2.20.2007

the walls have ears

I have thin walls. So for better or for worse, I hear a lot of my neighbors' goings-on. But I'd rather not.

You see, I know more about one neighbor through my bathroom walls than from in passing in the hallway. I don't know his name, but I think he might be the Incredible Hulk. Either that, or he's the angry-at-city-hall maturbator whom Charlestown comedians the Walsh Brothers once encountered, pants around his ankles across the street from Government Center at 3 a.m. Except normally he's just angry at his bathroom sink for not draining properly. Or maybe he just keeps a loud, angry zombie in his shower.

My other neighbor was uninvited to Christmas dinner at his sister's house and habitually raps his fingers against our shared wall at odd hours of the evening. We've never introduced ourselves, but he frequently appears wherever I am - from Downtown Crossing to one of the local coffeeshops. Maybe he's the zombie from the other guy's shower and my brain is on next week's menu. Maybe that's why his sister uninvited him - she couldn't come up with something appropriate for him to feast on.

Come to think of it, just the other morning I awoke to the two neighbors having a conversation. Unloved-by-his-family guy was telling loud-masturbator guy how he was going to twist a knife into someone's abdomen and bite off his balls. Gee, how pleasant.

But again, I'd rather not know these things. Aside from the fact that it wouldn't surprise me if these men had zombie-mafia ties, it's just not as interesting to hear the sordid details of strangers' lives as it is to know salacious details about friends and acquaintances. And teasing a roommate about his orgasmic bathroom adventures probably has less severe consequences than bringing it up with someone who keeps company with the violent undead.

Also, if I know these things about my neighbors, then surely they have heard my phone conversations with my mom and know when and how often I partake in sexual relations.

Well, if nothing else, maybe they'll at least be able to write an entertaining blog post about it.

2.15.2007

let kids be kids

I think I was born without the gene provides maternal instincts. I'm just not the that into kids. I don't get excited when I see babies. Even as a teenager, I found the idea of babysitting appalling.

But there are too many people out there who don't know themselves well enough to know they either aren't ready for parenting or aren't interested in parenting. And they go ahead and make babies anyway.

Take Michael and Carolyn Riley, who've made headlines for the past couple months after their 4-year-old daughter Rebecca died from a prescription drug overdose. At age 2½, the girl had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder and attention deficit hyperactive disorder. She was prescribed several psychotropic drugs for all these ailments. Her siblings had similar diagnoses and prescriptions.

Kids at that age are just learning to talk. They've just starting walking. Everything they encounter is new and exciting. They have more energy than any of us ancient 20-somethings and beyond. They've probably eaten too much sugar and have already been exposed to our instant-gratification, ADD-inducing media culture.

Of course these kids are hyperactive and have short attention spans. Has our society really forgotten - that's what being a kid is all about. You run around and do crazy and fun things and hurt yourself and eat lots of candy and have not a care in the world.

Family of Rebecca have come forward to say that her parents routinely gave her drugs to sedate her. Preschool workers and other aquaintances described the girl as zombie-like. And the parents, who had a history of run-ins with DSS over abuse and other troubles, seemed to keep "losing" prescriptions for Rebecca and needing them refilled early.

It's just depressing. If the facts that have come out in the news are true, if Michael and Carolyn Riley drugged their kids to get them to shut up and go away, then they really weren't emotionally ready or available to take on the responsibilities of parenting.

I wish more potential parents would take a serious look at themselves and honestly answer whether or not they are financially and emotionally ready to take care of a child, to put someone else's needs above their own self-interests. And if the answer is "no," that they find something else in the world that is fulfilling for them. There's nothing wrong with that.

2.14.2007

vile day

If there's reason to hate Valentine's day, surely it's due to the women who peddle gendered crap. Take, for instance, a story titled "Cracking the Cupid Code" in today's Boston Globe. Monique Doyle Spencer clues us in on how "women" see Valentine's Day:

[W]omen use V-Day as the crystal ball of your fate. They peer into it and look for the Three Signs of Your Doom. First, the gift you give is gravely less expensive than the one you were given. Second, your gift is not wrapped. Third, you give an Idiot gift. My own husband gave me a duplicate pair of cheap earrings I already have "because you like them so much."

She also gives us such gems as:

If you send her a dozen roses, be sure to send them to her workplace. Making her female coworkers feel bad will delight her.

and

Do not, under any circumstances, put any gift in a ring-shaped box. Even if you buy her the biggest diamond earrings in the solar system, you must still remove them from their ring-like box. Otherwise, you will hear the words Y-E-S, Y-E-N-T-A, A-I-S-L-E, and V-E-I-L. Avoid taking her to N-E-V-A-D-A for the same reason.

Ugh. this is supposed to be humorous, but it's just nauseating. Spencer then proceeds to advise against shopping at Victoria's Secret unless you're at least engaged (huh?), but says you still have to give a "romantic" gift if you give lingerie, like a book of poetry.

Folks, not all women delight in romance novel trash, being petty and making others jealous. All this after an oh-so-enlightening story yesterday ("Hooking Up Is the Rage, But Is It Healthy?") about how hooking up is bad for girls because they are more emotionally attached to sex than guys (that story also would have you believe that the hook-up trend is so prevalent that no one young has relationships, yet the only people interviewed are two women in *gasp* relationships).

Oh, Globe, you really don't know what the kids are up to these days, do you?

Anyhow, more power to people who enjoyed a happy, sappy day, today or any other day, regardless of gender (I'm so sending flowers, giving lingerie and putting something in a ring-like box for some boy next year). But me, I'd prefer a pleasant surprise any other day of the year. At least tomorrow brings the joys of half-price chocolates. Mmm, chocolate.