how to be polite

snippets that i enjoyed from this article: 

• When you are at a party and are thrust into conversation with someone, see how long you can hold off before talking about what they do for a living. And when that painful lull arrives, be the master of it. I have come to revel in that agonizing first pause, because I know that I can push a conversation through. Just ask the other person what they do, and right after they tell you, say: “Wow. That sounds hard.”
• I see people as having around them a two or three foot invisible buffer. If there is a stray hair on their jacket I ask them if I can pluck it from them. If they don’t want that, they’ll do it themselves. If their name is now Susan, it’s Susan. Whatever happens inside that buffer is entirely up to them. It has nothing to do with me.
• People silently struggle from all kinds of terrible things. They suffer from depression, ambition, substance abuse, and pretension. They suffer from family tragedy, Ivy-League educations, and self-loathing. They suffer from failing marriages, physical pain, and publishing. The good thing about politeness is that you can treat these people exactly the same. And then wait to see what happens. You don’t have to have an opinion. You don’t need to make a judgment. I know that doesn't sound like liberation, because we live and work in an opinion-based economy. But it is. Not having an opinion means not having an obligation. And not being obligated is one of the sweetest of life’s riches.
• This is not a world where you can simply express love for other people, where you can praise them. 

it's rather sad that this isn't all common knowledge. then again, the whole thing is rather sad. 

https://medium.com/message/how-to-be-polite-9bf1e69e888c

i liked everything

Warhol: Someone said that Brecht wanted everybody to think alike. I want everybody to think alike. But Brecht wanted to do it through Communism, in a way. Russia is doing it under government. It’s happening here all by itself without being under a strict government; so if it’s working without trying, why can’t it work without being Communist? Everybody looks alike and acts alike, and we’re getting more and more that way.
I think everybody should be a machine. I think everybody should like everybody.
Art News: Is that what Pop Art is all about?
Warhol: Yes. It’s liking things.
Art News: And liking things is like being a machine?
Warhol: Yes, because you do the same thing every time. You do it over and over again.

it seems true though. pop culture does turn everyone into a machine. a mindless machine who just likes what others like and never really thinks for themselves. it's strange really. do i like bananas? i wonder what it would be like to live in a world without advertising and subliminal messages. omg. has anyone else ever seen (i can't believe i'm going to say this) josie and the pussycats? the movie from 2001? (i had to look that up...) now i'm mildly (read totally) afraid that the things i like, i don't actually like. i've just been brainwashed into liking them. totally terrible. but possibly true.

http://www.wired.com/2014/08/i-liked-everything-i-saw-on-facebook-for-two-days-heres-what-it-did-to-me/?utm_source=nextdraft&utm_medium=email

just another day at the office

i can't tell if i'm super irritable/anxious due to pressing deadlines, my period (which i'm not even 100% sure is due yet... i should really start keeping track of that...), or jenna. impending doom.

this week has been rough. i see a revised draft of a letter and i start to freak out that this is the third or fourth time i've had to revise it. programs aren't working right for me. i got up this morning, happy but wishing i could stay in bed. blew a circuit because we had two coffee makers running. got dressed, looking pretty cute. then for the second time since wearing this top, i spilled my entire cup of coffee all over the place. seriously, i'm walking out to the car - i have my ipod (which needs to be charged), my purse, my toast/breakfast and my giant travel mug of coffee in my hands. i open the door, put my coffee mug on the roof of my car and it spills all over the roof, dripping down into my open car door, my ipod falls on the ground, my toast is wet. coffee on my shirt/skirt/cardigan/shoes. so i did what any rational person would do. i cried. no i didn't. i wanted to freak out and quit my job and never leave my room again. but that's not going to solve anything. so i picked up my ipod, put my toast in my car, shut the car door. i went inside, assessed the damages. not too bad. i can handle a day with limited coffee on me. poured myself a new cup of coffee and headed back out. today can suck it. i'm winning.

this of course is followed by my coming into the office to have a mini-anxiety/meltdown. normally i love having a lot to work on. i love having work waiting for me on my desk because that means i don't have to pretend to be busy or do any of those other things i really should be doing but am not. like filing. or billing. blah. but seeing this letter revised again and corrections that i should have caught staring me down. my anxiety starts bouncing off the roof. and the impending doom of knowing that at any moment jenna could walk in the door and scream my name in that high pitch happy voice that sends my nerves to freakouttown.

so i'm sitting. it's not even 9 am and i've already gotten two documents accomplished. no one else has arrived yet. thankfully. i wish they would all take the day off and leave me to my peace. instead of my countdown til school starts, this year it's my countdown until their fall vacation (25 days of bliss). and then hopefully til second semester when they realize that homeschooling is a bad/impossible idea. and i can leave my car with the peace of knowing that i can walk through the office and no one will ask me "hello emily. how ya doin' emily? can i help you with your work? can i do your hair? can you play with me?" with these words, my uterus shrivels up into a dust heap. perhaps my body blames jenna for my complete and utter non-desire for children and that's why the thought of coming to work sends me into a full on period symptom mess.

* did i mention i'm pretty sure someone used/opened my umbrella that i leave here which i'm not even sure where it was at my desk and has left it on the front floor? why, people? can't a girl get any privacy/alone time?

oh. is that the real route of my issues?