things I Feel Entitled to Complain About."

Every now and then, I feel the need to rant.  Usually it's about stupid sh*t, stuff that really doesn't mean all that much in the grand scheme of things.  But man oh man, sometimes...sometimes it just wells up within your soul and you just HAVE to let it out, you know what I mean?

And I figure it's safer for everyone if I vent in the written word as opposed to...well, anything else.

So here it is, take it or leave it:  my first installment of Bitch Fest.  Please enjoy the anger.

BITCH FEST #1:

PEDESTRIANS!!!

Okay, perhaps I should amend that to read RUDE pedestrians.  But lately they've all felt the same, they all seem incredibly rude, and therefore I lump them as one large mass.

I've been walking a lot lately.  I always try to walk, considering I have no other athletic activity that I actually enjoy in any way, but lately I've been doing even more of it.  Anything that's within a feasible distance, I hoof it.  The grocery store (as long as I'm not stocking up, that is), the nearest mailbox, the local Quizno's (which has unfathomably been replaced by a Subway, an act which deserves a 'Fest' of its very own, surely.)

Not only is this a health-conscious thing for me to do, it's also environmentally friendly (no car = no excess black crap in the air), and, I thought, less-stressful than dealing with L.A. traffic.

L.A. traffic is the worst traffic.  Ever.  I refuse to believe otherwise.  It's not just the sheer, overwhelming number of cars on the road...it's the utter stupidity out there, the unbelievable jerk-wads who think they have the right to zip in and out of lanes, the abundance of pickup trucks piled high with oodles of construction/repair/furniture odds and ends that I just KNOW are going to come flying out of that truck bed and through my windshield one of these days.

It stresses me out.  Bad.  I try to drive as little as possible.  Hence, more walking.

Where I encounter PEDESTRIANS.

What I have discovered, to my despair, is that just because you've taken the drivers out of their cars, doesn't mean you've made them any less rude and/or moronic.

Perhaps it's just my humble Midwestern sensibility - I go out of my way to step out of an elderly woman's path, I hustle across the intersection if a car is waiting for me, things of that nature.  It's just common courtesy to me.  I can't imagine doing anything else.

It seems that not everyone was brought up with such lofty ideals.  Certainly not the family who continued to walk all four abreast as we approached one another on a narrow strip of sidewalk.  Me with my two overflowing grocery sacks (because, of course, I always get just a liiiiittle bit more than I should, considering I have no motor vehicle with me), them laughing, talking, ignoring the fact that I was coming steadily closer.

You know how this ends.  I moved off the sidewalk.  I was actually forced OFF THE SIDEWALK by these a$$holes who couldn't see fit, not even one of them, to at least drop back.

Unbelievable.  I'm not asking you people to walk in the freaking street, I wanted to shout back at them.  And this happens to me ALL OF THE TIME.  It blows my mind.  It is SO rude.

My mood was only worsened by the pair of giggling teenage girls standing at the next stoplight.  They were there before me, so I assumed that they had already pushed the walk button - silly me!  Now, normally I would push it in any case, never knowing if someone was a forgetful goober or if the system had registered the request or whatever, but in this case the girls were of course standing directly in front of the button.  I didn't ask them if they'd pushed the button, nor did I ask them politely to move aside so that I could do so - after all, that would be rude.

The light changed.  The red hand stayed put.  The girls looked confused.  They pushed each other jokingly.  A car, which had been waiting to make a right-hand turn in front of us, had to pull to a sudden stop as the girls decided, last minute, to simply make a dash for it.  

And me?  I got to wait on the corner through two more light changes.

Is a little courtesy too much to ask here??  The willing stupidity and downright obnoxious behavior that these people are soaking in disgusts me.  People have no respect!!

Oh god, I'm becoming an old person.  Well, put me in a home then - it's gotta be better than the stuff I've gotta deal with out here.

Stop.  Breathe.  Breathe.  Anger dissipating.  Okay...whoo.

Clearly, these walks are going to be the death of me.