i’m not there. (on pinterest)

Since I am in advertising and media and such, I recognize it is not good to say I am not a fan of some social media trend that has become all the rage. I should be up to date and current and (for lack of a better term) balls-deep in all social media both present and future. BUT I HATE PINTEREST.

The Most Un-Pinteresting Pinterest to ever Pin the Internet

Hate is perhaps a strong word. I don’t mind Pinterest in a lot of respects, it is really nice to look at and it does seem to be making people in general more creative.  But I certainly have deemed it a waste of my time.

I think this is because from my beginnings as a magazine hoarding youth, I have always done what Pinterest seeks to do, which is collect things I find as memorable or inspirational. I have tomes of magazines, shoe boxes of cut outs, albums of photos and advertisements, and walls full of fashions and arts and ideas that make me feel individual and inspired every day. I never needed the computer for that, and I still don’t. There may be a huge push to put our lives online and share ourselves with each other, but I never needed to share these things with anyone other than perhaps a friend or two who came over and checked out which awkward looking tattooed boy or weird bird drawing was on my wall at the time. (My room is in a constant state of redecoration, thanks to my unceasing adult angst). In fact, these collections or “boards” are the one thing I do that I do for myself and I don’t want to share with anybody. So there. I said it. I hate Pinterest.

Perhaps I will be a pack-rat until I die, but when you see my on Hoarders, just notice how terribly adorable, artsy, unique, or delicious everything they have to carry out of my house looks.


Yet another reason for me to skip my wine tasting class tonight

Yet another reason for me to skip my wine tasting class tonight

Since I am too busy for actual pets, I consider wine to be my best friend. It keeps me company on every occasion: a constant and predictable companion. I am even taking a wine class that starts tonight. However, if this article is true and the minute I start learning things about wine I am going to need to start buying $50 bottles of Klinkerbrink instead of 3 buck chuck…..I may just have to ditch this idea and whine instead.

StarShuttle, or These Headphones Mean I’m Not Listening To You

The StarShuttle is the only bus I ride, and, as far as I am concerned, the only bus worth riding. It is the cute little StarTran bus numbered 55 that runs down to 11th street, then through the Haymarket (although I have only seen 2 people get off or on there in 3 years), then around the other side of the capital before stopping nicely in front of the City Union. The Star Shuttle route is short (24 minutes), convenient, and uncomplicated, and I enjoy it very much.

But then other people get on.

There are two distinct groups of people who ride the StarShuttle: students trying to get their shit together (people like me) and adults who never got their shit together (people who like to talk to me). There are some exceptions of course; every so often I see a businessman or woman riding back to their office on a particularly wet day, and of course I don’t mean to insult the disabled to use the bus as their primary mode of transportation. I actually don’t really want to insult anybody.

So why, StarShuttle people, do you make it so hard?

The cast of characters I see regularly aboard the StarShuttle are as follows:

Pink Lipstick Lady:  A woman who looks like a cross between muppets Janice and Miss Piggy in both appearance and makeup. She seems nice enough and never bothers anyone, but her lipstick is such a fluorescent pink I cannot help but stare at her until she exits at the library.

Blind Guy with Denim Backpack: This guy kicks ass. I don’t even mind when he accidentally bumps me with his cane. I see him at Russ’s market all the time buying beer, and then he walks home by himself. LIKE A BOSS. I just wanted to give him a shout out here. Blind Guy with Denim Backpack, you are one cool dude.

These two guys I once saw get in a fight over a can of JOOSE at 2 o’clock in the afternoon: The man with the can (clearly the victor) was jumping on and off the bus trying to hide from another man who was JOOSE-less. The JOOSE-less man was doing a lot of yelling and chasing, but the bus driver was more concerned that these gentlemen were going to make him late for the next stop rather than they were running around with an open container on a moving bus. Frankly all us passengers were too.But I see the two boys together all the time now. They get a long swell as long as JOOSE isn’t involved.

Silly Rabbit, JOOSE doesn't even have caffeine in it anymore!

The obligatory near-South-living, stocking cap wearing, Vice magazine reading English/Poly-Sci double major.

A group of Asians who eat more bread from the Mexican market than I’ve ever seen in my life.

A man who claims everyone smells like cornbread (and you can’t think this is a racist stereotype IF IT IS TRUE.)

Phil Willet: one of the ad professors. He is in the habit of telling you everything you do isn’t good enough, and I am sure that is not limited to advertising. I swear if he tells me my choice of seat on the bus is “sub par” or “un-original” I will sic Blind Guy with Denim Backpack on him.

Daryl– a man who has a slight case of down syndrome and works at davinci’s overnight. I met him while working at the mall. He is a fun person to talk to and he loves to give hugs, which I accept, even though he has sores all over his hands.

Afternoon Juggalos: Unfortunately, the time has passed for me to ask this brand of bus rider if they believe in “miracles”, which is probably for the best because if I got too close I am afraid I would get lost in their pant legs and hoodies and freedom of expression. Regardless, they exist in strong numbers on the StarShuttle, particularly between the hours of 3 and 4 pm.

I think that will be all the stereotypes I will use and assumptions I will make about strangers for today. I guess the point of this is to indulge my morning routine into a breakdown of the people I stare at uncomfortably inbetween checking the tweets.

Happy Monday!