RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING

1) For a while I was buying the reusable bags almost every time I'd go to the grocery store with the intention of being ecologically conscious and actually reusing them, but I'd bring them inside and forget where they were.  At some point, though, I located all of the bags and stuffed them into the back seat of my car.  I figured that the sheer number of them would outlast many shopping trips, and if I could just remember where I put them once inside the house, I could eventually carry them back out and start all over.

BTW, If you assume I neatly fold them and put them in some kind of container, bless your heart for thinking I'm that organized.  No, I have a tiny backseat just crammed with reusable shopping bags of all sizes, shapes, and affiliations. 

So Wednesday, when I had to go to Target after church, I reached back to find a bag of appropriate size (because ecology and stuff) and my arm got tangled in a strap.  I only had one hand free, so I started shaking the trapped arm to get rid of the bag.  It wouldn't let go!  I went from shaking that arm to waving it, to frantically whipping around because I couldn't get the darned thing off!  I even started going "EH! EH! EH!" because we all know making sounds helps us do stuff, right?  Honestly, it looked like I was having a fight with the bag inside the car.  When I finally managed to untangle myself, I looked up, and two people were watching me have a wrestling match with a reusable shopping bag.  I'm hoping I am wrong, and they didn't know what I was doing, but I'm pretty sure they saw everything.  I just gathered the tattered remains of my dignity around me and walked into Target without looking back.

Not my finest hour.

2) I am frustrated!  I think most of you know that I have an affinity for B.A.W. (Big Ass Watches) and I've worn a huge men's watch for a couple of years.  I really liked it because it had a wide band that was more like a cuff than a watch band, and the watch was attached to it by riveted straps.  It was just a cool watch, OK. Geez.

A few weeks ago the band came apart underneath the buckle.  No big deal, I figure, so I use some E6000 to glue it back together.  E6000 is what I use when I make jewelry, and it's supposed to permanently bond everything you put it on. It worked, for a couple of weeks at least, and then the band came apart again.  So I put the E6000 on it again, left it for two days, and then made a special trip to Michael's to buy implements.

You heard me.  Implements.  Hole. Poking. Implements.

I also got some heavy duty thread and some epoxy that cures with UV light. I was going to make that watch band WORK for me, goshdarnit!  Because of the way the watch is made, you can't just buy a new band, so I had to go to desperate measures! I poked holes, I sewed, I epoxyed (?) and I did it all over again!  I fixed that watch band and it is probably stronger now than it was before!  SUCCESS!

Then I went to triumphantly put on my watch so that I didn't have to use my phone as a clock anymore (I hated that so much) only to find that the damned watch had stopped, and because I'd so thoroughly "fixed" the band, I don't know how to get the back off of it to put a new battery in it.

So I had to buy a new watch.

Silver lining?  If you need hole poking implements, I've got you covered!

3)  Oh, my goodness, I almost had a rage stroke.

I happened upon an online article about a celebrity that said in an interview that chivalry was dead and that women killed it.  Granted, that sounds incredibly inflammatory (gotta get them clicks, yo) but when you read the article, it actually made sense in context.

Like an idiot, I went to the comment section.  I've been to that particular website before and I know that the frequent commenters there are liberal thinking and consider themselves feminists and stuff like that. Great! Awesome!  Feminists are a good thing.  I even consider myself one.  But...there were hundreds of comments, mostly by women, who basically tore the man apart and went on rants about how they can't stand when someone opens a door for them.  They're capable of opening it for themselves, thank you very much, and the fact that a man does such a thing -or anything that could be commonly considered chilvaric- must mean that they are actively trying to get you to have sex with them, and will get angry with you if you don't pay them back in that way for opening the door for you.

I'm sorry.  What?

Maybe it's because I'm from the south and southern people have a different idea about etiquette, but that is the stupidest thing I've ever heard.  I mean, maybe there are some misguided men who think that being a gentleman should be repaid with sex.  I don't personally know anyone like that, but still, I won't say that they don't exist.  However, when people just assume someone who is being kind, or polite, is doing so because they're being predatory in some way, well, that's just absurd.  The thing is, it became clear that a lot of the women commenting actually believe that this line of thinking makes them a very smart, very strong feminist in some way.  No.  It doesn't.  Some of the nicest, most gentlemanly guys I know open doors for me, and they were raised by awesome, bad-ass women who taught them to respect women.  I like it and I appreciate it.  If for some reason you have come to the conclusion that a man trying to be nice to you is only doing it to get into your pants, that doesn't make you an awesome feminist, that makes you an asshole.

If someone opens a door for you, go the f*ck through it and say thank you.