I used to ask people what they’d do if it was the end of the world.
The popular answer to this scenario was: “I’d spend the time with loved ones, somewhere naturally beautiful and calming, like the beach.”
In retrospect, that’s absurd. If it’s the end of the world, there’s a good chance that A) war broke out and it’s not safe to be outdoors, either from fallout, biological weapon residue or angry people with guns or B) Nature finally reacted to our ceaseless pollution and is going to kill us. If natural beauty is going to kill me (see: tsunami), I don’t want to hang out with it.
I would like to be with my loved ones, though. Unless, they too were attempting to kill me. (see: homicide).
But, if I couldn’t be with my loved ones, I’d pick McCain’s new running mate Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin.
Why Sarah Palin?
Well, for one thing, she wants to drill in the Alaska National Wildlife Refuge. I think the actual drilling is a pretty stupid idea, but this proves Gov. Palin at least has access to heavy machinery. Did you see Armageddon? Yeah, one of those drills. We could build an underground fort, thus lengthening our survival by at least 3 days, the maximum time that the human body can survive without water.
Another thing: Gov. Palin is a member of the National Rifle Association. Not only does she fish and hunt (more food for me), but unless she’s a total poser of an NRA member or she hunts with a boomerang, she can shoot a gun. Not that I necessarily support violence, but hey, it’s the end of the world and baby needs lunch.
Finally, if you’re attacked by other survivors who are trying to steal your fort, or your freshly-hunted food supply assuming you have one, it’s good to have basketball point guard “Sarah Barracuda” on your side. In case you aren’t familiar with what a barracuda looks like, here’s a reminder:
I rest my case.
Click here for more terrifying facts about Sarah Palin, potential VP.
Click here to read how Palin balances McCain and here to read about another woman’s perspective on Palin.
There’s a space for your potatoes, your hamburger and your salad, with little walls in between so your dressing doesn’t leak all over the place and make your bun foul and unclean. (I.e. soggy.)
I love those plates. My food doesn’t like to touch. And yes, I know it all mixes together in my stomach. But, my friends, my taste buds are in my MOUTH.
Boundaries are Good
This need for boundaries also extends to my everyday life. I need a balance of time for myself, for work, for friends, family and my husband, and time for millions of strangers (i.e. the internet).
Work time ends promptly at 4:30, except on Wednesdays when it extends to 5:00 to make up for an extra 30 minutes at lunch. This is the first job where I’ve ever held to a schedule, and forced myself to eat somewhere besides at my desk. I’ve always worked 9, 10, 11 hour days, plus coming home and checking my email. If it’s every once in awhile, you suck it up and pitch in. If it’s every day, you’re a dope and need to be shaken soundly.
This Took a Long Time to Learn.
I was given a sound mental shake at my last job, which was a lot like the time my high school Bio class repeatedly carried buckets of water into the woods behind the school in order to put out root fires. I’ve since learned to say to myself, “Class, the forest is burning. Get out or you will be immolated.”
It took an extreme situation for me to make this life change. Some people keep plugging away, members of the bucket brigade for life.
Sometimes, it’s all you can do to keep trying, and I commend that. But, sometimes, you won’t ever see a solution because you’re worn out and just don’t have the energy.
This is When You Should Step In
If you see someone like that, help them. Make sure it’s a real crisis situation, not a personal problem - I’ve gone on crusades before, then found out that I only had half the story. But if there’s a valid beef, help out where you can. You can escalate the problem so the right person is aware of it. You can stand on a chair and scream for help if you need to. Sometimes you just need to be there to listen.
Do what you can, but do it smart. Don’t just pick up a bucket and start hauling in tandem. Assess the situation, and if you’ve got a full-on blazing inferno, don’t try to fix it with small solutions. Gear up for a big change, and call the freaking fire department.
Michael Ian Black’s post Lake Compounce talks about his reluctance to ride a roller coaster with his son. He makes it through twice, but declines a third round, because, as he says, “[I]f we ride it again, Daddy is going to die.”
First I thought, hahaha, Michael Ian Black, you’re old. Then I realized, oh blast, I’m old.
So, here are the Top 10 Reason Why Leanne Is Old:
I only go to concerts with seats. None of this ridiculous stand for 3 hours business. That’s for you crazy leaping fan people.
I know who Matt Lauer is. I watch him in the mornings and wish he did the “where in the world” segment more often.
I remember when libraries didn’t have computer records. I also had a set of encyclopedias, because there was no internet.
I took the SATs when the highest score you could get was 1600.
I’m no longer the youngest person in my office. Not even close - I think 6th? 7th?
Thinking about having children makes me feel warm and fuzzy, rather than nauseated.
I carry around a bag of non-recreational drugs, in case of headaches, muscle spasms, allergy attack, stomach pain or mortal injury. This isn’t hypochondria, I just like to be prepared.
I’m learning to say no to people without guilt, and I’m learning to forgive myself for the fact that sometimes, I just do dumb things.
I am more honest with myself.
Being older’s not the worst thing in the world - there are definite compensations. For one, a facial blemish is no longer directly linked to the imminent destruction of the world. For another, I’m grateful for the time I’ve spent in the company of good people. I’d never want to go back in time and give that up.
Also, imagine having to relearn everything you’ve learned up until now. It would take me years to re-perfect the ability to lift just one eyebrow.
How about you? What makes you feel old, even if you’re not? Who or what makes growing older worthwhile for you? On that note…
If only Charlie the Unicorn and the Onion could join forces and fight for world domination. I would not be able to resist. I know I’ve posted this before, but it’s just never the wrong time for Charlie the Unicorn.
I mean, no offense, but forget Joe Biden - if I were choosing a running mate, I’d just create a Consortium of the Ridiculous and run with them, instead. Although, if he knows what a Leoplueradon actually is, I might have to vote for him.
My husband and I were driving home from work today when we noticed that the car to our left (pictured above) was about to drive into the side of our car.
Now, it might just be me, but as far as I know, you can’t change lanes if there’s a car parallel to you in the lane you want to be in. This is not manners, road rules, or even common sense. This is a law of physics - matter cannot occupy the same physical space as other matter.
So, needless to say, we were slightly alarmed. The driver kept coming closer and closer to our car, presumably in order to avoid being stuck in a left-turn-only lane.
Here were her options:
Brake, and wait for a clear spot.
Turn left, then retrace your steps or find another route.
Keep driving into the car beside you. It will dematerialize if you wish upon a star.
You can guess which one old 580ERV chose.
As my friend Kate likes to say, “Make a better choice.”
We were moving slowly enough to avoid a crash, and we ended up braking and letting her in. After all, we weren’t sure if she had just accidentally gotten into the wrong lane in the first place. This happens to everyone. The trouble is, in that particular spot, people often use that lane to bypass everyone else and then cut back in, so it’s hard to tell.
So, Tell Me About Your Sense of Fair Play:
Is is okay for people like Illustrious Driver 580ERV to do this if they are just accidentally in the wrong lane and never intended to cut in line?
Is all fair in love, war & traffic - if people can get into the lane, they should do it, and if you don’t like it, stay away from cars.
Or, should we have followed her home, waited until she slept, broken into her car, and filled it with the slain bodies of sea crabs, so it had a nice, fresh aroma when she got up to go to work?
What does your sense of fair play say? What do you do when you’re faced with the hazards of driving with bad drivers? And, in a misguided attempt to channel all your driving rage ever in one vengeful act, do you know where I can get a couple hundred sea crabs?
I went to the mall tonight with my roommate from college.
We were leaving Panera when I saw the most disturbing thing since the animated version of Watership Down.
Check it out yourself:
If you can’t quite see it, it’s a picture of a teddy bear in sunglasses, slowly turning a crank attached to the machine he’s standing on.
Inside the machine, piles of fluffy bear guts are spewing out and cycling around and around, moved by the bear on top.
This is so ominous.
What is the purpose of this?
Killer teddy bears?
Why did the bear kill all his companions? Why did he put their remains into a lit-up box and mix them all together? More disturbing still, what marketing director thought that this was a positive message for children?
I am mystified. Take another look:
What is going on here? Please make up an evil reason as to why this bear is so angry with his friends that he is attempting to liquefy them through centrifugal force.
Yesterday, Jon got really upset with a family of chipmunks, so he beat the hell out of them with his 5 Iron.
Kidding, kidding - we were just playing golf.
Which brings us to my Dream Job, and why it should be yours.
On a driving range there’s a vehicle that drives over the course, scoops up golf balls from the field, and carts them back to be cleaned, put lovingly into buckets (don’t burst this bubble, guys, my mental stability may depend on it) and reused.
Then, this wonderful process begins all over again. It’s like the water cycle, but better, because you can remember all the parts.
My favorite part is not when you thwack the ball with your club, and it goes flying in a satisfying (or not) manner. It is when the vehicle rolls by. So, I know it’s huge, and unwieldy looking, and as an armored car, it leaves much to be desired.
But it’s just awesome. You get to drive around and essentially have small white balls of shrapnel speeding towards your head at many miles an hour. And you don’t get hurt.
It’s like being superman.
Seriously, if you’re going to dominate the world, you should look into invincibility and invulnerability. It’s important. And what better way than to encase yourself in a metal cage of movable body armor?
Think about it. You get to tool around on a pretty landscape (it has to be pretty, or the clients get antsy), eat great snacks from the inevitable ice cream stand nearby and if you strayed off the field? Think of all the interesting things you could pick up with your scooper/sucker thing. It’s better than a tank (although I’d suggest building on a more advanced form of offensive weaponry, like a built-on trebuchet for angry, venomous snakes.).
Even if you can’t go faster than a speeding bullet or leap tall buildings in a single bound, you’re pretty unstoppable. And, if you’re a family of chipmunks, your life just got a whole lot easier.
There are few household chores that I enjoy less than moving clothes from the washer to the dryer.
Well, okay that’s an exaggeration. I don’t like cleaning toilets, I hate sweeping (why sweep, you’re just going to mop it up anyway) and dusting causes me to have allergy attacks that leave me incapacitated for 30 minutes to an hour afterward.
Be that as it may, doing laundry’s never going to be one of those things that makes me jump for joy. (Except when it’s really cold out and the sheets are fresh from the dryer and I can nap in them. You don’t even need a bed, just roll out on the floor.)
I hang dry a fair amount of my clothes so they won’t shrink. Yes, I’ve thought about getting a size larger, but it just doesn’t fit the same afterward. So sorting through my clothes makes laundry a bit more of a project. Worse, Jon’s taken to doing the same - one of the perks of living with someone is that you’re weird quirks rub off.
Today, yet again, I thought to myself, you know, if I marked these clothes with a laundry marker, sorting them would be faster and more efficient. This is true. But have I ever taken the time to pick up a laundry marker? (Which may, in fact, just be a fancy word for Sharpie, I’m unclear on that.) It’s just never a priority.
So, when does a pain point become so unbearable that you decide to act on it? What things in your life do you just put off and put off until you are forced into action? And how bad does something have to get before you change it?
It might be worth trying to change this by devoting a day to accomplishing all the life-changing tasks that you can reasonably manage in one day. How much would this change your life? Besides the small satisfaction that comes from making little positive changes that directly benefit your daily life, what would the benefits be? Try it, and post how well it went.
I used to think networking was like serial-dating.
You walk into a room full of ready-to-connect (or at least, mildly hopeful) people, and walk out with as many business cards as you can carry comfortably in one of those huge business-style purses, which is to say about fifty or sixty thousand.
After attempting this a few times, I realized that this is not the way to go. I’d leave with the cards, but I’d have only vague ideas of who these people were, and probably made even less of an impression myself. Also, my purse was heavy.
A 2 minute chat is unlikely to lead to a meaningful connection. Especially if you’re just covering the basics, and aren’t really listening to each other.
Ask more specific questions. For example, instead of asking what someone does for a living, ask them what they’re currently working on, what they’re reading, or their thoughts on the infamous Shetland Pony Massacre of ‘73, then wipe a tear from your eye and blow your nose loudly. This last one tends to scare people, but at least you’ll be memorable.
The point is, delve into your conversation a bit more, and see if you have any common ground. You won’t always, but extend to people the courtesy of spending more than 30 seconds to find out. Unless they’re dead boring. Then, covertly set your suit sleeve on fire, pretend to panic, and make your escape.
Leanne’s Perspective on Networking Online
This applies to social networking, too. Ask yourself these questions - Who are my connections? Why are I connected with them? If I was trapped in a room with all of them for 72 hours, which of them would move me to attempt self-immolation?
There are good and bad reasons to add people to your network. Some people like to add everyone who reaches out them. Some people go hunting for connections, and add dozens of random people, just to be connected. With so many directories out there (“The Top 50 most connected people out of 26 million+ LinkedIn members!”, Twitter’s Top Followed, Plurkmania), it’s easy to decide that EVERYONE is your friend, or should be.
But how much time do you take to devote to these friendships?
Alternatively, some people only add people they know in real life. This turns me off more than soggy beets soaked in bleu cheese dressing. Making new connections is part of the beauty of social networking - not only can you find or form communities with others with common interests, but you can connect with people completely out of your everyday arena as well.
My goal is to strive for a happy medium. This is tough for me, because I tend to do things to excess. To keep myself in check, I go by this system: I add real life personal and professional contacts if they use the same networks as I do, and after that I only add people who seem particular witty, kind, or informative. And yes, I have my share of gurus whom I add because I want to learn from them.
Questions for You (Yes, You, You Sexy Beast.)
Those are my guidelines, what are yours?
How meaningful are your connections? How would you define a meaningful connection?
Are you a good connection (do you offer others time, your services, your advice or connections)?
And most importantly, what are your thoughts on the infamous Shetland Pony Massacre of ‘73?
I have to take a moment here and do a tribute post. Don’t worry, it won’t be boring, it won’t consist solely of links, and there is a definite reason that you should do what it says.
Recently, someone sent me a link to howmuchisyoursoulworth.com. We were discussing online quizzes, and he brought this up as an example. He had originally found it on JohnChow.com, and John Chow, I have to hand it to you - thanks for posting about this. And, thanks to the co-worker, who directed me to it.
I love this quiz. I want to seek out the writer behind it, and hire them as a copywriter for my World Domination propaganda pamphlets. And all my World Domination marketing campaign landing pages. You go, Satanically-inspired writers of the world, get your freak on.
I’ll tell you one thing. I set that #($*#) line on fire. And, I wish I could apply that to lines in traffic, too.
In conclusion, I have no idea what a soul dollar is, but I suddenly have a burning desire to know the soul dollar worth of everyone I know.
Take the quiz! Post your worth! Force your friends to doubt (or be impressed by) their self-worth by making them take this, solely for my amusement. It’s fun, and it’s what a good friend would do.
I used to ask people what they’d do if it was the end of the world.
