Stuff Michelle Hates

Everyone has a hate list; mine is on the internet.
Cell Phones In The Supermarket I understand, that sometimes people need to call their loved ones to make sure they get the right brand of toothpaste or wtv. I also know that people have no manners and call you whenever they feel like (i.e. 11:17 in the morning, Bastards!), so it’s tooootally plausible that someone might call you at the grocery store and you need/should pick. Also, wtv. HOWEVER, there seems to be a special breed of person who has to immediately make a phone call as soon as the set foot in TJs (or wherever). And when I say “special breed of person” I mean half the people in the damn store. Personally, supermarkets make me supremely uncomfortable. There are too many options! So my strategy is always to go in with a plan, get my free sample and get the hell out of there AFAP (as fast as possible). This is extremely hard to accomplish when Mrs. Soandso is having the world longest (and most boring) conversation while blocking the tortillas. She’s not even trying to decide which of the 15 brands of flour tortillas she is going to buy! GTFOOMW (Get The Fuck Out Of My Way). Additionally, as soon as people have the cellphone in hand they start to act like wandering idiots; walking slowly, meandering across the entire aisle and being completely oblivious to anyone or anything around them. Let’s think about that in the context of driving, shall we? Lastly, my biggest issue with this is: it is an prime example of a double standard concerning agism. I say this BECAUSE exactly 97% of cell phone-grocery store offenders are old people (i.e. over 40). The exact same people who seem to think it is rude to answer a text while in conversation with someone else. Yet, SOMEHOW, it is completely acceptable to block everyone’s way as they run around trying to do errands, so that they can yuck it up with their sister or some bullshit. I’m sorry, but momentarily slightly diverting your attention from your friend is NOT 1000x worse than inconveniencing every single person in the store. Hang up the phone and stare blankly at the dairy fridge like the rest of us!

Cell Phones In The Supermarket I understand, that sometimes people need to call their loved ones to make sure they get the right brand of toothpaste or wtv. I also know that people have no manners and call you whenever they feel like (i.e. 11:17 in the morning, Bastards!), so it’s tooootally plausible that someone might call you at the grocery store and you need/should pick. Also, wtv. HOWEVER, there seems to be a special breed of person who has to immediately make a phone call as soon as the set foot in TJs (or wherever). And when I say “special breed of person” I mean half the people in the damn store. Personally, supermarkets make me supremely uncomfortable. There are too many options! So my strategy is always to go in with a plan, get my free sample and get the hell out of there AFAP (as fast as possible). This is extremely hard to accomplish when Mrs. Soandso is having the world longest (and most boring) conversation while blocking the tortillas. She’s not even trying to decide which of the 15 brands of flour tortillas she is going to buy! GTFOOMW (Get The Fuck Out Of My Way). Additionally, as soon as people have the cellphone in hand they start to act like wandering idiots; walking slowly, meandering across the entire aisle and being completely oblivious to anyone or anything around them. Let’s think about that in the context of driving, shall we? Lastly, my biggest issue with this is: it is an prime example of a double standard concerning agism. I say this BECAUSE exactly 97% of cell phone-grocery store offenders are old people (i.e. over 40). The exact same people who seem to think it is rude to answer a text while in conversation with someone else. Yet, SOMEHOW, it is completely acceptable to block everyone’s way as they run around trying to do errands, so that they can yuck it up with their sister or some bullshit. I’m sorry, but momentarily slightly diverting your attention from your friend is NOT 1000x worse than inconveniencing every single person in the store. Hang up the phone and stare blankly at the dairy fridge like the rest of us!

CALM DOWN
As a person prone to the extremes of life, I am often very animated. I emote, ‘cause that’s what humans do. I am not a robot; I have feelings and they come out. You should try it sometime, it’s loads of fun (except when it’s not). I am also a fan of politeness (in person only, see previous post), and not controlling other people (supa-rude). 
Generally, this is not a problem. People seem to appreciate me as a person, my politeness, my emotions and my desire to be freeeee (and let others be free, as well). HOWEVER, every once in a while, I meet someone who cannot JUST HANDLE IT, or rather, can’t handle me; and, subsequently, feels the need to tell me to regulate my emotions. 
This is a social phenom that is not isolated to the beautiful US of A. I have been told to “Calm DOWN” is several languages: CALMA, CALMA-TE, etc. Why does anyone feel the need to tell somebody that their emotional reaction to a situations is  not valid? It is fucking rude to undermine the feelings and experiences of others. I have been told to “calm down” by a complete stranger when I was in the middle of 1 million people packed into a tiny square, having a claustrophobic, panic attack triggered by dehydration. CALM DOWN was not the answer to that issue; water, space to breathe and a reprieve from all the groping hands around me was. In fact, freaking out was the only appropriate reaction to that situation as far as I am concerned.
What I find even more insulting that being told to “calm down” in a stressful situation, is when somebody decides that I am simply tooooo excited and need to “chill out”. Another anecdote (‘cause I know you loooove hearing the boring stories of my life): I was waiting on a friend to get a ride back to my house after a show some mutual friends had played down at a local hot spot. We (there were several of us) had been waiting for quite some time as she proceeded to get distracted by this and that (as is her nature). At last, when it seemed we were finally heading away (myself and our party was half way down the block), I turn around to see that she is still being distracted about 100 ft away. I sing out to her “Lovelyyyy, hurrrrrrry up”; and when I say sing, I mean sing (I was little drunk). No anger was involved, just a simple reminder that she had people waiting for her. A mutual acquaintance, not involved in out little party in the slightest, then decided to sing back “calmthefuckdown.” Seriously? SERIOUSLY? My desire to get all my friends in one place and go to our next location is grounds to be calmed? Was my song sooo energetic and offensive that an unaffiliated party needed to comment (the guy who sang back is a total dick btw, so I guess I shouldn’t be all that surprised)? 
I find this “calm down” phenomena to be akin to the “Why aren’t you smiling?” creep on* that “gentleman” (cough, cough) sometimes use when pretty, young ladies (*shudder*, the words “young lady” make me want to puke, but that’s another post) are having a bad day. No stranger, or acquaintance, or really, even friend or family member has the right to tell you that your emotional response to a situation is invalid. Just like they should not tell you that your thoughts and opinions are invalid. In fact, NO ONE should tell you that anything about your person is invalid, unless specifically asked. It’s fucking rude. I don’t comment on your issues, don’t fucking comment on my mood; let alone, provide a directive for how I should change it. We don’t live in Puritan England anymore. I need to neither damper my feelings on a subject nor conform them to the “norm”. Self expression is in; emotional censorship is out. 
For more anger on this topic, I recommend reading: http://www.xojane.com/relationships/i-will-not-calm-down. I am not alone!!!!!!!!
Post-thought: Does this happen to guys? Or is this a gas-lighting, anti-woman thing, trying to make us feel more emotional and crazy than we actually are? I would love to hear some dood feedback on this, since the majority of people who tell me to “calm down” are males. 
*Totes copyrighting this frase

CALM DOWN

As a person prone to the extremes of life, I am often very animated. I emote, ‘cause that’s what humans do. I am not a robot; I have feelings and they come out. You should try it sometime, it’s loads of fun (except when it’s not). I am also a fan of politeness (in person only, see previous post), and not controlling other people (supa-rude). 

Generally, this is not a problem. People seem to appreciate me as a person, my politeness, my emotions and my desire to be freeeee (and let others be free, as well). HOWEVER, every once in a while, I meet someone who cannot JUST HANDLE IT, or rather, can’t handle me; and, subsequently, feels the need to tell me to regulate my emotions. 

This is a social phenom that is not isolated to the beautiful US of A. I have been told to “Calm DOWN” is several languages: CALMA, CALMA-TE, etc. Why does anyone feel the need to tell somebody that their emotional reaction to a situations is  not valid? It is fucking rude to undermine the feelings and experiences of others. I have been told to “calm down” by a complete stranger when I was in the middle of 1 million people packed into a tiny square, having a claustrophobic, panic attack triggered by dehydration. CALM DOWN was not the answer to that issue; water, space to breathe and a reprieve from all the groping hands around me was. In fact, freaking out was the only appropriate reaction to that situation as far as I am concerned.

What I find even more insulting that being told to “calm down” in a stressful situation, is when somebody decides that I am simply tooooo excited and need to “chill out”. Another anecdote (‘cause I know you loooove hearing the boring stories of my life): I was waiting on a friend to get a ride back to my house after a show some mutual friends had played down at a local hot spot. We (there were several of us) had been waiting for quite some time as she proceeded to get distracted by this and that (as is her nature). At last, when it seemed we were finally heading away (myself and our party was half way down the block), I turn around to see that she is still being distracted about 100 ft away. I sing out to her “Lovelyyyy, hurrrrrrry up”; and when I say sing, I mean sing (I was little drunk). No anger was involved, just a simple reminder that she had people waiting for her. A mutual acquaintance, not involved in out little party in the slightest, then decided to sing back “calmthefuckdown.” Seriously? SERIOUSLY? My desire to get all my friends in one place and go to our next location is grounds to be calmed? Was my song sooo energetic and offensive that an unaffiliated party needed to comment (the guy who sang back is a total dick btw, so I guess I shouldn’t be all that surprised)? 

I find this “calm down” phenomena to be akin to the “Why aren’t you smiling?” creep on* that “gentleman” (cough, cough) sometimes use when pretty, young ladies (*shudder*, the words “young lady” make me want to puke, but that’s another post) are having a bad day. No stranger, or acquaintance, or really, even friend or family member has the right to tell you that your emotional response to a situation is invalid. Just like they should not tell you that your thoughts and opinions are invalid. In fact, NO ONE should tell you that anything about your person is invalid, unless specifically asked. It’s fucking rude. I don’t comment on your issues, don’t fucking comment on my mood; let alone, provide a directive for how I should change it. We don’t live in Puritan England anymore. I need to neither damper my feelings on a subject nor conform them to the “norm”. Self expression is in; emotional censorship is out. 

For more anger on this topic, I recommend reading: http://www.xojane.com/relationships/i-will-not-calm-down. I am not alone!!!!!!!!

Post-thought: Does this happen to guys? Or is this a gas-lighting, anti-woman thing, trying to make us feel more emotional and crazy than we actually are? I would love to hear some dood feedback on this, since the majority of people who tell me to “calm down” are males. 

*Totes copyrighting this frase

Polo Shirts
Can someone please explain to me exactly when polo shirts became the go-to look for all corporations everywhere?!?! When did this weird, preppy, Ralph Lauren creation become the icon of business casual? Is it because no sane person would wear one unless forced to by work place decorum thereby distinguishing employees from customer? Or something more devious… an insider plot by the capitalist, polo shirt powers-that-be, implementing US-wide dress codes in all corporate stores in order to boost sales and create a dependency on the polo shirt that would have otherwise withered away with the 80s if left untampered with!?!?!?!?!??!?! It’s definitely the last one, probably. 
Whatever the reason, the polo shirt now has a seemingly permanent place in the closets of all low-level, corporate employees… and gym teachers (for some inexplicable reason). I have a lot of problems with the polo shirt, but let’s start at the top (literally). A COLLAR; a collar on a short sleeve shirt. Not even a button-up, short sleeve shirt (ala hick in church), but a regular short sleeve shirt. Does the collar say “professional” but the stretch cotton blend says “I just want you to have fun.”? What kind of message are we really trying to send with a polo shirt, besides: “I like to play golf.”? Then there are the two useless button at the top. What are their purpose? Buttoning up the two buttons does not keep me warmer when I am cold, and unbuttoning them does not cool me down when I am hot. They do not allow me to open my shirt entirely, giving me alternative outfit options; no, in fact, they don’t even open far enough to show off my tits. They are useless. Another way of saying to the mindless customer: “I may be wearing a uniform, but I am just as fun-loving as you. SEE?? I have TWO buttons unbuttoned.”, but not more, ohno, that would be unprofessional. PUKE.
Truly, honestly, my biggest complaint with the polo shirt, is that no one looks good in one. You have never seen somebody walk by and were all like: “DAYUMMMMM, they look gooooood in that polo.” I’m sorry, you just haven’t. No one has in the history of the polo shirt. Don’t believe the cute preppy picture above, polo shirts do not fit that snuggly, and after each wash they become baggier and baggier until it looks like you are wearing a bag…with a collar…and two buttons (unbuttoned). To add insult to ugliness, most places that require one to wear a polo shirt, also require them to be tucked in (professionalism first!, fun second…or never). There is no way, I repeat NO WAY, to make this look cute. Add mandatory slacks and a belt, and you have bought yourself a one way ticket to fashion Hell. Have fun hanging out with people who wear crocs and that one guy that still tries to rock a faux hawk. 
I was excited to work at a restaurant. I assumed it meant dressing up like a penguin in my oh-so chic white button down. Alas, no. I am no doomed to a life of an unflattering red (yes, this actually does exist) polo, Dickies and non-slip shoes. Kill me now. 

Polo Shirts

Can someone please explain to me exactly when polo shirts became the go-to look for all corporations everywhere?!?! When did this weird, preppy, Ralph Lauren creation become the icon of business casual? Is it because no sane person would wear one unless forced to by work place decorum thereby distinguishing employees from customer? Or something more devious… an insider plot by the capitalist, polo shirt powers-that-be, implementing US-wide dress codes in all corporate stores in order to boost sales and create a dependency on the polo shirt that would have otherwise withered away with the 80s if left untampered with!?!?!?!?!??!?! It’s definitely the last one, probably. 

Whatever the reason, the polo shirt now has a seemingly permanent place in the closets of all low-level, corporate employees… and gym teachers (for some inexplicable reason). I have a lot of problems with the polo shirt, but let’s start at the top (literally). A COLLAR; a collar on a short sleeve shirt. Not even a button-up, short sleeve shirt (ala hick in church), but a regular short sleeve shirt. Does the collar say “professional” but the stretch cotton blend says “I just want you to have fun.”? What kind of message are we really trying to send with a polo shirt, besides: “I like to play golf.”? Then there are the two useless button at the top. What are their purpose? Buttoning up the two buttons does not keep me warmer when I am cold, and unbuttoning them does not cool me down when I am hot. They do not allow me to open my shirt entirely, giving me alternative outfit options; no, in fact, they don’t even open far enough to show off my tits. They are useless. Another way of saying to the mindless customer: “I may be wearing a uniform, but I am just as fun-loving as you. SEE?? I have TWO buttons unbuttoned.”, but not more, ohno, that would be unprofessional. PUKE.

Truly, honestly, my biggest complaint with the polo shirt, is that no one looks good in one. You have never seen somebody walk by and were all like: “DAYUMMMMM, they look gooooood in that polo.” I’m sorry, you just haven’t. No one has in the history of the polo shirt. Don’t believe the cute preppy picture above, polo shirts do not fit that snuggly, and after each wash they become baggier and baggier until it looks like you are wearing a bag…with a collar…and two buttons (unbuttoned). To add insult to ugliness, most places that require one to wear a polo shirt, also require them to be tucked in (professionalism first!, fun second…or never). There is no way, I repeat NO WAY, to make this look cute. Add mandatory slacks and a belt, and you have bought yourself a one way ticket to fashion Hell. Have fun hanging out with people who wear crocs and that one guy that still tries to rock a faux hawk. 

I was excited to work at a restaurant. I assumed it meant dressing up like a penguin in my oh-so chic white button down. Alas, no. I am no doomed to a life of an unflattering red (yes, this actually does exist) polo, Dickies and non-slip shoes. Kill me now. 

Too Polite Driving
Alright, so I just moved back to LA, and when I get together with other Angelenos, we spend about 50% of conversation time on the topic of driving. SO, forgive me: here is yet another post on driving habits that make me contemplate rear-ending someone realllllly hard just for the hell of it. 
As a cyclist, pedestrian and a motorist, one of the most annoying things a driver can do is be too polite. I know, you’re all like: “But Michelllllle, politeness is a dying art. How can anyone be too polite?”. Well, they can be.
The 4-way stop is an easy example. Two cars arriving at the stop at the same time. For clarity, let’s say that they are facing the each other (to negate the person-on-the-right rule). Let’s say one car is turning left. There is no clear cut rule about who should go first, so instead, when two overly polite drivers face each other it becomes the polite-off of the century, and me (the person behind one of those cars) gets to wait FOREVER while the other cars proceed to invent a new dance called the No-you-go-first Wave. I HAVE PLACES TO BE, PEOPLE!!!!
True, this is only a minor inconvenience, and will really only negatively affect my boss with my lateness. However, a more grievous injustice occurs when a bicycle is involved. Let’s take this same situation, but substitute one of the cars for a bike, namely me on a bike. As a biker (not the leather-covered kind), my speed relies on my muscles and my motion on the momentum I create. So, when I am faced with a stop sign (or other traffic hazards i.e. cars in general), I have two choices: slow to make sure it is safe, yet continue on in hopes of preserving my momentum, OR stop entirely, put my foot down and take a 4 second breather. Here in lies the problem. Should I decide to stop (or, as is more often the case, law requires me to), and this “polite” driver decides to forgo their turn and let me, the lowly cyclist, bike through, they are doing me exactly zero favors. Instead of taking my mini-break, I am then required to immediately jump back on my bike and use a huge amount of force to move my approx 200 lbs person+bike forward. NOT COOL. 
This form of “nice” driving interferes in all sort of daily transportation activities. Examples include; being unsure when to cross the street because the motorists is inexplicably slowing down, having to come to a complete stop on a bike because the car has decided to halt and give no indication of what it is going to do next, etc. At least when someone is being an aggressive asshole driver you can guess their next move. When you are dealing with someone who has decided to be “polite”, you are never sure what they are thinking. You get annoyed trying to divine just how long they are going to ignore common traffic laws for the sake of “niceness” and are eventually met with the “wave” which is really just a far away slap in the face. 
There is a time and a place for being polite: dinner parties, work, the interwebs. On the road is not one of those places. We created rules of the asphalt so that we would NOT have to rely on the kindness of humans to decide who should go first at a stop sign. I am not saying that all of humanity’s rules and regulations are good or should be followed, but for the love of the driving gods, don’t do anyone any “favors” while powering a vehicle unless mandated (or suggested) by law. Save the politeness for you grandmother, be assertive (and safe!) while driving your gas guzzler. 

Too Polite Driving

Alright, so I just moved back to LA, and when I get together with other Angelenos, we spend about 50% of conversation time on the topic of driving. SO, forgive me: here is yet another post on driving habits that make me contemplate rear-ending someone realllllly hard just for the hell of it. 

As a cyclist, pedestrian and a motorist, one of the most annoying things a driver can do is be too polite. I know, you’re all like: “But Michelllllle, politeness is a dying art. How can anyone be too polite?”. Well, they can be.

The 4-way stop is an easy example. Two cars arriving at the stop at the same time. For clarity, let’s say that they are facing the each other (to negate the person-on-the-right rule). Let’s say one car is turning left. There is no clear cut rule about who should go first, so instead, when two overly polite drivers face each other it becomes the polite-off of the century, and me (the person behind one of those cars) gets to wait FOREVER while the other cars proceed to invent a new dance called the No-you-go-first Wave. I HAVE PLACES TO BE, PEOPLE!!!!

True, this is only a minor inconvenience, and will really only negatively affect my boss with my lateness. However, a more grievous injustice occurs when a bicycle is involved. Let’s take this same situation, but substitute one of the cars for a bike, namely me on a bike. As a biker (not the leather-covered kind), my speed relies on my muscles and my motion on the momentum I create. So, when I am faced with a stop sign (or other traffic hazards i.e. cars in general), I have two choices: slow to make sure it is safe, yet continue on in hopes of preserving my momentum, OR stop entirely, put my foot down and take a 4 second breather. Here in lies the problem. Should I decide to stop (or, as is more often the case, law requires me to), and this “polite” driver decides to forgo their turn and let me, the lowly cyclist, bike through, they are doing me exactly zero favors. Instead of taking my mini-break, I am then required to immediately jump back on my bike and use a huge amount of force to move my approx 200 lbs person+bike forward. NOT COOL. 

This form of “nice” driving interferes in all sort of daily transportation activities. Examples include; being unsure when to cross the street because the motorists is inexplicably slowing down, having to come to a complete stop on a bike because the car has decided to halt and give no indication of what it is going to do next, etc. At least when someone is being an aggressive asshole driver you can guess their next move. When you are dealing with someone who has decided to be “polite”, you are never sure what they are thinking. You get annoyed trying to divine just how long they are going to ignore common traffic laws for the sake of “niceness” and are eventually met with the “wave” which is really just a far away slap in the face. 

There is a time and a place for being polite: dinner parties, work, the interwebs. On the road is not one of those places. We created rules of the asphalt so that we would NOT have to rely on the kindness of humans to decide who should go first at a stop sign. I am not saying that all of humanity’s rules and regulations are good or should be followed, but for the love of the driving gods, don’t do anyone any “favors” while powering a vehicle unless mandated (or suggested) by law. Save the politeness for you grandmother, be assertive (and safe!) while driving your gas guzzler. 

Neck Beards
Is your neck cold? Are scarves suddenly uncool? What about your chin? Isn’t your chin cold? Do you think this look is cool? Oh, you do. That explains a lot. 

Neck Beards

Is your neck cold? Are scarves suddenly uncool? What about your chin? Isn’t your chin cold? Do you think this look is cool? Oh, you do. That explains a lot. 

"The Boyfriend" at Concerts
Ok, take a journey with me…you are at concert, a really good concert, one of your favorite bands (I, personally, am picturing Ratatat ‘cause they have been my workout music lately). You’ve made your way to the perfect spot in the crowd, front and center; it’s so packed that there is no mosh pit just a mass of people flowing back and forth. You are kinda high or maybe a little tipsy, tripping over feet and feeling the sweaty body of the person next to you. Ahhh perfect, true bliss; you close your eyes to fully engross yourself in the music and the sensation, when WHAM! You run into a brick wall. Who the fuck put a brick wall in the middle of the floor? You open your eyes, Oh it’s not a brick wall, just “THE BOYFRIEND”.
We’ve all ran into this guy (literally), and he is always over 6 feet and over 250 pounds. He manages to find the exact center of the dance floor and stand as the ultimate protector over “THE GIRLFRIEND”. She really wanted to go to the show, she loves this band and wants to dance, and god be damned if he is going to let one drop of a strangers sweat or spilled drink touch his tiny princess. Now, I am a tall lady, but when I go to concerts I slouch so the people behind me can see at least a little bit. NOT this guy. He stands tall and proud and surprisingly immovable considering the mass of people in flux around him.   He creates a barrier around his girlfriend so that she can dance unmolested, and in the process messes up the flow of the dance pit. There is no logical reason why he needs to be there. It is possible to be separated from your significant other for longer than the two minutes it take to go to the bathroom. The only real reason he is there is so that he can be possessive and she can turn around, and in-between songs, kiss him to show off to all the girls that she has a personal bodyguard she also fucks. Congratulations lady, he is also a douche.

"The Boyfriend" at Concerts

Ok, take a journey with me…you are at concert, a really good concert, one of your favorite bands (I, personally, am picturing Ratatat ‘cause they have been my workout music lately). You’ve made your way to the perfect spot in the crowd, front and center; it’s so packed that there is no mosh pit just a mass of people flowing back and forth. You are kinda high or maybe a little tipsy, tripping over feet and feeling the sweaty body of the person next to you. Ahhh perfect, true bliss; you close your eyes to fully engross yourself in the music and the sensation, when WHAM! You run into a brick wall. Who the fuck put a brick wall in the middle of the floor? You open your eyes, Oh it’s not a brick wall, just “THE BOYFRIEND”.

We’ve all ran into this guy (literally), and he is always over 6 feet and over 250 pounds. He manages to find the exact center of the dance floor and stand as the ultimate protector over “THE GIRLFRIEND”. She really wanted to go to the show, she loves this band and wants to dance, and god be damned if he is going to let one drop of a strangers sweat or spilled drink touch his tiny princess. Now, I am a tall lady, but when I go to concerts I slouch so the people behind me can see at least a little bit. NOT this guy. He stands tall and proud and surprisingly immovable considering the mass of people in flux around him.   He creates a barrier around his girlfriend so that she can dance unmolested, and in the process messes up the flow of the dance pit. There is no logical reason why he needs to be there. It is possible to be separated from your significant other for longer than the two minutes it take to go to the bathroom. The only real reason he is there is so that he can be possessive and she can turn around, and in-between songs, kiss him to show off to all the girls that she has a personal bodyguard she also fucks. Congratulations lady, he is also a douche.

Shitty Movies With Good Trailers

There use to be a time when you could judge a movie by its trailer; much like judging a book by it jacket. That time has passed my friends. The industry has caught on to us. They now make really awesome fucking trailers for really awful fucking movies. They even change the tone of the movie, making not funny movies appear like laugh riots. Well I am going to riot! What ever happened to truth in advertising? Oh, yeah, capitalism. 

Bus Etiquette (Violators of) For Noor
Etiquette is important. No, I am not talking about the “don’t-put-your-elbows-on-the-table” type of etiquette, I mean the etiquette that is in place because disregarding it actively hurts everybody else; like the puff puff pass rule. 
Now, if you have ever lived somewhere where lots of people rely on public transportation, especially buses, to get around and commute (yes, the post is directed mainly at you Santa Cruzians), then you understand the necessity of bus etiquette and the deep pit of fiery rage that violators spawn inside us all. So, for the benefit of the world I will outline the PROPER way to conduct oneself on a bus, and save us all from the next mass-murdering, third trimester senior trying to get to their 8 o’clock class on Science Hill (what up inside jokes?). 
Let’s start with the very basics: boarding the bus. Before you get on the bus, as you are standing in line waiting for the magic doors to let you on, have your ID ready, or you 2$ or whatever. Do NOT make everyone behind you angrily tap their feet while waiting for you to search through you three ton backpack. If you are having trouble finding your bus pass (we all do every now and then), kindly take a side step and let all the other people on before you. By holding everyone hostage while you sift through gum wrappers you are make everyone late and cranky. 
Let’s say that you are trying to get your bike on the bus. This is a bit trickier because there are only 2-3 spots on the bus for a bike. The only logical way to decide who gets on when is a first come first serve system. Therefore, to avoid being the biggest douche on the planet, when you roll up on your bike, look around and take in account how many other bikes are already there. This generally goes smoothly, but don’t be afraid to be assertive, sometimes people are still not awake in the morning. This biggest violation of bike/bus etiquette occurs when actually putting the bike on the bus. Do NOT be that asswipe that takes the front spot, and forces everyone else to awkwardly jam their bikes behind yours. The worst is when both the back and front spots are taken and you have to spend 8 mins trying to squeeze your giant ass bike in-between the other two giant ass bikes. NOT COOL. If you are getting off before the other bikers, kindly offer them the opportunity to put their bikes on the bus ahead of yours. Actually, always ask other bikers when they are getting off to minimize the hassle that everyone has to go through trying to wrestle their bikes on and off the bus; it’s just common decency. 
So, now you are on the bus and you see your friend sitting down on an aisle seat, but there are not other seats near her. You go up to her, say hi and start taking about the weekend; the bus isn’t very crowd, so wtvs. However, at the next stop the entire Psych 1 class boards. Do NOT be the fucktard that refuses to give up your standing spot near your friend and act as a road block with your person-sized backpack forcing all of the newly-on bus rides to drop 30 pounds just to pass by you and head to the back of the bus. For the love of god, say you’ll talk to your friend later and head to the back of the bus before the hoard. She will understand, I swear. 
Great, you’ve done all those first steps, and you feel like you’ve mastered this bus etiquette thing. Now it’s time for the ultimate test. It’s midterms and it’s raining-hard: GO! This is really the worst case scenario bus riding experience. You’re wet, you’re stressed, you’re late and so is everyone else. This is when you really need to suck it up and channel jello. You will find yourself squeezing into the most impossibly small spaces; three people abreast in the aisle! Yes, someone’s backpack will be hitting you in the face, and yes, you will be accidentally grinding with that sopping wet kid who totally forgot his umbrella. SUCK IT UP. Squish yourself like a sardine, mush yourself into a shape you didn’t even know existed (I have literally had one foot perched on top of the other in order to take up less space) and for christ’s sake put your backpack on your feet like a daddy Empire Penguin. If you refuse to do any of these things, and incur the shouts of your fellow riders (“MOVE BACK!”), then you are the biggest dumbfuck of all times and deserve to be thrown from the moving bus out into the rain. 
Especially in these trying situations it is dire to allow people to get off the bus when the get to their stop. People will be coming from the back of the bus and you will, at some point, be elbowed in the face. It happens. When the bus begins to slow down and the doors make that fart sound and open, it is your cue to suck in that burrito gut and let the poor kid who just spent 40 minutes breathing in everyone’s exhales at the back out of the bus out to his freedom and his stats test. 
Lastly, and most importantly, ALWAYS thank you bus driver, even that means yelling over the din of singing drunk bussers. Don’t be a dick; it won’t hurt you to say thanks. 
Follow these simple guidelines and we can all avoid the type hostility that makes serial killers snap.

Bus Etiquette (Violators of) For Noor

Etiquette is important. No, I am not talking about the “don’t-put-your-elbows-on-the-table” type of etiquette, I mean the etiquette that is in place because disregarding it actively hurts everybody else; like the puff puff pass rule. 

Now, if you have ever lived somewhere where lots of people rely on public transportation, especially buses, to get around and commute (yes, the post is directed mainly at you Santa Cruzians), then you understand the necessity of bus etiquette and the deep pit of fiery rage that violators spawn inside us all. So, for the benefit of the world I will outline the PROPER way to conduct oneself on a bus, and save us all from the next mass-murdering, third trimester senior trying to get to their 8 o’clock class on Science Hill (what up inside jokes?). 

Let’s start with the very basics: boarding the bus. Before you get on the bus, as you are standing in line waiting for the magic doors to let you on, have your ID ready, or you 2$ or whatever. Do NOT make everyone behind you angrily tap their feet while waiting for you to search through you three ton backpack. If you are having trouble finding your bus pass (we all do every now and then), kindly take a side step and let all the other people on before you. By holding everyone hostage while you sift through gum wrappers you are make everyone late and cranky. 

Let’s say that you are trying to get your bike on the bus. This is a bit trickier because there are only 2-3 spots on the bus for a bike. The only logical way to decide who gets on when is a first come first serve system. Therefore, to avoid being the biggest douche on the planet, when you roll up on your bike, look around and take in account how many other bikes are already there. This generally goes smoothly, but don’t be afraid to be assertive, sometimes people are still not awake in the morning. This biggest violation of bike/bus etiquette occurs when actually putting the bike on the bus. Do NOT be that asswipe that takes the front spot, and forces everyone else to awkwardly jam their bikes behind yours. The worst is when both the back and front spots are taken and you have to spend 8 mins trying to squeeze your giant ass bike in-between the other two giant ass bikes. NOT COOL. If you are getting off before the other bikers, kindly offer them the opportunity to put their bikes on the bus ahead of yours. Actually, always ask other bikers when they are getting off to minimize the hassle that everyone has to go through trying to wrestle their bikes on and off the bus; it’s just common decency. 

So, now you are on the bus and you see your friend sitting down on an aisle seat, but there are not other seats near her. You go up to her, say hi and start taking about the weekend; the bus isn’t very crowd, so wtvs. However, at the next stop the entire Psych 1 class boards. Do NOT be the fucktard that refuses to give up your standing spot near your friend and act as a road block with your person-sized backpack forcing all of the newly-on bus rides to drop 30 pounds just to pass by you and head to the back of the bus. For the love of god, say you’ll talk to your friend later and head to the back of the bus before the hoard. She will understand, I swear. 

Great, you’ve done all those first steps, and you feel like you’ve mastered this bus etiquette thing. Now it’s time for the ultimate test. It’s midterms and it’s raining-hard: GO! This is really the worst case scenario bus riding experience. You’re wet, you’re stressed, you’re late and so is everyone else. This is when you really need to suck it up and channel jello. You will find yourself squeezing into the most impossibly small spaces; three people abreast in the aisle! Yes, someone’s backpack will be hitting you in the face, and yes, you will be accidentally grinding with that sopping wet kid who totally forgot his umbrella. SUCK IT UP. Squish yourself like a sardine, mush yourself into a shape you didn’t even know existed (I have literally had one foot perched on top of the other in order to take up less space) and for christ’s sake put your backpack on your feet like a daddy Empire Penguin. If you refuse to do any of these things, and incur the shouts of your fellow riders (“MOVE BACK!”), then you are the biggest dumbfuck of all times and deserve to be thrown from the moving bus out into the rain. 

Especially in these trying situations it is dire to allow people to get off the bus when the get to their stop. People will be coming from the back of the bus and you will, at some point, be elbowed in the face. It happens. When the bus begins to slow down and the doors make that fart sound and open, it is your cue to suck in that burrito gut and let the poor kid who just spent 40 minutes breathing in everyone’s exhales at the back out of the bus out to his freedom and his stats test. 

Lastly, and most importantly, ALWAYS thank you bus driver, even that means yelling over the din of singing drunk bussers. Don’t be a dick; it won’t hurt you to say thanks. 

Follow these simple guidelines and we can all avoid the type hostility that makes serial killers snap.

Bras Pt. 2
6) Did you know there is no medical reason to wear a bra? None. Look it up.
7) Also, do you know how sexy it is to your boom boom parter, when you are getting down to business and you whip off your shirt/dress/wtv and there are the girls, running wild and free and ready for action? Ohhh, yeahhhhh. It’s like the easiest magic trick in the world. “Oh, you thought I had on another layer…WHOOOSH!… disappeared.”

Bras Pt. 2

6) Did you know there is no medical reason to wear a bra? None. Look it up.

7) Also, do you know how sexy it is to your boom boom parter, when you are getting down to business and you whip off your shirt/dress/wtv and there are the girls, running wild and free and ready for action? Ohhh, yeahhhhh. It’s like the easiest magic trick in the world. “Oh, you thought I had on another layer…WHOOOSH!… disappeared.”

Ginger Beard
No one likes a ginger (exception: Kathy Griffin). There is no reason to make yourself a ginger, if you aren’t one naturally. Beards aren’t so damn cool that it warrants catching Gingervitis. If you are already a ginger… go ahead and grow that beard out, you might as well rock it out, there is nothing you can do about it now.

Ginger Beard

No one likes a ginger (exception: Kathy Griffin). There is no reason to make yourself a ginger, if you aren’t one naturally. Beards aren’t so damn cool that it warrants catching Gingervitis. If you are already a ginger… go ahead and grow that beard out, you might as well rock it out, there is nothing you can do about it now.