Wednesday, February 25, 2009

God Created Stories; Idiots Created Metaphors

Being an English major, I've come across a wide variety of characters in the classroom. Some of the characters I've liked, some of them a little loopy, and some of them that just get on my nerves. It's not only the students either. This includes the whole spectrum: Professors, students, books, you name it.

I know what you're going to say: " You're an English major and you don't like books?"

That's not it at all. The reason I became an English major, is because I like the creative aspect of writing. I enjoy writing, and I enjoy reading what other people have to offer. However, it gets to a point to where Literature is absolutely drained of all its quality and main purpose (to entertain) when people downright over analyze every bit of a story!

I remember one time in high school, I was so proud of myself when my sixth grade English teacher read a story I wrote about overcoming my fear of roller coasters. She started reading it and my self-esteem was at a high point, when all of a sudden, she decided to put a few "closing statements" on my paper. Instead of praising my actual story, she started to praise "secret" messages in the story that I wasn't even aware of putting. According to Mrs. Big Bird (we'll call her), when I screamed at the very top of the roller coaster, I was releasing all my anxiety and freedom through my vocal cords. Hmm... and all this time I thought I screamed because I was scared out of my mind. Thank you for clarifying that I had freedom vocal cords Mrs. Big Bird, I'll keep that in mind the next time I write my next story.

Coming back to this day and age, I start looking around the classroom and realize that the students are just as bad as the professors! I have two literature classes in a row, and I have to read stories about teenage boys beating a hare for supper, in Phyllis Bottome's A Mortal Storm and at the same time listen to people in class say "The hare represents the downfall of their society!" Hmm... Yes it's true that their lives weren't that grand, but could it be a possibility that the young boys were beating the crap out of this rabbit because they were hungry and couldn't afford food?

The over analyzing gets better. In my next class on regionalism and American imperialism in Literature, we have to read and listen to a gamut of articles written by more people over analyzing a book and discuss it in class. In addition to these crazy articles, you have the "classic" literature characters jumping out of their seats all enthusiastic about the articles and agreeing with them. For example, we just finished reading: The Country of the Pointed Firs by Sarah Orne Jewett. Now... I don't know if anyone knows a little bit about Sarah Orne Jewett, but people claimed that she was a lesbian. Back in the day, it wasn't called that. Instead, her and her partner were involved in a "Boston Marriage". So because of her acclaimed preferance in lifestyle, a lot of people (within the class and in these articles) claim that her work has "hidden lesbian agendas". Without knowing her history, I wouldn't have even looked at the novel in that way. Instead, I would have just seen it as two women bonding and telling stories. But no... In the eyes of other people, they have to over analyze the whole "relationship" and say that these women were together all the time because they're "gay". "Oh look! They're holding hands, and all their husbands are dead! So that must mean Sarah Orne Jewett wants us to join the lesbian fan club..."

Unfortunately, due to professors and students over analyzing these stories and jumping to unnecessary conclusions, I often times feel lost in the actual plot. So my advice? Just relax a tad bit. Yes, there's a possibility the author wanted a secret meaning or symbolism in his/her work, but I don't think he/she wants to take away from the actual pleasure of reading a good book.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

The Neighbors From Hell

We all dream of the day when we move into the perfect house with the perfect scenery, the environment which involves the white picket fence, a decently sized peach three bedroom, two bathroom house, with the perfect roof, perfect green grass with a charming little labrador puppy rolling around with its favorite toy. The sweet little peach house seems to be highlighted by clear azure skies every single day, along with a friendly little community of neighbors surrounding it. In reality, do we always get that? Not in my case!

Forget the charming little labradors next door that you can greet with a smile and "Hey Rover!", instead, there's an unfriendly Cerberus, barking all hours of the morning and night. Forget the clear azure skies, because that's blocked off by a fellow neighbor's ugly wooden fence and overcrowded amusement park in his backyard. Forget the sweet family with two flawless parents and two darling children, because that family expanded into an overpopulated town filled with loud, abnoxious, inconsiderate people. These are my neighbors. Aint it grand? Surrounding my depressed little house are my neighbors I like to call: Amusement Park Neighbors, Single College Guy Neighbor, and Sardine Can Neighbors. Here's a brief overview, ranging from the "not so bad" to "holy crap!"

  • Amusement Park Neighbors: This is the family that lives to the left side of me. Now, personality wise, these people are tops. The family consists of a wife and a husband and their two sons ages five and seven, and their adorable dog Spike. I have absolutely no conflict with these people, personality wise. They say "good morning" every morning, and chat about their days in the afternoon. However, here's where the problem comes in. This man is ALWAYS doing some sort of construction with his house, or doing something ridiculous to his lawn. I understand that it's their lawn, and their business, but it's kind of annoying when you have to drive by Pee Wee's playhouse every day and night. It first started off cute. "Oh my goodness! How adorable, they have a little pond by the house." a few weeks later: "Oh wow... they're really expanding on the pond. Look at all those rocks." A few months later: "What the hell is that? A mountain?" A year later: "Ok seriously, who the hell needs a moat in their backyard, guarded by a dozen hideous garden nomes?" In addition to the moat in the front of the house, there's a series of tacky lights leading up to the doorway, followed by a HUGE playground for the kids. That's right... You heard me correctly... Not a little swingset, it's an actual playground that is BIGGER than the house (Keep in mind, the backyard isn't that big at all. I live in a typical middle class neighborhood). Our houses are separated by one ugly random wooden gate (the rest of the house is surrounded by a wire gate). And there's all sorts of floral decorations all around the house. To keep up with the tacky greenery, he waters the plants every night with the sprinkler. Well, since the plants are closer to my house, where do you think the water also goes? In order to get into my house, I have to squish through the mushy grass to get to the door. This is not a fun process.

  • Single College Guy Neighbor: Now, this guy has lived on the right side of my house for quite some time now. Here's the catch: when he was growing up in this house, he lived in the company of his parents and his sister (whom was my best friend growing up). For years,I've never had any trouble with this house. It was always peaceful and quiet. The mother was a very sweet and caring person. The father was questionable, and kind of irritable, but nonetheless, QUIET. I had absolutely no problems. Well, within the last few years, my best friend moved out to attend school in Georgia, and the parents followed shortly after, moving closer to the father's occupation. With everyone being gone, this left the whole house to this single college guy. Two words... FRAT HOUSE. I'm not even sure if this guy is taking classes, because there's always a group of guys and a couple of girls going in and out of the house, and every once in a blue moon, they'll play loud music in all hours of the night (did I mention that the house is right by my bedroom window?), meanwhile, I have class at 8 in the morning. I don't know what has been going on lately, but I thought the concerts were over and the frat house was officially closed, however, there's a new annoyance in the mix. I have no idea where this guy goes, but I hardly ever see a car there. So all was peaceful until Scruffy was put into the picture. I love animals, don't get me wrong. I practically have a zoo at my house! However, this is the dog from hell. This is the sort of dog that a person looks at and wonders, "why the hell did you get this thing?" For starters, it's not cute whatsoever. It looks like an evil spawn of Satan, it's not even friendly (it snarls at me, and barks at the owner when he comes home), and he barks nonstop morning till night. Now, I know my neighbor doesn't have a problem with this ugly thing because he's never home, but I sure as hell do!

  • Sardine Can Neighbors: These are the type of people families pray they never move next to. Well, these people live across the street from me. While the other neighbors I have, have rather pleasant personalies just annoying habits, these people are the unfriendliest, rudest bunch I have ever met. For starters, there are over ten cars constantly parked at that house. To be quite honest, if I saw a person standing in front of that house, I would probably not know whether or not that person lived there (it's that crowded). They're the type of people who celebrate every occassion. "Little Amelia lost a tooth? Let's celebrate till 4 in the morning! Why the hell not? Let's YELL AT THE TOP OF OUR LUNGS to celebrate this joyous occassion!" On New Year's I almost had a heart attack. There were five people on the roof shooting a gun in the air screaming like a bunch of maniacs. To top that off, they always have new cars added to the collection of cars in their front lawn, and when there's no space, where do you think the cars park? You guessed it correctly... In front of our mushy lawn, with the idiot Scruffy yelping and barking on top of that noise. There was even one time two women let a little girl inside our gate to play with our dogs (without asking). I walked outside to get the mail, and there was a little terror wrestling with my dog! The ladies just stood there with no greeting, not even regarding my presence. They just stood there like a couple of turkey buzzards.

There you have it. This is my oasis, my utopia, my dream. I'm hoping one day my time will come when I can live in my perfect home. But in the meantime, I'll take what I can have, mushy grass, turkey buzzards, devil dogs, and all. For now this is my home sweet home, flaws and all.

Friday, February 13, 2009

That's A Lot of Dirty Diapers...

I was debating whether or not I should "blog" about the human breeding machine, Nadya Suleman. There are so many things I want to say about this issue, that I just couldn't hold my tongue anymore. If you aren't familiar with Nadya Suleman and her newest octuplet addition, here's a little recap on what has been going on in the news:
Nadya Suleman is the proud mother of 14 children. Yes, that's right. You heard correctly. In addition to the newest babies of the family, she had six previous children already. What a blessing, wouldn't you say? Well, here's the problem: One baby is expensive... For a middle class family living in the western United States, one baby under 1 year old will cost approximately $9,171. Now, seven more babies increases the sum just a bit to $73,368 (and this isn't including the other six kids she has.) As the children grow older, the price increases quite a bit to $171,926 per child. Correct me if I'm wrong, but for an unwed mother, with no current occupation, and fourteen kids, isn't this kind of a bad thing? It's one thing to bring these babies into this world, it's another thing when someone doesn't have the financial ability to take care of all of these kids, and is just sitting back and letting the government and hard-working tax payers pay for her kids.
I just can't sit back and keep my mouth shut anymore about this woman. I understand that having kids is a blessing, it really is. I hear it and see it all the time with my friends and family that have kids. However, watching this woman have all these babies without the slightest notion of how she's going to take care of these kids with a calm expression on her face is absolutely frightening to me! Physically, yes, she seems very sweet and sincere from what I can see on tv. Nurturing, I'm sure she can be. However, unfortunately in this day an age, in order to nurture our children, we do need the financial stability to do so. I just can't believe this woman isn't taking these things into consideration.
And that brings me to this problem in society. People just keep on having babies like rabbits. If you can afford it, that's fine in my opinion. However, when someone is a single unmarried mother, not working, raising FOURTEEN KIDS, I have a serious problem.
The thing that has me just absolutely flabbergasted is the fact that this woman can AFFORD to have all this plastic surgery on her face, and can PLAN on having all these babies, but not have the money to pay for these little ones.
People keep arguing about whether or not this woman is crazy. I'll give you my opinion, she is absolutely bonkers and out of her mind. So are the rest of these women having more than a dozen kids and can't pay for them. I understand that there are "accidents", but having more than four kids without the financial stability isn't an accident anymore, it's pure reckless. In my opinion, they should save their money for birth control products or practice ABSTINENCE. Believe me, it's a cheaper process!

Sunday, February 8, 2009

The Addiction Must Go

What is an addiction? A source that ruins the lives of family, friends, and loved ones? Or can an addiction be an overwhelming nuiscance that drives people into the brink of insanity? Well, from my experience, addictions just have one definition- a PAIN IN THE ASS. I understand we have our little hobbies, and interests, but one thing I have an absolute hard time swallowing is when people are so addicted to their hobbies, they can't focus on simple conversation. From my previous post, I've already mentioned my hatred towards internet social networks. Don't get me wrong, like I mentioned before, small dosages of this is okie dokey with me, but when it comes to the point where people are checking their myspace and facebook every five seconds just to see what Big Bill is doing, I would consider that a serious annoyance. However, there are other addictions in the online community that I'm not so fond of.

For all those community gamers out there, I know this new game trend will ring a bell: World of Warcraft. Yes girls, I know half of the girlfriends out there know the frustration of this game. My boyfriend has been a serious World of Warcraft gamer for years now. I love this man to death, but oh my God, I feel as if I'm the "other woman" in this relationship sometimes. I'm a girl, so I love the whole romance idea. Any time we're in that "romance zone", it's a great experience. I cherish every moment we spend together. However, there are moments when he darts out of the "cuddling" zone and runs to the computer. Here's a reenactment between myself and Snuggles (yes, we have over the top adorable pet names for each other and I don't care!):

Snuggles: (Has a worried look on his face, looking around for his socks)
Jade: Come back to bed and hold me for a few minutes.
Snuggles: I can't! Don't you understand? There's going to be a raid in fifteen minutes.
Jade: Aren't there other raids besides that one?
Snuggles: No I need this one. I need so many points to get new armor.
Jade: Screw the armor! What about me?
Snuggles: I can't... I have to go...
Jade: So soon?
Snuggles: Yes... I'll come back and check on you after we're done.
Jade: Snuggles...?
Snuggles: I'm sorry... (walks out the room)
Jade: SNUGGLES!!!!

And with that... I was left alone due to the new love in his life... Alone and replaced... By a box with mystical creatures going to war with each other.
Stop Ruining MY Food
Do you ever have that one friend or person in your life that is in love with working out? Well, if you don't, you're not missing out on that experience! I have this one friend that is obsessed with dieting and working out. There's absolutely nothing wrong with dieting and working out, I'm doing it... But I don't have a sign hanging from my neck saying "I'M ON A DIET, SO DON'T EAT IN FRONT OF ME!"
My boyfriend and his friends threw my friend a big birthday bash with -yes- food. Very sweet, wouldn't you say? Well, the birthday party didn't go as expected. Her addiction got the best of her before the party even started with her looking in the mirror and screaming and lifting up her shirt. Again, I'll perform another reenactment with my friend "Matrix" (We'll just leave it at that nickname.)

Matrix: Damn it JADE! I look fat.
Jade: What the hell are you talking about? Your stomach is flat!
Matrix: No it's not... I look preggers! (slaps her nonexistant stomach)
Jade: You look fine...
Matrix: See! I knew it... I look okay but not good!
Jade: You do! You look great, fine, gorgeous, whatever.
Matrix: You're just saying that because it's my birthday.
Jade: No I'm just saying that because I wanna get out of the damn house and eat already.

Meanwhile, she made us even more late because we had to make a pit stop at Publix to check her weight on the scale (which she did three times a day). To make matters worse, we came to the house filled with delicious food, and I had to hear her ramble on and on about how eating a bunch of calories late at night wasn't good for us. Well, that wouldn't have been a problem if she didn't make us late with her previous temper tantrum. Needless to say, I didn't let the late night calorie overdose and cranky birthday girl ruin the night.
Sorry Ma'am, Your Card Has Been DECLINED
Have you ever looked around the house and wondered: "What the hell is this?" Well, that's my life every single day. It seems as though every moment I open my eyes, there's a new product in my house that will never be used. My Mom has this addiction of buying and collecting useless crap. She says she absolutely LOVES candles. The funny thing about this is that we don't have a single candle laying around the house (minus one or two). Stashed away in the "mystery cabinet" are shelves full of candles and candle holders that we never see until a hurricane hits or we have a major blackout. Besides that, those candles serve no other purpose other than antique dust collectors. It doesn't stop with the candles, oh no. Here is a list of junk that my Mom had bought and MAXed out her credit card with.

  • Towels

  • Pillows

  • Scrubbing Bubbles (Ok... With scrubbing bubbles, we only need one in the house. We've had the same can of scrubbing bubbles for a year and yet, we have 80 cans of scrubbing bubbles)

  • Clearance DVDs from Walmart (crappy movies that she has never watched in her life)

  • Books with the name "Jade" in it... Whether it's the title or author (Mom, I get it... My name is Jade... You love me and love the name obviously... But that doesn't make the book good.)

  • A collection of makeup (she NEVER wears makeup...But that's ok, I make some use of it!)

  • Baby Powder

  • Baby Oil (We have six bottles of baby oil...Why? I haven't the slightest clue...)

  • Magazines (Again, she never reads them. My dad just ends up throwing them out after a week)

  • Tuna ( Again.... We have a cabinet full of tuna... Who the hell eats that much tuna??)

  • As Seen On TV stuff (The ShamWow, for example. It really doesn't make me say "wow" everytime...I use it and say "Ok...I could have had this much fun with a regular paper towel.)

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Just Sweat it Off

It's one thing to point out flaws in a person, it's another thing to point out certain disorders that cannot be helped or controlled. You may ask where I'm going with this... Well, I have a certain disorder known as Palmer Hyperhidrosis. For those of you that aren't familiar with this disorder, it's basically a disorder where my hands sweat. Now, I understand we all get sweaty hands when we're nervous, scared, or anxious, but in cases of Palmer Hyperhidrosis patients, the sweating is extreme. In some cases, you can see drops of sweat rolling down. I hate the fact that I have to warn people about this disorder a billion and one times, just to avoid the embarrassment! Look, it's not hard to understand people. This is a disorder that both my father and I have, and it makes our hands sweat. Sometimes it's worse than others, and sometimes they don't sweat at all. But if people continuously start pointing out my sweaty little secret, I will be forced to shove my hand in your face! No I won't... I'm a lover, not a fighter. But my hands won't appreciate the awkwardness, and I'm sure they'll sweat more.

I've had so many experiences with my palmer hyperhidrosis that have really bothered me since birth, but it would take a novel to list all of them. So, I'll just stick to a blog sum of experiences:

  • Boys, Boys, Boys As if the dating scene wasn't crazy enough, I've had to put up with the constant explaining before we moved on to the "holding hands" stage. And then when I ended up explaining this supernatural disorder to these boys from the past, I had to go into detail about what this was... Are you ok, are you going to die from it? Can I get it too? (I'm not even kidding, I did get that comment before)... People... It's not a fad you can just pick up, nor is it a highly contagious disease. MY HANDS SWEAT SOMETIMES. I'm not an alien that's going to leak out green acid from my hands. And then I have to continuously watch as they wipe their hands on their jeans after holding my hand.
  • No Manicures For Me Please: The thing with hyperhidrosis is this... Sometimes my hand can feel like any normal hand, but when I'm nervous or people POINT IT OUT, they will sweat more. It's sort of my way of blushing? Anyway, My nails look like total crap because I don't even get them done anymore at nail salons, because I have to deal with the "Eeeeeeew. Your hand wet!" And again... I have to watch as they continuously wipe their hands on their jeans. I remember one episode, where I got this really cranky guy that kept on getting pissed at me because my hands were sweating. He even called some of his regular clients in the store to gather around and look at my hands. Needless to say... He didn't get a tip.
  • CLEAR YOUR DESK OF ALL PAPERS We've heard this phrase several of times when test time comes... Of course, due to my hands, I have to keep a little folded paper out so my palm won't soak through the damn test. Half the times in class I got screamed at for "not following directions", because... I didn't clear my desk of "everything". So... I constantly had to explain to all my teachers about my disorder, and make a mini scene in the classroom with the folded piece of paper in my hand.
  • Why Is This Wet? There have been several of times when someone has grabbed a notebook or object of mine that I had been holding, and they'd look at the thing with horror and scream: "Oh my God! Why is this all wet Jade?! Did you piss on this?! It's on my hands now!" And of course I had to give the whole spiel about what it was....And again, watch as they wiped their hands on their jeans.
  • That's A Mighty Wet(?) Handshake You've Got There: I dread handshakes... I'm just lucky I live in Miami, where I can get away with kissing people on the cheek. If people don't go by that rule of greeting... Yes...You've guessed it... I have to watch them wipe their hands on their jeans.

I understand that curiosity gets the best of us sometimes, but sometimes it puts people in extremely awkward situations. I've learned to laugh at this disorder and answer questions about it. Sometimes people ask why I don't have surgery done for it. There is a surgery for this, but there is a chance that I may come out with sandpaper hands, or mild sweating in other places (according to the doctor). Hmm... Clammy hands vs. sweating on every possible body crevice? No thanks... I'll keep my disorder and you can just wipe your hands on your jeans and walk away.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

A Little Soap Never Hurt Anyone

There's one thing that really gets to me and causes me to spaz out every time I see it happen. Can anyone take a guess? Well, I'll give you a little story... Imagine being in the bathroom with someone, hearing an orchestra of bodily noises, followed by the smell of some ungodly stench, after trying to brace myself from not giggling, I hear the sound of the double flush (obviously full of who knows what), a zipper being pulled up, the bathroom stall opening, followed by the bathroom door opening. I couldn't believe what I just didn't hear. My eyes opened with shock and horror at the missing element in this range of sounds.

Where the hell was the sink and blow dryer in this equation?! I don't care if the person had a glove on when doing their business, by the sounds of what was going on in there, it didn't sound like this person was doing too well. Wash your hands people! There's all kind of germs and excess build up of funky stuff on hands as one proceeds with their daily activities. Please relieve your skin with a little wash! Stop horrifying people, such as myself...

There are a couple of "theories" on why people do not wash their hands that I found interesting:

  • Pure Laziness: Yes... Because it takes so much work to pump a little soap into a person's hand and scrub it for 15 seconds and rinse. Man, I'm just sweating thinking about the hard labor..
  • Hypochondria: Believe it or not, there are people out there that think they will catch more germs by touching the sink and other products in the bathroom. *Newsflash* There's a chance of getting sick and catching all sorts of illnesses if you don't wash your hands.

So please, creepy poopie lady inside the Target restroom, do us all a favor and wash your hands next time you decide to have an explosion. I know what you did... And there's no turning back time, but there are ways of improving the hygiene. There's a good reason for that too! Besides catching illnesses like the flu or other viruses, it can also spread to other people. I understand that they're "your germs", but I sure as hell don't want "your germs". My germs are happy playing by themselves, and I'm sure others would agree. In all seriousness, think of other people. When someone doesn't wash their hands, their germs can easily spread on any object, food that we put in our mouths, and pass on to children easily whom have weaker immune systems. Studies show that 1 in 3 E. coli outbreaks are caused by poor handwashing or no handwashing by food preparers.

So for those fellow nonwashers out there, wash away! It's not hard, here are certain guidelines to follow when washing:

  • Wash hands with warm water (not hot...don't kill yourself people) and soap.
  • Scrub your hands gently for fifteen to twenty minutes (or as they suggest in elementary school, sing Happy Birthday as you're washing your hands...Um...I don't suggest doing that at a bar or a club because they'll definately cut you off with the drinks.)
  • For all those hypochondriacs out there afraid of "catching" other peoples germs when touching the sink...No worries, shut the faucet off with a paper towel if needed.
  • Last but not least... I don't have to tell you the rest... Just wipe your damn hands and walk out the door.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009


Ok, so when did MySpace become America's new phone number? I couldn't believe what happened to me recently in a group project. It started off as the typical: "Hi, yeah, yeah, I'm Sally, I'm Sue, I'm Tiffany." When it came to getting the contact information, everyone started to write their names on a piece of lined paper when all of a sudden, another brainwashed soul perked her head up with a cheerful smile and said: "Hey! Do all of you guys have myspace? We could keep in contact through there."

Yes... Why don't we ALL send our papers on early romanticism to each other's mail boxes? And when everyone gets home, we can all have a cheesy smile on our faces because -SURPRISE- we have a new message. A message from someone I see on a daily basis. Oh, gee wilikers, the magic of new messages! Meanwhile, underneath the messages are a huge list of friend requests from people seeking to be crowned myspace's queen and king of the internet prom.

Needless to say, I had to be the cyber party pooper because (gasp) I deleted my myspace. You should have seen the look on their faces. It was like I had just stabbed someone in the classroom, dragged the body across the floor, and put it on my desk. Why on earth were they looking at me as if the earth was suddenly going to end? I was a geek in high school, did I seriously have to be labeled the lame one in college because I wasn't keeping up with all the internet trends? This has never happened to me before... I had officially entered the twilight zone.

To make matters worse, I had to go into why I deleted my myspace, to people I've never talked to in my life. Someone please call Maury because this girl doesn't have a Myspace! I have to admit, that I too once fell victim to this whole Myspace brainwashing system. Most of my dating life came from dating sites online, and yes, Myspace was one of them. I can't say that no good came from that site, because I did meet my boyfriend (of seven months now) on there. However, once I was in the "dating" zone, certain problems started coming up, and I deleted the site for several reasons:

  1. MYSPACE IS A RELATIONSHIP KILLER: I originally signed up with myspace because I wanted exposure to certain modeling networks/photographers. I did manage to get a casting call from America's Next Top Model, but that was about it. Besides that I had perverts writing on my page and commenting on my pictures. Needless to say, it didn't look too good.
  2. Gotta Get On That Top Eight! Oh my God... Do you know how much drama the top eight caused? Who is this guy? Who is this girl? Why is she before me when you've only known her for six months? Why did I move down her list? Fine... If she moves me down on her friend's list, I'm completely taking her off mine! How childish is this? I feel like I can have a greater conversation with my cousin Dane and he's only a toddler. I found that every single time someone got "dropped" from someone else's list, I was always the middle monkey trying to cheer everyone up. In all honesty, I got tired of playing Dr. Phil.
  3. The MySpace Stalkers: Number one, I used an alias on my myspace site, and somehow people still found me. I remember one random night, a girl I met at a club found me on myspace the very next day. I've never met her in my life, she didn't know my "fake name", and as far as I'm concerned, she didn't associate with any of my friends. Yes, just a tad bit creepy in my book...
  4. I Already Talk To The People I Need to Talk To: If I no longer talk to a person, or contact that person in any way, that's for a good reason. I already talk to the people I want to talk to, and that's that.

To sum up everything in a nutshell, I can relate to all the Myspace addicts out there because I was one. But seriously, just back up a little bit and look at the other technology we have out there. If Myspace crashes, there's still cell phones, e-mail, and my oh my-- friendly conversation (dare I say.... In person!) Myspace is an epidemic and quite the contradiction. It's called "Myspace", yet somehow everyone is in YOUR SPACE. Thanks a lot Tom.