Klassy with a K

In retrospect, I suppose I should have known I'd get a call from a frustrated mother, and then accidentally hang up on her while trying to answer her question.

I had a late rehearsal last night and by the time I was done my stomach was hurting so much I had a hard time standing up straight.  I'd been awake for 19 hours and apparently hadn't had enough to eat and my stomach was NOT PLEASED with me.  I got home, took off my makeup, had some toast, and put away two days' worth of clothes before reading a little and sleeping.  I thought I'd given myself plenty of time this morning to get ready, but I had a couple of things leftover from last night I had to do, and ended up leaving my house with enough time to get to work but not enough time to brush my teeth or put my sunscreen on.

So I brushed and sunscreened in a work bathroom. . . after parking in a VIP spot at the risk of being ticketed because there was NO parking in my lot, and having to move my car right after I checked in at work.

Klassy with a K.  That's me.

I Will Never Be an Expert, Even When I'm an Expert

I curse the internet for this.  I curse it.

You know how you study and work for years and years to know about the things you're interested in?  And how some upstart reads one book and is suddenly an expert because he or she has a Blog with Opinions?  And then how you are terribly discouraged because you have put in so much effort to know things, but no one believes you know them because you don't have a Blog with Opinions or a degree in the subject?

Maybe that's just me, but there are days I really hate Wikipedi@ and the awful bloated glut of information, often misinformation, out there.  There are so many fashion blogs and history blogs and vintage blogs that I feel displaced.  I can't swim against the current when everyone assumes (based on faulty research) that 19th century women had their ribs surgically removed, for instance.  Or when they buy a couple of vintage dresses and now they know all the mores and motivations behind WWII "make it do" fashions. 

Granted, there are some people who really do know what they're talking about, but finding them amongst the flotsam is hard.  In this age of instant expertise (I read it on Wiki!), how do the dues-payers cope?  I don't know everything even though I've always thought I know quite a bit, but public opinion seems to be against me because I don't have a cutesy blog with kooky pictures of myself wearing vintage dresses with ugly boots.  I fear that even if I DO get a masters in the area of clothing/textile history, I'll still not be taken seriously.  I'll be dismissed because I won't accept most research at face value.

On the other hand, if I really do this (if it pans out as planned), should I CARE what some 20-year-old wannabe sartorialist says or does?  Should I CARE that people will always take for granted what they've been fed out of poorly-written books?  Should it bother me at all that some people will never take me seriously because they dress like teenagers? 

I probably shouldn't care or be bothered, but more often than not I want to reach through my monitor and throttle people who don't know what they're talking about.

Let's get the new year started with a rant:

Does it really take that much effort to respond to a text?  Does it REALLY take too much time out of your precious day to push some buttons?  DOES IT?

Because this little black duck is tired of it and is thisclose to deleting a couple of people from her phone, her Facebook, and her life.

It's the classic "I thought we were friends" line going around and around in my head, but I won't actually say it out loud, because it sounds so junior high and immature.

BUT.

HONESTLY.

The only reason I'm keeping one of these people in my phone is so that IF This Person calls/texts, I will know who it is before I answer, but it's starting to feel like a very thin reason.

I'm so tired of this crap.

Things I Hate Today

People willfully perpetuating the stereotype of the "good Mormon wife" by making broad assumptions about my hobbies.

People calling me a Utah Mormon.  Yes, I'm Mormon; yes, I live in Utah; what of it?  I'm neither close-minded nor intolerant.  I don't live in a bubble.  Deal with it.

Too may conversations happening at once.  I can't focus and it makes me cranky and tired.

Losing a digital copy of a huge project.

My mattress.

Uncertainty.

Hey, LISTEN.

I think I'm going to adopt the practice of not talking to anyone until their stupid ear-buds are out of their ears and their stupid MP3 player is turned off.

Does that sound good to you? Good.

Reminders

If I say I don't have something, it is really not in your best interest to look for it FOR me. I've probably already looked. Several times. I don't just say I don't have something. I don't lie.

So, you know, thanks for believing me the first time. Also, thanks for apologizing when you find that thing in your pile of stuff after accusing me (indirectly, of course) of not being responsible.

2010 Political Statement

If you think someone might be an idiot, do your research, track down the sources, put it all together, and prove him or her wrong. Sometimes you can't. Sometimes they're right. Just because you didn't think of it or don't agree doesn't make that person an idiot.

If you don't agree with a pundit, politician, or spokesperson, that's fine, but don't paint everyone with the same brush. That's neither fair nor mature.

I am sick TO DEATH of hearing the same thoughts parroted over and over again. You don't have to agree with everything the Popular Kids think--that's why you have a brain. Don't parrot; think, research, listen, and then say something if you must.

I'm tired of anyone who isn't an official spokesperson of my church making public statements about my church. That means ANYONE: columnist, pundit, politician, friend, author. Knock it off. This is why there are still so many misconceptions about my faith, and this is why I've stopped reading certain blogs/zines (*cough*Segullah*cough*).

Why doesn't anyone remember the rules anymore? Remember how it used to be considered impolite to discuss politics or religion with people you may not know well? Sometimes I curse the internet for the false sense of intimacy and the easiness of anonymity.

Remember who you are. Remember what you believe. Remember that IT'S OK to speak up for those things in this country. Allow others the same rights you demand from them, and exercise your right to walk away or change the channel or, even, take a break from your social networking.

And, sometimes, it's better to keep your mouth shut and your fingers still and not ruin friendships.