On another note

Have you ever looked at your friends?
What a silly question, I know. I mean, we look at our friends everyday (in fact, one of them needs a shave, I think), but, of course, I'm talking about a different kind of "looking". The metaphorical kind that goes much deeper than the skin, than the ordinary.
Yesterday I noticed something about my friends, I noticed that of a fairly large group of us we want to become teachers, doctors, psychologists, humanitarians, and various other things that involve helping others, guiding others. Now, I realize that it's quite common for people, especially the young and impressionable types of people found in universities to want to help others. However, I find it excessively interesting that somehow, through what could largely be random chance, we have found and surrounded ourselves with such types of people. None of us want to be historians, lawyers (I don't think), librarians, bankers, accountants, etc. We aren't interested in putting a coldness between us and others. We aren't in this education business for the sole reason of making money. All of us can agree that money is nice, money is necessary, but ultimately the majority of us are interested in "humanity". And it doesn't matter what our faculty is.
We all have that interest invested in others. How does this happen? How do people come together, friends mostly because we live conveniently in the same building, in the same hallway, and end up with this deep-rooted likeness to each other. Of all of the people who I first met, first hung out with, I now live with three, and am friends with all. The first thing we asked was not, "what is your purpose in life", though, oddly enough, this was our first drunken philosophical conversation, approximately a week and a half after meeting. I am aware that people befriend based on convenience and similarity, but I find it remarkable that we found each other. Was it chance? Was it instant realization that basically we must all have such similar backgrounds and goals? Are all university students now just in it for others?
Who knows. One day I might actually study these questions, but as for now I remain overtired at eleven pm, and procrastinating from my studies that will turn me into a humanitarian. I hope.

In class surfing.

You've got to wonder just what people get up to on their laptops.
It's this tiny little database of everything you could possibly be interested in, it has the ability to hold all your thoughts (word processing), all your memories (photos/videos), all of your personal preferences... someone's laptop says a lot about them. But, what I wonder, is just what people use them for, which also makes me wonder exactly what classroom laptop etiquette is.
I mean, if someone's got Facebook up and is quite obviously creeping on some cute guy they just met, or jealously photo-stalking a friend, are you allowed to watch? It is in the middle of a room, and they've got to be aware of the other people around them, but what they're doing represents that evil part of your person. The part of you that obsesses over that guy, the part of you that secretly hates your friend, your classmates aren't supposed to witness that piece of yourself.
So why are you making it so goddamn easy?

I was sitting in Creative Writing they other day, and I noticed the girl next to me was idly browsing the internet. No big deal. The next time I looked back at her screen, though, she was intensely reading a Wikipedia article about Stockholm syndrome. Why? Of course, I quickly looked away, I didn't really think she'd appreciate me goggling at the fact she's reading an article about what can happen to someone who's been kidnapped. And then I started thinking, had she recently been kidnapped? Was she in an abusive relationship she likened to being kidnapped? Did she know someone in a cult who she thought was experienceing Stockholm syndrome? Had she simply NEVER paid attention to any psych/sociology/any humanities course/TV show about spies/etc, and therefore did not understand the term "Stockholm syndrome"? Had she accidentally clicked on it and just decided to read it? Did she just happen to have a seriously intense reading face?
All of these thoughts were flowing through my mind when I was supposed to be thinking about the setting of my short story.
I was so confused, though. I wanted to ask her why she was reading that, but something told me that it probably wasn't very good laptop etiquette to admit that I had been reading over her shoulder. And what if she was suffering from Stockholm syndrome? I can imagine it would be a rather touchy subject. But why look at something like that in class? Why allow everyone sitting around you to see exactly what's going on inside your head?
It's like that scene in Batman Forever, when the Riddler has that weird TV device that takes your thoughts and projects them in front of you. Side note: why does Batman have bats on the brain? I mean, that can't be the only thing going on up there. Anyways, it's almost as thought Batman Forever was telling the future, laptops have quite clearly become the things upon which our thoughts are projected.
Is this good or bad?
I have yet to decide.

More to... what?

I feel like it's kind of wrong to capitalize off "fat" people.
I am, of course, talking about the show 'More to Love' that I watch partially to feel good about myself, partially to laugh, and partially because it holds the same morbid fascination as a car wreck. I understand that the basic premise of the show is to demonstrate that plus-size people can find love too. Apparently, the average size of a woman on a dating show is a 2 and the average size of the people on this show has got to be 14 and upwards. The only thing I'm not understanding is that if the average size of a woman in North America is a 12, which likely means most women hover around there, but also fall below at both 8 and 10, how come, in the name of showing this, the woman on this show are bordering on the cusp of unhealthy?
I understand the aspect of portraying part of our culture that usually doesn't get much air-time in favor of the skinnier counterparts. I also feel as though this kind of program is glorifying obesity. It's not like I'm a part of the population that's 2, but I still am uncomfortable with the capitalization off "fat".
Putting the insecurities up on TV, listening to at least one woman bemoan wearing a bathing suit every single week also doesn't seem like something designed to muster the sensitivity of viewers. I feel like it's designed so that people can either a. laugh at it or b. feel better about their own self esteem because of it.
This is, however, an incredibly touchy subject. Am I saying that I don't believe that the plus-sized should be entitled to love? To trashy dating shows? No, I'm asking why it's necessary they have their own? Why must they be segregated from the population? Is it wholly acceptable that there has to be dating shows for "skinny" people and dating shows for "fat" people.
I've watched both of these varieties. On the "skinny" shows, it's all about sex and chemistry, on the "fat" show, it's largely about self-esteem and "loving for what's on the inside". I'm on episode 6 and there has still been no hot house hook-up. The thing is, I think the guy on 'More to Love' is just as douchey as the other Bachelors out there. Just because he's plus-sized, doesn't mean he's a total player who's learned to say the words, "I really want to get to know you deeper, what you're really all about" while making puppy-dog eyes. In one episode one of the ladies is looking at a breath-taking view of the city, he says it's beautiful, she says "I know", and he goes, "I was talking about you". And then I vomited. Just a little. In my mouth.
Basically what I have a problem with is the segregation of "skinny" and "fat" when really I don't think those things make a really large difference of who a person is. There are teeny mega-bitches, and there are plus-sized mega-bitches. So, capitalizing off the "fat" aspect of a show, unless it's something legitimate, like "The Biggest Loser" which is about health and improving for the sake of yourself, is wrong. It's not demonstrating "understanding" for different kinds of people, it's putting barriers between people.

BTS

Ohh BTS. In Vancouver it's greeted by intermittent rain and sun, falling leaves, and a general quaint-ness in the air.
I have always felt like Back-to-School is the beginning of a season. Ok, yes, September is the technical beginning of autumn, so what?! But anyways, it's not just the beginning of the "fall" season, but also something that happens more in the mind. The gears seem to click from summer laziness into a larger focus, things start to happen. Having classes gives everyone a sense of purpose greater than a random summer job, or sitting on the couch watching really bad MTV, but it also gives everyone a sense of wanting to do something. People want relationships, they want friendships, they want to start in with clubs, and, I think, people want to feel as though they are a part of something.
Now, I'm not sure if the sense of purpose is just an off-shoot of starting school, the epitome of "purpose", at the same time every year since we can remember, or if it's the physical seasonal change. Most likely, it's a combination of both. I mean, after four months of sitting around, dozing in the sun, and reading crappy vampire teen books, there's a bit of a snap, and that "if I don't do something I might actually go insane". But also, as the hot weather tapers off and we can't laze on the beach, it seems appropriate we find other ways to keep warm. We join things, we meet people, we do.

However, the initial hustle is dying down, and I can feel a burn out coming on. My housemates and I are sleepier in the mornings, we're more tired at night. Perhaps we're just adjusting, or perhaps the summer was just too good to us.

Don't you wanna...

Fanta?

Just kidding.
Though, a fizzy beverage would be nice right now.
But seriously, don't you ever want to say, "Let's get real here". Don't you want to be that earth-shattering, soul-crushing, oh-so-satisfying, reality check. The "REALLY?" from SNL, but every night, and day?
Don't you want to avoid all that guilt that you just know will come welling up afterwords?

Check out www.getrealzies.blogspot.com and send them your guilty pleasure of reality checks via email.

A Little Shout Out from the Silent Bob of This Operation

I may not be on campus but I've got a few tricks up my sleves. So keep your trampy commuter stamp to yourself and sleep with one eye open UBC, cause I'm not going anywhere.

Memo to Consumers

My days of working in a retail, mainstream, clothing store are nearly over. Four shifts remain, standing between me and freedom of the perpetual fold. Even if I remain in the customer service industry, which I will, there is a list I feel I must make. An ode of sorts to my customers.

You're walking into the store. It is neat, clean, respectable. Your first instinct upon spotting the item you're looking for is to rifle through the piles, grabbing one of each color of course, and leaving only disaster in your wake. You realize you have grabbed the wrong size, you ask the nearest Fitting Room Attendant to find you the right ones. In every color. After trying on each shirt, you drop them unceremoniously onto the bench in your change room and select one (ONE) to actually buy. You want another color, one you did not see on the table, so you pester an available Sales Associate for it. Finding that we do not, you go up to pay and heckle over the price because somewhere on your journey you have seen a price that says "5 Dollars". The Cashier insists you are wrong. You demand to speak with a manager. The manager is summoned, and promptly dismisses you, telling the cashier to charge you the demanded price for the shirt. You leave the store with a sense of triumph.

"You" are my days and nights. And there are a few things you should know.

1. That table you first ruined? I've folded every single shirt on it more times than I can count. I will do it again and glare at you as you leave the vicinity. If I catch your eye and you feign bashfulness, whispering "sorry", I will hold back a biting response. Contrary to popular belief, "sorry" doesn't fold things. I do. All day.
2. Even if something comes in different colors, they will all fit you the same if they are in the same size.
3. That size? You should know it. You're 26 and up.
4. You may think that it's our job, but we're not there solely to dash off and get you sizes, in each color you've picked out. We, the Sales Associate, have shit to do. If you're going to need someone to be at your beck and call, bring a friend or family member. The same goes for telling you if you're butt looks alright in those pants. Let's face it, it's weird for both of us.
5. If you open the fitting room door upon getting a size, and you're naked, even if you're standing behind the door, we can still see you. There is a mirror right next to you, and yes, this is also awkward for us.
6. If you're in a couple, no you may not change together. I don't care if you're both V4L, children are changing in rooms all around you and the last thing their parents need is to be faced with the question of "what are those sounds?". I also do not need to catch flak from those parents. Don't be exhibitionists.
7. I am not your mother. When you leave clothes all over the floor and bench in those tiny fitting rooms, I do not enjoy having to clean up after you. Argue that it's "my job" all you want, but it's called common courtesy, and you should find it.
8. In the back of every store is a magical door through which everything you have ever asked an Associate for resides. Sizes, colors, you name it. You know this because you always seem to ask if we have any "in the back" - a code for this place. This place is also home to all of the mythical creatures from the land of Narnia.
9. Illiteracy is still a problem in this country. I know this because even if the sign says "dresses" you will still insist that it is for the shirts seven feet from it.
10. You're belief system is strong. So much so that you will fight for a fifty cent difference since you believe it is right. I think "cheap", you think "righteous". You are not a knight, this is not Camelot, it is fifty cents.
11. That manager that you felt an instant sense of comradeship with when she told me to "go ahead and do it", by default agreeing with you, is not your friend. Fifty seconds after you leave they will turn to me and ask exactly what you have gotten stuck up your ass that morning. I will speculate various objects, making them laugh.
12. There are some of you that I like, that I want to help, that I want to give discounts to. These are the ones who have worked in retail, who have made this list in their head. They understand. You should be this person, perhaps then you could find Narnia, too.