When they floated their latest ideas to me, I claimed ignorance of the genre (which was true) and pointed them to some online writing communities they might want to explore. Did that help? No. They kept on sending me novel synopses, book suggestions, CCing me on correspondence to author they liked, etc. It was embarrassing. I would write back and say I no longer had time to do beta reads or give feedback on new ideas, but that didn’t stop them. They even friended me on Facebook, and then defriended me when I ignored their exhortations to read The Hunger Games trilogy (which I do plan on reading, at least the first book, but I didn’t decide to do so until I got feedback from readers that I actually trusted). I thought the defriending meant it was over! But no!

How many “no’s” do I have to write here? Too many.

Anyway, the latest in this series of unfortunate events was an email I received from the writer’s (and I use that term loosely) spouse who is my colleague. They sent me the final manuscript of last year’s beta read and suggested I might want to read it during a long plane ride I’m no longer taking. I was like LOL QUE?

Original artwork by `ursulav

I mean, first of all, I’ve made it clear to this person’s spouse that I’m not interested in reading their stuff anymore; the first beta read was fine (if painful), but when you want subsequent beta reads? You ask. You don’t just send the manuscripts and say “Let me know your thoughts.” No. (There we go again.) That’s rude. You ask if they might possibly have time to beta read for you again, understanding if they don’t. You don’t CC them on embarrassing emails to published authors; you don’t send them synopses and then email them again when the person doesn’t respond in a timely fashion (like, one day allowance given). You don’t keep them abreast of your efforts to get published, especially when the person has expressed absolutely no interest in your endeavors. You don’t continue to send your stuff when the person has said they have no time. Accept the initial feedback, then back off—if the person doesn’t want to be involved, don’t try to force it.

Second of all, way to presume that I want to read your spouse’s novel on eleven flights. I bring my books, music and movies (hey, my backpack is a veritable Borders! Except not bankrupt) for a reason, and that’s because I want to keep myself entertained in my own way. You can kindly suggest that I consider reading something, but not in a situation where a) you’re going to be on the same flight, 2) your spouse is going to be on the same flight, watching me reading their novel (which I did not like, not one bit!), and III) I’ve already said I’m not doing any further work on their writing. Like, fuck no!

I’ve gotten to the point where I ignore the writer’s emails. I’ve already said, multiple times, that I no longer have time to beta read. I’m fortunately not traveling with these people this summer after all. I hope it ends now!

What else do I need to do to make this go away?

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

This whole kid thing is confusing and IP and I are trying to work it out. It doesn’t help that there’s pressure on many sides, including societal, that seem to dictate that, as a successful, happily married couple, we must now procreate. We’re trying to tease out if it’s what we want, but society seems to be saying, to me especially, that it is what I must want.

And that’s really kind of annoying.

The most annoying manifestation of this comes from coworkers. I have certain coworkers who are mommy-jackers extraordinaire—they seize any opening, no matter how small, to start talking about their kids, how wonderful their kids are, how amazing parenthood is, and how the childless among them should get knocked up, post haste.

Eye roll. I consider their unsolicited contributions to my soul searching to be annoying and of no value. However, these are the same people who would say “I told you so!” if we decided to have kids, and would actually believe that they somehow influenced our decision to have kids. That really chaps my hide. I know there must be ways to deal with that, but I’ll confess: there’s a huge part of me that doesn’t want to give certain people the chance to have any satisfaction, no matter how illusory (because it is not about them!), so I put kids on the backburner. I refuse to discuss it with them any longer. I have been attempting to build boundaries and try to be discreet: this is not their business.

But you know what’s the most puzzling and annoying phrase that has ever escaped a coworker’s mouth about the kid thing? “We’re praying for you!”

“Whositwhatnow?” says atheist WorNerd.

“We’re praying for you.” As in, “We’re praying for you to have a baby,” after I shrug and say that IP and I are still deciding. After I firmly say that there will be no pregnancy announcements within the next few months. When I say that this is between IP and me. Still, a coworker always says “We’re praying for you.”

So, let’s ask: what are they praying for exactly?

For my birth control to fail? For some kind of deity to reach down into my womb and render said birth control useless so that IP may impregnate me, as is the natural order of things? For me to forget to take my birth control? Because not having a kid right now is an active, conscious choice.

For us to come to a decision to have kids (but not the decision to be childfree)? Because if you’re praying for some deity to twist my thinking and make me want what I might, in reality, not want, that’s not cool, dude! According to your religion, I have free will and should be able to make my decision without divine intervention.

And what good would it do to have a kid come about as a result of divine intervention thanks to you, praying coworker? Especially since the kid’s going to be raised by two atheist parents. Doesn’t that make us unfit parents or something?

Mmm, tasty babies! Hat tip to The Friendly Atheist

Hmm . . . conundrum!

It feels like a “Come to your senses and just get pregnant already!” kind of mandate that is off-putting. Add to that my lack of spirituality and religion, and you’ve got my hair standing up on end whenever this is said. Why is it that, as a society, we insist that Couple W/IP must have baby because it would be so cute! And they would be such good parents! And they’d be an awesome family? And it’s time to start praying for them to do it already! I’ve always been dumbfounded by this because I don’t even pretend to make estimates on anyone’s parental capabilities except for IP, and that’s based on his treatment of me as his girlfriend, fiancée and now wife. When the world sticks its nose in and then basically tells you they’re invoking divine intervention just so they can have the satisfaction of saying “I told you so” about kids, it can be irritating.

If anything, people should be praying that we make a considered, informed decision before inflicting our spawn on the world. I don’t know when careful analysis became something that needed to be prayed away but hey, that’s the current climate for you. Thinking things through carefully and keeping it between ourselves is so yesterday.

I wish people would stay out of it. It is our decision. Not anyone else’s. Not my coworkers, not my family, not the god I don’t believe in, not even the Flying Spaghetti Monster. All prayer should cease and desist.

And that applies to my food, too. No need to pray over my food while we’re out at lunch, please.

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

Yeah. Simple, utter loathing.

Having lost power an insane amount of times during many summers and now once in the winter for a really long time (over not so bad of a storm, people, when it comes to affecting utilities), I can say with certainty: it’s easier to deal with in the summer. Is it fucking hot? Yes, but IP and I don’t mind the cold showers, the sun takes its sweet time to set, and we use vodka tonics as a gateway to sleep (yeah, yeah, judge all you want). In the winter, the apartment gets frigid, the water is ice-cold and the sun hides itself too quickly. Even cuddled together, we’re no match against the cold. And then? The whole not being able to take showers thing sucks. A lot.

Thanks again, Pepco, for this winter wonderland experience. When you make it so I actually go to work early and spend more time there than I have to because it’s at least warm, you are making me violate the principles of my entire being.

Useless tools.

When we got home on Saturday afternoon, we made an assessment of our fridge and ended up cleaning it out thoroughly. After some dual clutter control, I vacuumed (with my Dyson! eeee, I love it!) while IP shoveled the car out of its spot. We then did our best to keep warm as the HVAC company worked on the boiler. As of this writing, it’s still struggling to come on, but at least the HVAC company was here right away as opposed to Pepco’s lack of haste. We might need to have our radiators bled to have full heat again, but at least it’s now warmer than it was on Wednesday and Thursday nights. Thursday night especially was hellish, what with the cold air in the main bedroom and the recurring, teasing dreams I kept on having of the power coming back.

Again, fuck you, Pepco.

Just had to get that out there.

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

I know you love your dog, and I know you feel that your dog should be allowed to be a dog—roam free, run wild, all that jazz. But when you let your two, honking-huge chocolate labs run like crazy in Rock Creek Park, approaching people and leashed dogs that may or may not react kindly to you, I have to ask: what the fuck are you thinking?

Letting the dog run around without a leash in Rock Creek Park is actually against the law, you know. I will grin widely the day I see one of you guys are caught by a park ranger and are ticketed. You and your dog are not above the law, and there are consequences for breaking said law. Getting a ticket is the least of your worries. What happens when your dog bites and injures someone, you, or someone else’s dog that wasn’t amused by your dog’s approach? Will you honestly defend yourself for being a dumbass and breaking the law? Or will you take the “dogs will be dogs!” approach that so many dog owners seem to take in order to avoid responsibility. Listen, if your dog is going to be a dog and you can’t be fussed to train or take care of them fully, you probably shouldn’t be a dog owner.

If there are leash laws, you follow them. I’ve had encounters with dogs as a runner—let me tell you, the encounters ended up turning out badly for the dog. Why? Not because of the dog itself (it was doing what’s in its nature, I can concede that), but because of its owners who a) couldn’t help telling me that Snookums was harmless and 2) couldn’t follow Washtenaw County’s leash laws. Nothing good comes from letting your dog run wild. Usually it’s a world of hurt for you, your dog, someone else, or any combination of the three.

Please leash your dogs. You never, ever know when nature will kick in and a dog fight will start, a kid will get attacked, or you yourself will get hurt trying to yank your dog off of someone (or another dog off of your pet). It’s really not worth the aggravation it causes—the worst thing in the world to hear is the charge of a dog behind IP and me while on a pleasant walk. About half of the time, the dog ignores us. The other half, it wants our attention desperately, and sorry: we’re not giving it. I’m not a “Puppy!” kind of person, and IP actually really, really dislikes dogs. So please be considerate of the facts: a) there’s a law to be followed and 2) not everyone in the world thinks your pet is the bee’s knees. You take the good, you take the bad.

I said it on October 15, 2005 to the good people of Washtenaw County. I now say it to you, Rock Creek visitors who let their dogs run free:

Leash. Your. Damn. DOGS!!!!!!!!!!

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

Seriously. Learn how to drive.

I saw you ahead of me, kind of hesitating to roll up to a light, stopping halfway between a stop sign and red light, and I thought to myself that you were going to hold up traffic trying to exit the shopping center—including me. I rolled my eyes and sighed to IP, “What, he’s going to sit there? Is he afraid of the person asking for change at the crosswalk? Move up to the light!”

As if on command, you did, but you were still striking me as twitchy. Then I noticed the black car edging right next to us, and I knew that it was going to cut you off to make the left turn out of the shopping center. Sure enough, when it was time to go and you hesitated to depress the gas pedal, the black car zoomed out and cut you off. I rolled my eyes at IP again while making the left, “I knew that car was going to do that. Especially given how stupid the white Toyota guy seems.” I was still behind you and realized you were driving s-l-o-w.

IP frowned. “I’d move over to another lane if I were you, this white car’s still kind of acting like an idiot.”

So I did, switching over to the left lane of the three-lane road, leaving you behind quickly. But of course, this is Rockville Pike, so traffic was slow, the lights were against us, and you manage to catch up. I didn’t notice you, though, until you nearly sideswiped my car trying to get over to the left turn lane for the White Flint Mall.

“Whoa!” IP shouted as I hit the brakes. My hand quickly found the horn and I leaned, dear friend in the White Toyota with Virginia Plates Acting All Crazy on Rockville Pike. I leaned for all I was worth because, as Bellatrix Lestrange says to Harry Potter about casting Unforgivable Curses in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, “You need to mean them, Potter.”

I meant it, White Toyota. I consider myself a relatively calm driver, I don’t do stupid stuff on the road and I like getting home without nary a scratch on my car. But you threatened my baby, White Toyota, and I had to subject you to my righteous anger.

I didn’t mention this on the blog, but IP and I recently had an accident that required the replacement of pretty much the entire front end of the passenger side of our car. The accident in question was not our fault and nobody human was hurt. The Mazda dealership on Rockville Pike, though, kicks all kinds of ass. When I picked up the car mere days after dropping off our baby, it was as good as new. I wanted to kiss the collision guy because a) he was so nice and 2) the job they did was great. But as much as I love and appreciate the guys at Congressional Mazda, I did not want to return for a repair so quickly thanks to your idiotic maneuvering on Rockville Pike.

So when I passed you again, once traffic was moving, I again leaned on the horn and IP and I shot you our middle fingers in tandem. Why? Because we’d just had an accident, on the same road, at the same time of day, thanks to something out of our control. We were already nerve-wracked while driving our newly repaired car, enough to make sure we drove far, far away from you, but you snuck up on us and almost ruined our passenger side again. If you had, you can be sure that my full fury, which can be quite intimidating when given free reign, would’ve made your Toyota quake.

But seriously, Driver of the White Toyota with Virginia Plates Acting All Crazy on Rockville Pike—learn how to drive. Or at least how to use your side view mirrors when switching lanes.

Love,

WordNerd and IP

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

Harry Potter!!11eleventy!!11

Now that that’s been cleared up, I find myself typing away at my laptop because I had an unexpected day off; I’ve thus far spent the day getting coffee, being disappointed that they didn’t have any lemon poppy seed muffins, realizing that our co-op was closed so I couldn’t get one of their lemon poppy seed muffins, and doing laundry because our bedspread and sheets needed washing. I am sitting in workout clothes even though I don’t plan to work out–I did weights and high-intensity cardio yesterday, so I’m good for now, thanks. I do plan on heading downtown to have lunch, but other than that, my day is low-key (with the exception of some vacuuming that must be done).

One task I plan of taking care of downtown is finding my sister’s birthday card. I have been searching high and low (okay, I went to CVS and American Greetings), all for naught—why must every card for a woman fall into the following categories?

• Humor Card: contains an image of a cat or a woman holding a glass of wine and/or shopping bags; making reference to how we fear aging, how we’ll be old cat ladies, or how we love to drink wine and shop.
• Serious Card: contains overly long, flowery messages describing the power of love and sisterhood. Accented by butterflies and/or rainbows.

Why can’t I find a card that has a dog on it, makes a reference to beer, and is for a woman and not a man? These strict gender divides are so unnecessary. And why are some greeting cards so damn long? No one wants to read that many words in front of people impatiently waiting to eat cake, you know.

Was the random enough for you? No? Here are few more random thoughts to round off this post:

1. Why do people find it so hard to clean the lint traps in communal dryers? Like the magician from Bugs Bunny says, “Does it hurt very much, sonny boy?” Seriously, do your neighborly duty and clean out the trap. It takes two seconds of your time.
2. I am seriously not getting baby fever. Whenever I have brushes of it, I’ll eventually revolt and get angry because it feels like it’s being imposed on me by outside forces. It seems like every blog or message board I read is “Aww mah gawd, babies!” Are they cute? Yeah. Do I feel the undying need to hold and nurture one that so many of my peers feel? No. I kind of side-eye the traditional gender roles that are being played out: Woman crying “Baby!” while the husband says “Not now, honey.”
3. Why does my company insist on trying to get us to go out to dinner with them? The time is long past for us to want to socialize with them given how they treat us. I received an email wondering if I wanted to do an evening event and I said no. I already spend too much of my time with them, and I would prefer to keep my evenings to myself. If the office had ever cultivated a sense of unity, then maybe I would join in. But they lost me a long time ago.
4. Have you voted yet? If you’re in Montgomery County, you can do the early voting thing until 8pm tonight. Here’s a list of early voting centers if you’re so inclined: Early Voting Sites. IP and I took advantage of this on Monday to do our civic duty (and help out the Dems).

Enjoy the day today! Let’s hope it’s the last of the unnaturally warm fall days.

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

When you couch it in terms of being an experience for your baby, you make me roll my eyes. It’s an experience for you. Which is fine, but just admit that the baby isn’t going to remember being held by Cinderella or feel his/her heart go atwitter at the mention of the Washington Monument and we’re all good.

An example of something that does not bother me is the idea of parents dressing up their infants and going trick-or-treating. For some reason a lot of people find this tacky, like a candy grab, but that doesn’t bother me—better they consume the candy than me—and the babies usually look hilarious and/or adorable. It’s a visual delight, cuteness overload for all involved, so the people who declare it tacky get another eye roll from me. No, the kid also won’t remember, but they really looking funny in that penguin getup! On the same note, teenagers who trick-or-treat also don’t bother me; trick-or-treating is damn fun and we should allow kids to be kids once in a while. Aren’t we always lamenting that they grow up too fast and are exposed to too many terrible things and they just aren’t allowed to be kids? Even if it does involve a candy grab, let them be kids. Why not? I don’t want the candy (well, I do, but I shouldn’t).

So, to be clear: thing that could affect a vacation (though I have no desire to go to Disney) or commute coupled with the idea that it’s in the kid’s best interest—eye roll worthy. Things that don’t affect anything other than the diminution of a candy count that should be at zero at the end of the night anyway—not eye roll worthy.

Yes, I’m feeling judge-y today.

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

How goes it? Thanks for coming over this past week and fixing our DSL. You have no idea how infuriating it was to try to download something at less than dial-up speeds. It was agony, and we’re very happy that we’re back up to a better speed. We were actually thinking of upgrading our package with you so we could a) get faster internet and 2) perhaps pay a little less on our long distance plan. Because we? Are so stuck in the 20th century. No, we don’t depend on our cell phones and for that you should be thrilled!

However.

However, when your tech left, he apparently left us with a phone problem. Whenever anyone tries to call, they’ll hear the phone ring once or twice, and then will hear a rapid, intermittent tone that sounds like a busy signal. No voicemail. On our end, the phone will ring once, caller ID won’t pop up, and then the phone goes silent. Huh. Not good. Coincidence that it happened after the DSL fix? I think not! And neither did the Verizon dude I talked to on the phone yesterday after I called to report the problem.

So, pray tell: why do you keep on calling me today to ask if I still need the phone tech guy to come out to our place this coming week? And why do I have to tell multiple tech operators that a) you, Verizon, set up a call forwarding deal to my cell so we can speak to people and 2) why do they all keep on cautioning me that we might have to pay for the repair since, on your end, the line is working correctly and the problem is most likely inside? The problem did not appear until the DSL service with tinkered with and fixed. Sure, it’s great to have our series of tubes returned, but really: I’m not going to rate Verizon at 100% when fixing one service means the other is knocked out for the weekend.

So just fix the damn thing overall and we can forget this incident. Hey, we still might even upgrade our package if this is taken care of promptly and no additional charges show up on our bill for mistakes that were made by you, Verizon dear. Don’t make me investigate whether we can get Comcast digital phone and internet without having to pay for a digital TV service we wouldn’t use.

Love,

WordNerd

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

• (Special Repeat Mention) Lost: No, seriously—I tried to watch the first season and was bored senseless. Yet there was a 2.5-hour season finale on Sunday. And the idea that people were up in arms over the fact that the State of the Union address might be aired on the same day as the season premiere? OMG! Yeah, didn’t get the outrage. I care more about the state of the country than some stupid show. Many didn’t and that nearly made me weep for this country.

• Arizona’s New Immigration Law: Yeah, a lot of people don’t get this one, but here’s what I don’t get—why should I, as a brown person here legally, be more than happy to show proof of my credentials, as it were, to some AZ cop on a power trip? If you’re white and you’re telling me that I should be proud to do this, you are speaking from a position of privilege. You’ve never been followed in a department store by a sales associate because they think you might steal something, have you? Your social studies teacher has never asked you if you’re “legal,” has he? And no one’s ever shouted to you in Spanish at DFW airport to inspect your luggage instead of politely asking you step to the side in English, right? Do you have any idea the level of humiliation, intimidation and fear that accompanies these interactions? No? Then shut the fuck up about what I should be “proud” to do to prove I belong in this country. You’ll always suspect me, legal or not, so I’ll be damned if I kowtow to you to make you feel a little bit better about my browness.

Sorry. That one really gets to me.

• Sex and the City: For some reason, this show strikes me as horribly anti-feminist because it seems that end narratives (before the movies) preached stability in romantic relationships as the epitome of happiness that any woman could (and should) experience. So forgive me if I call horseshit. Yes, women talking frankly about sex is great, but when I think of SATC, I think of outrageous outfits, uncomfortable shoes, subpar columns, and chasing the guy. It reeks of a rabid consumerism that probably most of the show’s audience can’t hope to achieve without finding themselves in serious debt. When I saw snippets, it all seemed to lack depth. Snooze. And Gordon Biersch, doing a SATC night on my birthday? For shame!

• Lady Gaga: I don’t have any strong objection to Lady Gaga, I just don’t get her. Is it the music? The funky style? Is she doing things her own way? If she’s doing it her own way, why is there so much marketing and consumerism in her videos? Is she just another pop sell by record companies who have duped the public into thinking they’re tapping into an original, or does she have staying power? Please elucidate me (and I’m not being snarky, I want to know!).

To be continued . . .

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

Until Stroller Lady came along.

IP and I tend to encounter Stroller Lady frequently. And we don’t run into her on Metro. She walks down East-West Highway on her way to Summit Hills, pushing a stroller that’s of average size. At the end of the day, she walks back up East-Way Highway, maybe heading to the Metro. She is absolutely tiny, has long hair, and an impassive face which my mom would probably label as a sangrona face—just like I apparently have. I have no urge, however, to tell this woman to smile—we all know how I feel about that. What I do want to say to her is this:

“Could you please move the stroller to the side? The sidewalk is built for two-way traffic.”

Because this woman? Likes to push the stroller containing her kid right down the middle of the sidewalk, allowing very little room for anyone passing her to actually stay on the sidewalk.

I call it the “Watch out, people, I have a BABY!” syndrome—the idea that your little one is so precious that the rest of humanity has to defer solely to you and your baby’s comfort level. Your beh-beh is the best and most special and loveliest in the world—of course you’re going to push his or her stroller down the middle of the sidewalk! Junior or Angel (I would say Princess, but I cannot bring myself to do so for various reasons) has to have the maximum amount of space allocated to him or her—people having to get their shoes wet thanks to dewy grass be damned. The BABY! So special!

I hate that attitude. Because it’s not the kid who’s the problem at first—he or she can’t control how much of a space hog his or her mom is—but that attitude is inevitably transferred to the kid at some point, meaning that at another point in time, people are going to have to deal with an obnoxious person who thinks they’re entitled to everything thanks to their parents’ attitudes; they’ll pass it on to their kids, and so forth, and the insufferable attitude continues unabated. Oy.

Parents of the world: your kids are pretty cute. But not so cute that you get to be a rude asshole. You still have to be conscious of social norms and be alert to your surroundings. You don’t get a pass because you procreated. If we decide to have kids and we’re lucky enough to not have trouble conceiving, will I insist that society around me shift to accommodate me? Nah. I’ll work within society, thanks.

What makes it even worse is that the sidewalk isn’t terribly narrow, but Stroller Lady positions the stroller right in the middle so that very little room is left on each side of her. I snagged this picture from Google Maps; the angle at which the Google Van took the picture makes the sidewalk look super narrow, so I don’t want to give you the wrong impression—it’s a decent-sized sidewalk. But not so wide you can drive the Bugaboo down the middle and think people have enough room to walk by you. And given how people dodge the stroller, this lady knows, but doesn’t give a shit. No need to move over and allow space for traffic. Why? Because. She has a BABY!

Guh.

Should IP and I become parents, I’m going to force myself to reread these types of blog entries so that I don’t become as self-centered as Stroller Lady. Because in the end, no one will care about our kids as much as IP and I do (kind of like our wedding), so I hope to impose a minimal amount of stress on people around us. And that includes moving my stroller to the side to allow people to walk comfortably down East-West Highway.

And with that, I leave you with Jonathan Coulton’s Stroller Town.

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.