1. Rude people. One thing I learned from working in retail. People are freaking rude. Like, why do you need to be so rude? One of my coworkers literally got shhhed when she was trying to help a customer. I got told I was being annoying. And people, don't walk into a store talking on your phone. Or wearing your sunglasses. It's not sunny out anymore, hellooo. And it makes you look like such a tool, words do not describe.

2. Fake people. One thing I do have to give the rudeys is that they certainly don't have this problem. Hey, guess what? I don't really need you to like me, so if you don't, don't act like you do.

3. People who leave stupid comments. Okay, this might be my biggest hate ever. Seriously, I'm not commenting on your blog because I want you to comment back. I took the time to read through your post (I hate posts that have a little text and literally fifty pictures of the same thing. Learn to edit!), and I wanted to comment on it. So don't come to my blog and leave the dumbest comments ever. I'm not talking to everyone, I'm talking to certain people who you can still see. Oh, and I'm calling your ass out.

Clara Turbay: "Your ideas are lovely tasteful and stylish." <-- This, my friends, was left on my last post in which I discussed reading for grown-ups. And, fun fact, she left the same exact comment on my other blog. Verbatim. Sorry, Miss Turbay, I'm sure you're a lovely person and a lovely blogger, but really? 

But Miss Turbay does not win the stupid comment award. Her comment while obviously generic, did no harm. This lovely blogger literally took the cake. Nadya Joy Soetanto, on my post about the Yale graduate dying, left a comment that simply said, "nice coat color." #@%&(%^&%&^%. How shallow do you appear? How obvious can you be that you didn't read my post? 

I'm not saying I don't appreciate comments. They're indicators that my ramblings are getting out there. But don't come to my blog, glance at a picture or two, and leave an asinine comment. Read what I hate number one. Yeah, you're rude.

4. Poor grammar. Note the comments I mentioned above. Both have awful grammar. And I know, I don't have perfect posts (I really need to edit them), but there are just some things you should always do. And people obviously don't. I'm an English major, bare with me.

--YOU ARE is YOU'RE, not YOUR.
--The Oxford Comma is important-->
 It's a, b, and c, NOT a b and c or a, b and c

-- Use a space between A and LOT, Alot is not a word
-- This is how you spell RIDICULOUS. There is no E.

Obviously someone could consider me one of the above. We all have bad parts in us, but these are just some pet peeves I've been wanting to share with the world for a while. I'm not saying any of these people are bad people; they're probably lovely in their own way. I'm just saying people are people, and we all kind of suck sometimes.

Okay, okay. Listen. I've got this brilliant idea. It's called a self-improvement plan. This past year, I had this feeling that I was somehow getting dumber. I know, I'm (read: my parents right now) paying all this money for a quality private, liberal arts college education, and I feel dumber than I did upon high school graduation. What? How? Well, let me tell you. It's not just because I can't answer as many questions on "Jeopardy" than I could when I was enrolled in AP Chemistry, AP Calculus, AP English Language and Literature, AP American History, AP Spanish, a Introduction to Philosophy seminar, and a Newspaper class (do you want to shoot my overachieving seventeen-year-old self? I do, and I haven't even given you my extracurriculars). That is a factor, but it's also the fact that I'm letting life have more of an influence than just education. Which isn't a bad thing at all. Having friends, joining a sorority, experiencing college night life, hanging out in the DH for more than hour--that's just as important as that Accounting class I took my first semester. It's just that I feel like I need a bit more of a balance. I want to be able to engage in conversation about current events. I want to write better, sound wittier, make better references. How? By expanding my reading content. While I love my Glamour and Teen Vogue (I'm nineteen for a few more months, don't judge), and I love reading fashion blogs and allkpop, they're not quite doing it for me. So, starting once I get back from Spain, here are the reading materials I'm going to subscribe to:

--------------------

Escúchame. Tengo esta idea brillante. Es mi plan de mejora. Este año pasado, tuve este sentimiento que me hice más estúpida. Yo sé, estoy (mis padres) pagando mucho dinero por una educación privada y de buena calidad, y siento más estúpida que sentí después de mi graduación de colegio. ¿Qué? ¿Cómo? Pues, permíteme explicar. Es no solo porque no puedo contestar todas las preguntas en “Jeopardy” como pude cuando estudié clases avanzadas en literatura, química, cálculo, historia de los Estados Unidos, y español, una introducción a filosofía, y una clase de periódicos  (¿Quieres matar mi misma que rinde más de lo normal? Hago, y no te he dicho sobre mis actividades después de las horas de escuela). Este hecho es un factor, pero también es el hecho que estoy permitiendo mi vida tiene una influenza más grande que solo educación. Y es no es un hecho malo. Teniendo amigos, ingresando en una hermandad, experimentando la vida de noche de universidad, pasando tiempo en mi cafetería para horas—son tan importantes como la clase de contabilidad que saque en mi primer semestre. Solo… necesito una balanza. Quiero poder participar en conversación sobre los eventos corrientes. Quiero escribir mejor, parecer más ingeniosa, hacer referencias mejores. ¿Cómo? Estoy me expandiendo mi contento de leer. Mientras de me encanta mi Glamour y mi Teen Vogue (¡tengo diez y nueve años!), y me encanta mis blogs de modo y allkpop, no son suficientes. Cuando me vuelvo de España, aquí son las materias de leer que voy a subscribirme a:

Obviously: The New Yorker

For Business: The Economist 

For Fashion & Culture Needs: Elle

For Daily News: New York Times

 Or I might get these sent to my Kindle Fire and read them now... Hm...

O puedo comprarlos para mi Kindle Fire y los leo ahora...Hm...

So, I was going to write a laundry list of how to properly shop and interact with sales associates given my past three days of working, but then I read this article via the College Prepster, and I couldn't help but bring a somber post to the Future Cat Lady Diaries. (NOTE: Read the article!) Because it got me thinking. How many stories have we read or heard about these amazing people dying young? The kid who had a particular sensitivity or the witty high school student who dies in a accident at prom. What could they have contributed to the world had they been able to live longer? The Marina Keegan of this article was on the road to bigger and better things. She had a job lined up in New York City to write for The New Yorker. She was writing for the Yale Daily News. She was president of Yale College Democrats and part of Occupy Yale (which, in my liberal -so-left-I-should-be-registered-as-communist book makes her awesome). Reading her article, she had the right depth, right amount of wit, and the perfect level of sensitivity that as a writer, I wish I had. Who knows? If her life hadn't been cut short, and I hadn't heard of her this way, I would probably be bitterly jealous of her.

But by all intents and purposes, Keegan seemed to be one of those good who die young. And here's the kicker. She died in a car accident. And no one hit her. She was wearing her seat belt, as far as I know her boyfriend (she had a boyfriend too!) was not under the influence of anything, and it was simply a case of him losing control of the car. Do you know how many local stories I hear about car accidents that involve no seat belt or drugs or alcohol? And yet, Keegan was doing everything right. And she died. Which is what makes me wonder the most. How much better could our world have been with all the good people who died?

I know, you can't what-if. It'll drive you mad. And to be fair, when I learned about the romantic poets, I learned that the best of them had the shortest life. Maybe Keegan's best work was what she wrote for the Yale Daily News. Maybe if she had lived in NYC, her life would have taken a turn. Who knows? I doubt what I just wrote, but none of us will ever know if she would go on to become one of the famous columnists or not. What we can do is look and be inspired by the work she already wrote and the way she led her life in the twenty-two years she had.

--------------------

Quise escribir una lista que describe cómo ir de compras e interrelacionarse con asociadas de ventas porque acabo de trabajar la ultimo tres días, pero leí este artículo por la College Prepster, y necesite escribir una entrada sombría a la Future Cat Lady Diaries. (¡LEE EL ARTÍCULO!) Porque el artículo me hace creer. ¿Cuánto historias hemos leído u oído sobre estas personas increíbles que son jóvenes cuando mueren? El chico que tuvo una sensibilidad particular o la estudiante de colegio ingeniosa que muere en una accidente a baile de fin de curso. ¿Qué podrían haber contribuir al mundo si sus vidas había más largas? La Marina Keegan de este artículo fue en un camino a un mundo más grande y mejor. Tuvo un trabajo en la Ciudad de Nueva York  escribir por The New Yorker. Ella escribió por la Yale Daily News. Fue presidente de Yale College Democrats y una parte de Occupy Yale (y en mi libro liberal-tan-izquierda-que-debo-ser-una-comunista le hace alucinante). Después de lees su artículo, puedes ver que ella tuvo el profundidad correcta y la cantidad correcta de ingenio, y el nivel perfecto de sensibilidad que, como una escritora, deseo que tuve. ¿Quién sabe? Si su vida no había abreviada por esta accidente, probablemente sería celosa tremenda.

Pero, por todas intenciones y propósitos, Keegan pareció una persona buena quien muere joven. Y aquí es la parte peor. Ella murió en un accidente de coche. Y un coche no choca contra su coche. Ella llevaba su cinturón de seguridad, y, de yo sé, su novio (¡ella tuvo un novio también!) no había bebido o tomado drogas. El caso fue simple—él perdió control de su coche. ¿Sabes cuántos historias locales que oye sobre accidentes de coches que no envuelve un cinturón de seguridad o envuelve drogas o alcohol? Y, Keegan hace todo correcto. Y ella murió. Este me hace preguntarme la más. ¿Aumentaría nuestro mundo con estas personas buenas que murieron?

Yo sé, no puedes que-si. Te hace loco. Y, cuando entiende sobre los poetas romanticos, entende que el mejor tuvo la vida mas corta. Es posible que el  trabajo mejor de Keegan sea lo que ella escriba para la Yale Daily News. Es posible que si ella viva en CNY, su vida no sea buena. ¿Quíen sabe? Dudo que yo acaba de escribir, pero nunca sabemos. Podemos leer y ser inspirados por el trabajo que ya escribió y la manera que ella vivió su vida en los veinte y dos años que tuvo.

Too. Much.

As someone who secretly dreams of living a life like Anne Shirley of Green Gables, I am sickened of the amount of technology in my life. I was collecting my things from my den when I realized I was collecting a laptop, a Kindle Fire, and an iPhone. Not to mention a TV was playing the baseball game in the background, a TV with a DVD player, a sound system (whatever it's called), and a blu-ray player. I'm pretty sure Anne Shirley lived with none of this, and my secret-romantic-faux-novelist side is hitting me over the head. In fact, instead of keeping an extensive journal for future generations to read and analyze my literary brilliance and passionate ways (I kid, I kid), I've been blogging for the past four or five years. And I'm linked in to pretty much every social media outlet possible. And I spend a good portion on a technology daily--whether it be reading on my kindle, checking Facebook on my phone, doing e-mails on my computer. Heck, Alcott wrote every word of her novels by hand, and I type everything! 


What does this say about me? What does this say about my short attention span and ever changing mind? Or my inability to focus on my writing? Or the way I read? And the problem is, I would love to disconnect. I would love to toss all of it out a window and live via Green Gables with a pen and paper, maybe a typewriter. I would love to write long, lengthy letters to my college friends and keep a journal where my perfect penmanship truthfully records all my musings and thoughts. But I can't. This is our generation. I'm sure Anne would be blogging away if she lived today, and I'm sure she'd be the most connected chick on Facebook. I don't want to delete any aspect of my life in the tech world because it's how I stay in touch. Instead of writing a lengthy letter to my sorority sisters, I can just pop over to their wall and leave them a message.And when I go abroad, I can still see people when I skype. I like being connected. Who knows if I would even be interested in Korea at all without this technology? I know. I don't even know what I'm saying in this post. I'm trying to say I've been bitten a bit my the nostalgia bug, but at the same time I totally got the message from Midnight in Paris: "That's what the present is. It's a little unsatisfying because life is unsatisfying." C'est la vie. I can't even speak French.

Okay, I'm having some trouble maneuvering my way through the second of this trilogy, and I highly doubt I'm going to spend the $10 on the third for my Kindle. Maybe it's because I had no internet, basic cable, and one bar of service that I swept through the first book in a day and a half (and, of course, a twenty page sex scene goes much faster than twenty pages of pretty much anything else), but now that I have all my twenty-first luxuries back plus other books, the second one has been read mostly at the gym. While I'm attempting to run. Or bike. See parentheses as to why.

To start, I like the concept of the book. How many times have you sat around with your girlfriends talking about sex (okay, I do it a lot because I'm curious)? I've heard many a mere mumblings about female preferences in the bed or at least in an enclosed space. I've also seen porn (more on that story some other time), and I've seen what the guys are watching (for the record, what's up with the butt sex videos?). So the fact that someone finally put pen to paper about BDSM that isn't weird or taboo to read got me intrigued. After all, I've always tended to view NYT Bestsellers as at least decently legitimate in their literature (Oh, how wrong that assumption has been now that I look back...). And the cover looks so chic! I brought the first one to prepare myself for loneliness in the woods, and now that I'm in the midst of the second one I have some serious criticism. While I appreciate the introduction to a taboo subject, the style of writing has me put off. To the point where after a few of the sex scenes, I couldn't help giggling at the language. I mean, maybe my maturity levels amongst other factors make me not the best candidate to read this stuff, but seriously. Where do I start? Okay.

1) The Main Characters. I get it, EL started this off as a Twilight fan fiction, so the characters are going to resemble good ole Bella and Edward a little bit (don't even get me started on that franchise). Anastasia is too skinny and often thinks she's less than pretty, but she's surrounded by guys who are into her including our main guy. FYI way to give us the most stereotypical lead. Give me a break on the "too skinny" factor. Most girls I know are not "too skinny" just like not a lot are "too fat." Why can't they be normal size sixes? And she's never thought she was pretty or interested in guys while she's surrounded by handsome fellows ever corner. Give me a break. Stupid. And she's graduating college as a virgin. Which there's nothing wrong with, but the reason is because she has not been sexually attracted to anyone in all her twenty-one years. I'm calling EL out on this because clearly she forgets what it's like to be a twenty-year-old young woman. Every single peer I know, even the ones you don't immediately think of, have some sort of sex drive, and telling us Ana here has none until she lays eyes on the hot-hot-hot Christian Grey is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.
Speaking of Grey, I get it. I want to jump into bed with him as soon as we first meet him. He's got the Edward-mysterious thing down pat, not to mention similar shades of hair...And his smoldering grey eyes are wonderful. Wish I could imagine someone in real life like him. But when you feed crappy dialogue through his beautifully pursed lips, all my wonderfully hot images of him are shattered in five seconds flat and the giggles start. Seriously, some of his phrasing is so awkward, especially the sexy lines, I'm one-hundred-percent confidant that if some guy said that to me, I would probably leave. Laughing in a way that would do some damage to said fellow's confidence. Also, one little annoyance. How is he so freaking rich at twenty-seven? I can understand trust-fund babies or even moderately rich people who have good connections post college and are ambitious enough to climb their way up quickly, but I cannot imagine Grey, who has very little connections, having risen all the way up to be pretty much as rich as those characters I watch in my K-dramas. What? What? I just wish he had been a little older. Thirty. I could buy thirty.

2) The Setting. Surprise, surprise, a book created from Twilight is set in Washington and Oregon. That's not what I have an issue with when I say setting. I'm talking about the fact that this novel is set in 2011. You know, present day, today. So the fact that Ana has gone all four years of college without her own computer or laptop is something I find ludicrous. Small detail, but it's part of her issues with Grey buying her all this nice stuff. HOW DO YOU GO FOUR YEARS SANS COMPUTER IN THIS DAY AND AGE? She says she used the computer labs, but, excuse me, what about your senior thesis? I do not trust one flash drive and computer labs. Given I go to a small, private liberal arts college, but everyone I have ever met has a laptop. It's not that expensive for the basic kind. And the fact that Grey and Ana communicate via e-mail the way most of us would communicate via text message or Facebook chat I find very silly as well. Maybe that's just me.

3) The Stereotypes. Oh the list could go on. Besides the character stereotypes, this is what else I have issue with. Okay, here's the deal. No great piece of literature compares itself to another piece of literature. In fact, all the books I've read, it's the crappy ones that like to reference classic lit, as though the author is trying to prove his/her background in the world, thus accrediting his/her own writing. So the fact that James likes to reference (and butcher, mind you) one of my favorite pieces of classic lit just kills me. Okay, let's compare the situation of Tess of the D'Urbervilles to this one. Only, Mr. Grey is Alec (the guy who RAPES Tess) and not Angel (who's also kind of idiot, but the lesser of the two evils). Really? Really? Is this real life? And this is derived from the fact that our MC is a fan of classic lit, being an English major. And tying back to her lack-of-a-sex-drive through college, it's because no one quite compares to the Rochesters and Darcys of her books. And the fact that Grey is so instantly attracted to what he perceives to be Ana's submissive behavior (which, thankfully, she's not very submissive at all) is the stereotype of stereotypes. I do have to say, at least James admits it in her character scenario. You probably won't get Meyers to admit Bella is totally submissive.

4) The Dialogue. This kills me. Okay, I understand why some of it may sound off to my ears as the author is British. And she may not realize some of the things she writes sound super weird. Like "Laters, Baby." I'm pretty sure that sounds normal when spoken with a British accent. However, in an American one, you will sound like a tool or an idiot or just stupid. And literally whenever Grey says "Baby," my insides shrivel in total putt-offedness. I mean, really. "Baby." Coming from the mouth of a smoking hot, mysterious man. Especially when they're in the heat of the moment, and he says something like, "Oh, Baby" or "No, Baby, no." Gah! I can't stand it. It sounds so awful. And so not hot. "Baby" is for those annoying girls on reality television who call out to their boyfriend like "Babbbbyyyy! Where arreee youu?!" Makes my ears hurt.

5) Grey's backstory. This bit annoys me. If you wanted try and normalize BDSM, you do not make your experienced BDSMer a BDSMer because he has a screwed up childhood. His druggie mother and her abusive pimp. I mean, really? And this is the reason he doesn't like to be touched, and he likes to tie her hands up and yadadada. Talk about stereotypes! "I'm totally in to dominating my submissives because I was abused up until my adoption at four." Also he's a total stalker (which they mention numerous times) and a total control freak.

6) THE SEX SCENES. Obviously. Okay, I'll give James that the majority of the sex scenes are hot-hot-hot. And I get that given the erotic nature of the novel, she mentions things that other romance authors skim over, but oh my gosh some of the scenes made me so uncomfortable. Remember I've watched porn, I'm not that uncomfortable by most of what I read. But, James, you win. I won't mention some of them, but the one that sticks on most in my mind is when they get it on during her period. -Shrivels up inside- And it's gross. It's the most unsexy sex scene I've ever read in my life! She's on like Day 2 of her period. You know how I feel on Day 2 of my period? Like a bleeding whale. The last thing I want to do is have hot make-up sex with anyone. Gross. And, no one but me, myself, and I is dealing with the tampon/pad part of my period but me. In the privacy of my own bathroom. Or a bathroom stall. No one is touching those things but me. So the fact that Grey does so nonchalantly grosses me out beyond repair.

Alright. So there it is. My long essay of issues with Fifty Shades of Grey. I will give kudos that James at least acknowledges the flaws of her characters that most find with other books. And I give her kudos on getting an erotic romance book on the NYT Bestseller's list and convincing a tone of people to read it. Am I jealous that something that started from fan fiction and is really very poorly written is published and so popular? Damn straight. I want to be a novelist too. And I'm writing on a little blog that barely anyone reads about problems I have with this book. But hey, life is life. I say, it's an easy beach read and quite good for the gym when five minutes feels like forever. But I'm not planning on wasting the money on the third book. I'll google a Wikipedia article or something if I'm curious.