Cow Tipping

It's a pretty simple equation in my mind, apparently more complex in other's. I've never really been able to wrap my head around it - when you go to a bar, the person behind the bar being paid to serve you takes your order, takes 2.7 seconds to crack a bottle or pour liquid into a glass, charges you an astronomical amount for what you're getting, and then on top of that, expects you to give him/her a tip. That which I question is, what have you, the bartender, done in that 2.7 seconds that warrants my gift of generosity? Have you gone above and beyond your duties? No. Have you exerted yourself in any commendable manner? Hardly. The only thing I could possibly fathom that would warrant deserving a tip is if said bartender has made a particularly difficult drink, quickly and efficiently served you despite a packed bar, or served a group many drinks at once. However, at 10:30 pm when the bar is empty and I've ordered a rye and ginger and a beer, I hardly see any category of tip requirements being met.

So when I get told "Next time you order a round, go to the other bartender Kenny, he'll be your best friend" with attitude and an eye roll from some dumb blonde who has voluntarily chosen the job of bartender, and is no doubt aware of the set pay rate and the job requirements, I think I was justifiably pissed. If you have to ask for a tip, chances are you didn't deserve one in the first place. And if you think you'll be tipped after being rude and insulting to your customer, think again. Sometimes I really just don't get people. And like the Care Bear Caring Meter, my faith in humanity dips even lower on the scale.

P.S. Please don't get me wrong - I tip wait staff and cab drivers and people in customer service sectors who often go above and beyond their duties. However, I don't think it's mandatory and will not tip, or will otherwise tip significantly less, when I see little effort put into the job at hand. What I can't stand to see is people who tip automatically or don't change the tip according to the quality of work. This is just feeding the fire, making workers think they don't have to actually work for the generosity of their patrons. In fact, they come to expect a tip, hence Brainless Betty behind the counter at Neutral Saturday night. Why do we shake our heads when we see a child having a temper tantrum in a shopping mall, when that child is rewarded for his or her actions by receiving the candy or item that he or she was crying over? Yet, we do not find it problematic to tip customer service employees who are rude/careless/lazy, etc., and who are likely just as undeserving as that spoiled child? Isn't it enough that we're frequenting their establishment, keeping them in a job in the first place? Like I said before, if you don't like your job and the set payrate, then get another. It's not like there isn't any.



And for that matter, how come I never gotten a tip? I work in customer service - behind the till or on the floor of a retail store. I consistently go out of my way to help customers find what they're looking for, make calls to suppliers and bother managers on their lunch break to answer customer concerns. Do you think I've ever gotten a tip? Nor do I expect one - and nor should anyone of any position. So if you do get a tip, be thankful. And if not, work harder and realize that your customers probably work just as hard, if not harder, for their money than you.

Damn the Ignorant, Not the Institution

York University has been in the news a lot since the summer, many detailing seperate incidents of harrassment and assault. The details of each incident have been kept deliberately vauge, understandably so to protect the identity of the victims. Many are quick to blame York's security team for the crimes occuring on campus. However, many are unaware that this year alone York has spent over 3 million dollars on its CCTV network and increased sercurity presense (CTV News, Jan. 16/08), and there is barely an inch of campus that isn't covered under the watchful eye of security guards 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. The only places, however, that are not guarded by cameras and regular security presense is in an area where privacy is expected: the residence.

I've personally never stayed in a residence before. Coming from a lower-middle class family, and being in such close proximity to several university campuses, I've had no need. However, I've stayed with friends at Western, at York, and even in dorm-style staff residences with my boyfriend when he was in Whistler B.C. A common trend I've seen among all was the tendancy to leave dorm doors open - not just unlocked, but physically open, while my friends would work, play, or even leave the room entirely for several minutes or hours. I'm an only child and have always lived on my own, and so I found this behaviour curious. The answer to my question was "it's anti-social to close your doors". My response to that is, is it anti-social to protect your belongings and your personal safety? Am I being anti-social when I lock my door when I sleep, when I step out, or even when I'm inside to protect myself? What if a robber or a rapist wants to stop by? I really wouldn't want to offend.

I barely trust my things and my privacy in my own home, never mind in a hall full of strangers or people you believe you "know". Not to mention that who knows who or what kind of people your hall mates or building mates are bringing into your living space. It gets under my skin when I hear people play the victim, especially when they pass the buck to an institution that does what it can to protect its population. However, one must realize that public safety can only go so far, and if one is not adamant about working to ensure one's own safety, how can they expect to be safe 100% of the time?

News flash - the world is a terrible place, and there are millions of people out there who will do what they will, for whatever sick or desparate reason, to take advantage of you. If you choose to walk down dark alleys at night, leave your door open to whomever so chooses to enter, or put yourself into situations where you safety may be compromised, you have no one to blame but yourself for letting others take advantage of you.

How many incidents will it take before women realize that they cannot safely travel alone? For that matter, when will men realize they're not exempt from being a victim of crime? It's not fair, but it's a fact of life. Go with a buddy, take a self-defense class, carry a cell phone or whistle. Be aware of who your friends are - even those who you trust can be given to temptation. I found out the hard way when I left my purse in my boyfriend's house for 45 seconds, and had it stolen by an affluent kid who has most likely never had to work a day in his life, with everything in my purse already at his fingertips should he just say the word. It's disgusting, but it's reality.

So York, Are we safe? Only when we are all willing to take responsibility for our own actions, and not a moment until then.


UPDATE:

Information re: January alleged sexual assault

TORONTO, January 29, 2008 -- The Toronto Police Sex Crimes Unit, in cooperation with York University Security Services, has completed its investigation in relation to the alleged sexual assault that was reported to have occurred on Friday, January 11, 2008 at Founders College Residence, York University.

It has been determined that the sexual assault did not occur at York University.


In light of this new information, I realize I entirely forgot to mention the question of flat-out lying or hyperbolizing an encounter out of desperation, the need for attention, and a myriad of motivations that come out of the troubled minds of young women. What's that saying again? Believe none of what you hear, half of what you read? Yea. Case in point, and closed.

The Rower

Two weeks into the new year, the year of my university graduation, and I'm shitting bricks. You know what question I damned sick of? "So, what are you doing when you're done university?" I dunno, what are YOU doing with the rest of your life? Actually, don't answer that, 'cause I need to hear your solid future plans like I need a hole in the head.

I don't know what I want to be when I grow up. That's was barely acceptable when I was in grade 10, and teachers and guidance councillers were making us choose between college and university courses, warning you that "if you don't make the right decisions, you might not get into the program you want in University, and then you won't get a good job, and then you'll be in the wrong career..." like, FUCK, I'm 16!!! Now, 6 years later I still don't have much more of a clue then I did in high school.

And pretty much everyone else I talk to has a step-by-step plan of what they want to be, where they want to go. I know that's not a guarentee for anything for anyone, but at least they got that something to hold on to. I also have no money, pressure for payback of loans, and my mother bitching about my child support ending and not being able to pay the rent. Meaning I got to get a well-paying job, and fast. 700 bucks a month for rent alone don't come easy.

I think I may want to go back to school, get a college degree. That kind of thing is great for media work, or so I hear. But I've had enough stuggle trying to get my deadbeat parents to help me out with school, so its definately not going to happen a second time around. I'd love to travel, but no money. And work? I don't want to get into a dead end job I hate because I made the wrong move when I was desperate for a job coming out of university.

I read in this novel last year, out of the 20 I read in the first semester, I can't remember which one, a metaphor of how humans go through life. It's like the river is our path, and we're rowing toward the end. We're facing backward, seeing our past clearly but rowing into the future blindly. So simple, so cheesy, but damned accurate. I've never felt so rower-like before.

Arg. In the words of the Superbad Beerstore clerk, "Fuck my Life".

Blog Identity

I'm surprisingly chipper and alert after nine hours straight of class, my usually Tuesday schedule, but it may be due to my new commitment to stay healthy, take my supplements, and eat foods generally fresh and unpackaged. So this is what feeling good feels like...in all honesty it probably won't last. Feeling good is exhausting.

We discussed where we are in our portfolio today in my 4304 class, the class that inspired me to start up a new blog, and forcefully stick to it for at least April. So far so good.
We were talking about privacy issues, and how anyone anywhere could access our information, our opinions, our lives. Potential stalker issues, yada yada. Then a lightblub went off in my head ("Cap'n, I think I've had an apostrophe!", "I think you mean 'epiphany'" - Hook), and I realized why that doesn't bother me in the least.

You see, I wouldn't write anything here that I wouldn't say directly to anyone face-to-face. Friend, family, stranger or the like. There are certain things that are meant to be private, or at least said in confidence to a close friend in the confines of your own space. What I love about the medium of the blog is that I'm not imposing my beliefs on anyone who doesn't want to hear them. If you don't like what I say, are offended, or just plain bored, you're doing so on your own accord. Just don't look. And if you are looking, then hey, I must be doing something right. I'm not gonna lie, it's flattering and pleasant to hear friends, acquaintances, and strangers say "hey, loved your blog", or "you're such a good writer", whether or not I think either statement is true (I'm not being modest, I've really never understood why people enjoy my writing so much, especially in the past few days when I've gotten many an essay returned with "it could have been so much more " or "admirable, but much to be corrected". Boo.)

So if anyone wants to track me down after being offended at my comments, or try to piece together who I am through little bits and pieces of fragmented, sporadic postings, go ahead. I'll save you the effort. I'm available for a beer anytime if you really want to get to know me.

DElight

In case you were wondering how I fared since my last post on the dreadful day before my first class of the semester, (and I know you all were holding your breath in painful anticipation,) I totally rocked out with my cock out, and if I had a cock to rock, I totally would.

You know when there's a small group of people, everyone kinda chills amongst each other and gets along. There's no real people who stick out in the group, everyone is kinda equally just there and contributing to whatever goal or topic of conversation is going on. And then a few more people join the group and there's like one or two real cool kids, and then for some reason or another those kids who were an integral part of the previous group totally fade into the background. Yeah. I'm totally that guy.

I've always hated my friday class, mainly for an equal mix of the following reasons:
1. It's Friday
2. It's Modern poetry. Blech.
3. It's full of weird poetry-types that are ironically cool and oh-so-clever

This past Friday, however, only about 40% of the class showed up - the rest either not knowing that our stupid school started in the middle of the first week of the year, or rather deciding to start on the same day as the rest of the normal functioning world. Needless to say, our little group of 12 got on quite well discussing the poetry of Geoffrey Hill (don't worry, I'd never heard of him either), and low and behold, I was listened to by my peers, even asked questions. Hell, I did a coffee run (I don't know how that makes me popular, but it does damn it!). Anyway, next week will go back to normal. My comments will be likely ignored, and I'll be left out of the side-lined conversations about ikea furniture or disney movie plunders. I hate that class.

Anyway, I had a wonderful weekend. I finally got a chance to check out the movie Juno, which was really funny but also really authentic, and could easily pass for a true story. The issue of teen pregnancy was dealt with in a comic but serious manner. Check it out, y'all! I also got to check out an awesome hole-in-the-wall (and horribly placed) bar called Neutral in Kensington Market. It had super 80's retro and current rocky dancey-pop. And it was soooo lovely to hang out with a group of adults and have fun adult conversations (my discussion of a dream I had the previous night about wanting to bang ol' dirty Gene Simmons aside, of course). AND you can't go wrong with 2 dollar shots of jager, bar rails, and beers - with free mix! It almost even contends with Mod Club - GASP, I know. That's almost blasphemous to say...I'll wash my mouth out with some really grade-A Listerine when I'm finished up here.

Anyway, what I love about dirty dance floors with disco balls and spunky brit pop - you can dance any way you like with anyone you like, however you like. And its ok, you're still cool. P.S. you're not going to impress anyone there, so don't worry about trying so hard. Yay!

Lattteees.

Suffering from the EOVBs

As of midnight tonight, it will have been offically 31 days since my last stint in a classroom at York University. 31 glorious days of relaxing, playing video games, eating wayyy too much food and generally being unproductive (minus my few short shifts at work, of course). I woke up this morning (I can honestly say morning, 11:57 am to be exact), and had this strange tingly weight in my chest. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, until a tension spread to my throat and up my serabelum into my brain - "F*CK. I have class tomorrow".

Since a quick google search revealed nothing of the sort, I've decided to put down on the record a name for said type of depression and ill feelings related to the days post-vacation: EOVB, or "End-of-Vacation-Blahs". You probably giggled at that, but I honestly think psychologists and doctors need to take these emotions into consideration. I'm sure you've all felt such feelings of anxeity, despair, dread, and general depression upon returning to work/school/both (as in my case, boo), after a period of "free-time". Personally, the feelings only last a few days, maybe a week or so dependant on the duration of the vacation. But I can imagine that someone already depressed or, even worse, with some sort of mental illness, would be seriously affected by end of vacation depression.

I don't know about you, but as much as I generally enjoy school, I feel like I'm dragging around a ball and chain today. Boo. EOVB for sure.

Resolve to Resolve

So here we are, the first day of 2008. It sure doesn't feel any different than yesterday. The way people make such a big deal out of the new year (although admittedly I'm more a part of the problem than solution), you'd think that you'll wake up in the morning (i.e. mid-afternoon and hungover), and all the sudden you're life is completely different than the night before. Like the year I turned 5, I can remember waking up on the day of my birthday and looking down at my legs under the blankets and shouting to my mom that "WOW my legs are so much longer today!" (true story).

I've never been a big supporter of New Years' resolutions because I don't see a need to wait until a specific date on the calendar to work on an aspect of your life that you admittedly understand needs work. Waiting until January first to fix a problem you noticed in May is ridiculous and also setting yourself up for failure. That being said, I think this year I will travel the well-worn path of the cliche and put into stone some things that I'd like to work on this year. Firstly, I need to stop drinking so much. I don't do drugs, I don't smoke, I don't have any other unhealthy vices, but I do love my beer and my Crown Royals and gingers. Old Blackie (AKA my liver) has a lot of years ahead of him, God willing, and there have been just too many days wasted away in bed and too much money spent on bottles of advil and gravol for my liking. My body and my wallet will thank me.

Secondly, no more McDonalds. Or BK lounge. Or any of those delicious greasy delights. (I already kinda broke that last night after hitting up the Mc D's drive-thru at 4 am for a cheeseburger, but lets strike that from the record.) Cutting back on drinking will definitely help with that, since much of my fast food consumption comes from late-night drunken munchies. Keeping up with the cliche, I need to start working out more. I want to do at least 20 minutes a day every other day. I have a machine I can stick right in front of the television, so I really have no excuse. It's pure laziness, plain and simple. Blame my typical Taurus personality. I do.

Lastly, but definitely not least-ly, I am going to actively work to reduce my ecological footprint. I don't know if any of you have heard of this test, but I know I had to do it several times in high school. You have to answer 16 simple questions about your lifestyle, and then your results are tallied to tell you how many Earths it would take to sustain the human race if everyone in the world lived like you. The results and disgustingly disturbing. I consider myself to be a fairly eco-conscious person. I used only energy efficient light bulbs, take public transit to and from school (as well as the trusty shoe-lace express). I will carry around a plastic or glass bottle for hours until I can find a recycling bin, and I freak out if I see anyone put anything organic in the garbage that can go in the green bin. Despite all this, it would take (prepare yourselves!) 3.4 Earths to sustain a world population of mes'!!

You can take the test for yourself @
http://www.earthday.net/footprint/index_reset.asp?pid=5505029567305942

With that in the back of my mind, I read a book over the holidays entitled "Prophecy" by Sylvia Browne. Yes, she is a psychic, and yes there is no scientific proof to date of her powers and the accuracy of her views, but I can honestly say I read the chapter on the state of the earth over the next hundred years and it literally kept me awake with fear into the wee hours of the morning. Things such as...

--- By 2055 most people will live in domed cities due to poor atmospheric conditions.
--- Acid rain so powerful that specially-made clothing of materials mandatory in all garments
will be created for protecting human skin
--- Eradication of the glaciers. World-wide flooding, and super-heating of the Earth's
atmosphere.
Increased natural disasters often resulting in death and complete distruction of land and
human populations
--- Ozone layer thinning to the point where skin cancer is a regular occurrence, meteors and
space debris that would have once burned up upon entrance in the atmosphere will now
strike Earth's surface, with the potential to wipe out large areas of landmass


Those are some of the predictions I can remember. But there were a whole bunch more, all of which had to do with the Earth's violent reaction to way too many years of mistreatment by humans. She also discussed ancient prophecies of different cultures and religions around the world, all of which speak of a time of plague, warfare, drought and natural disaster. Needless to say, I'm scared shitless. I'm a huge believer in global warming, and I think anyone who still thinks it's a sham is an ignorant, lazy asshole who refuses to accept responsibility for himself and the future of humankind.

There's a video I once saw of a guy who explains global warming and a foolproof plan for combating global warming that both supporters and skeptics (i.e. intelligent, responsible human beings vs. Ignorant, irresponsible assholes) could both agree upon. I couldn't track down the clip again, but the long and short of it was that if we don't act and it's real, we're fooked. Period, game over and you have no marios left. If we do act, and global warming isn't real, we haven't really lost anything and I'm sure the world will be a better place for our efforts. The guy got into the economics and politics of it, but that was the jist of it.

So there you go, a couple of new years resolutions for the start of a new year. If you don't have any yet, please please please, for the sake of yourself and your children and your children's children, take better care of the Earth and make some conscious efforts to avoid biting the hand that feeds you. I'm not looking forward to starving.