I am Jack’s personal space

America is a funny place to live.

If you don’t believe me, just go to your local theme park or strip mall and people-watch for a few hours. (Bring a lawn chair and some popcorn…it’s solid summer entertainment).

One of the first things you’ll notice is how many of them there are. No matter what you do or where you go (unless you choose a meeting of Agoraphobics Anonymous, in which case you can take your overdeveloped sense of irony and stick it in your ear……ironically) you’ll probably find that people are like ants in your house during rainy seasons. They pour in from entrances you didn’t know existed and sort of aimlessly mill about, latching on to food sources and occasionally hoisting their dead comrades above their heads to cart back to the hill.

Like those six-legged trollops, however, people will exhibit one dominant and peculiar behavior when in crowds. They don’t want to be touched. The only scenario in the world outside of the Catholic church before Mardi Gras (future debauchers storing up grace!) where they will, with absolute certainty, be bumped, nudged, jostled, or–heaven help us–breathed on in passing…and they insist on The Bubble.

The Bubble is an extraordinary marvel of the scientific world. From person to person, it varies in radius, quality of soundproofing, and defense mechanisms. Some are thin, easily subverted, and made of a fuzzy pink aura that leaves the infringer with a slight humming sound in their head and the barely concealed desire to cuddle puppies. Others are vast, inexplicably cause hives, and emit a high-pitched squealing noise like rats in a noodle maker. The one universal constant among the bubble boys and girls of America, however, is that there are certain rules of etiquette one must follow. For time’s sake, we’ll narrow it to three.

1. The Line Bubble. It’s a statistical fact (no, it’s not) that Americans spend at least 30% of their life span waiting in lines. It’s also a statistical fact (I’m lying) that 1 in 4 Americans will, at some point, deck the person waiting behind them. The motives vary from reaching around to grab the little partition bar, to allowing one’s biological monster-baby to flick Tic-Tacs into someone else’s hair…but most experts agree that the main cause of Express Lane violence is the fact that the person was standing too close. You know that feeling–when you don’t want to turn and look, but your hackles rise with the knowledge that the person behind you is looming so close that your ponytail could take out an eye. Oh, yeah. Don’t be ashamed. Anyone would like to get in a good swing, or at least a well-placed “do you MIND?”

2. The P.T. Bubble. This applies to all public transportation in which seating is a matter of free will. As my enlightened Sith Lord of a Chemistry professor told me freshman year, people operate under the same law that electrons and electron levels do. In a bank of open seat pairs on a typical bus, people will file on and fill in one of the two seats in every row before being forced to sit next to someone. I understand this sentiment. When I am on the bus, sohelpmeGOD if you sit next to me when there are open seats elsewhere I will pretend to have rabies and gnaw on my own arm. People don’t stick around when you gnaw on your arm. Conclusion–public transportation operates under bubble etiquette, and my professor is still the Sith.

3. The Conversation Bubble. Not to be confused with the speech bubble, that minute area of white space too often filled with inane monologuing in the daily paper’s comics, this refers to the unspoken buffer zone that should stand between you and the person you happen to be talking with. If you ever notice someone attempting to lean back inconspicuously while you’re blabbing, chances are one of two things are true. One, your breath reminds them of bad dreams, or two…you’re too close for comfort. Another telling indicator that you’re not observing the laws of conversation bubble? The fact that their eyes are unfocused and seem to be trying to siphon your brain out through the bridge of your nose. At that range, you probably look like a large, fuzzy replica of something that might have been human once.

There really are very few acceptable reasons for the invasion of personal space. If you are a) dating, b) best friends/kissing cousins/people who like hugs, or c) saving someone from imminent death through the cunning use of massage therapy……by all means. Other than that, not a chance.

Welcome to America–land of the free, home of the spaciously-inclined. Oh, and please step back about 8 inches. You’re in my bubble.

Man vs. Vicious Incline

At the very top of Bruinwalk, just past the intersection that takes you from the safety of the dorms to the campus wilderness, resides a formidable foe. It has many names–”Hill of Doom,” “Hell Hill,” or simply “THE HILL” (not to be confused with The Hill, where the dorms are)–and it leers at passing students, daring them to try their luck. There is one problem. Unless you enjoy the privilege of being a member of the theatre majors’ avant-garde, Charles-E.-Young-walking circle, chances are THE HILL is the fastest way to get to class. So, you pop in your earphones and venture forth….

 

WRONG.

 

THE HILL has many ways of making you pay for your insolence.

1. The steepness of THE HILL is primed for idiots. You’ll recognize them. They’re the ones careening down it on skateboards and scooters. You might also recognize the stain at the bottom of THE HILL where the last unsuspecting soul lost a few teeth after getting sidelined by a passing cyclist. (No joke!)

2. You could be Michael Phelps, Lance Armstrong, or the next Iron Man contestant…..your thighs will still beg for mercy. Never fear! It’ll still feel that way no matter how many days you spend on the Stairmaster. Embrace life’s comforting certainties. 

3. THE HILL is separated from the track stadium by a large bank of trees. Watch for UCLA’s monstrous spiders, who like to build scale models of the Taj Mahal right in front of your face. Also, there will frequently be gunshots coming from the track. Pay no heed.

4. The entirety of the prolific squirrel population hides in the nearby trashcans. They’re usually quite harmless, and have even been known to post videos on Youtube, but don’t stick your hand in, regardless of the fact that you accidentally threw away your cell phone with your leftover bagel. Consider it a donation.

 

In all seriousness, the most dangerous parts really are the cyclists and skateboarders. Wait until the bottom of the hill before turning on your iPod. And enjoy the walk! It gives you a great view of the campus. Just don’t underestimate how long it will take you to get there.

Coffee with a shot of sugar-free AWESOME

I drink coffee. And by “drink,” I mean “receive intravenously,” and by “coffee,” I mean “coffee.” A lot of coffee. I can date the beginning of this torrid love affair from the first college paper I had to write. So…really from the morning of the due date of my first college paper. When in college, someone will inevitably inform you, once it’s far too late, of the highly addictive nature of caffeine–something you’ve known all your life and ignored completely. What they won’t tell you is that coffee can be your pathway to greatness.

Here’s an entirely truthful look at some of the world’s most fabulous people, who were undoubtedly addicted to coffee:

William Shakespeare, sometime author–before becoming the Bard of Avon, Billy Shakes worked as a barista at his local Starrbuckes. When he made less than desirable profits off of tips, he tried his hand at playwrighting. All that practice writing spunky chalkboard messages advertising the “drinke of the monthe” paid off quite nicely.

Macbeth, V.i. “Out, damned spot!”–explicitly refers to the tenacity of coffee when it soaks into a light fabric. Shakespeare was obviously very familiar with stain removers, as seen by his ironic portrayal of Lady Macbeth, who seems to think that “a little water” is all it takes. Silly woman. Next time…bleach cycle.

Rene Descartes, philosopher and hairier-than-normal Frenchman–according to Wikipedia, the source from which I glean any important and highly researched information, he is often called “The Father of Modern Philosophy,” responsible for giving us the famous, “Je pense donc je suis.” (In English, “I think, therefore I am”). Early manuscripts, however,  show this to be a translation error from the original Latin. In its most accurate form, the saying runs, “I drink, therefore I am.” By all popular accounts, Descartes was no booze hound, so that–combined with his duties as an early morning teacher in Sweden–points to a distinct java bias.

Charon, Hades’ gondolier–in most Greek mythology, the ferryman responsible for transporting ye old sinners across the river Styx is noted as being the possessor of a fine pair of fierce, flashing eyes. His name, in fact, is reported to have come from a noun meaning “of keen gaze.” Taking into account the reasons most people drink coffee (sleep deprivation) and the fact that transporting the damned is probably not just a 9 to 5 job (more than 6 billion corrupt, baby), it can be assumed that Charon’s “keen gaze” and bloodshot eyes are indications of an espresso habit. Also, the obolus, a coin used ostensibly to pay for a soul’s passage, just happened to be the price of one of Zeus’s famous Lightning Cappuccinos. Coincidence? Hardly.

Jesus Christ, sackcloth salesman–do I even need to say it? How many times did he turn water to wine? Do you realize how much easier it would be to make coffee from mud? He probably took one look at his disciples and thought, “Complain, complain, complain. Mochas for all. Boom. Now shut up and enjoy your ‘tall’ while I rock a ‘venti’. Hey…I’m God, beezies.”

No beans about it…coffee=greatness.

However, some of you may have trouble experiencing the link to these magnificent, albeit dead and/or mythological, addicts. If that is you, do not despair! There is a way for you to sit down with intelligence, experience, and eloquence at your local java joint.

1. Befriend those people in your life whom you think are only there to talk at you–professors, teachers, mentors, other people’s parents, etc. Eventually you will come to find that they do not, in fact, sleep in coffins during the day and speak only in proverbs or platitudes. They are…wait for it…people. And chances are they have a lot going on in their heads that’s worth mentioning, once you get them going. Trust me. You’ll avoid a lot of grief by hearing about someone else’s screw-ups.

2. Realize that most cafes offer a variety of teas as well as coffees. Take your friends, choose a selection of coffee and non-coffee drinks according to individual tastes, and commandeer a bunch of the chairs for the entire day. Ignore the employees who glare at you. They’re just jealous because they smell like diluted coffee-water and wear stupid visors while you relax in caffeinated comfort. Again, trust me. Your friends are a fantastic source of greatness, even if none of you see it yet. Listen to each other, and then reconvene when you’ve all lived a little. You’ll be surprised.

3. Recognize your own potential. “Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them” (Malvolio, Twelfth Night). Grab a cup, sit outside, and marvel at how much you can do in the world when you’re juiced by delicious flavor and awesomeness.