OMG I'm a f**king HIPSTER!

Since when am I a f**king hipster?! I'm absolutely shocked yet at the same time suddenly feel the urge to buy a bike.

While planning the holiday campaign for Old Navy I decided I'd play around for a minute on one of the sites we RFP'd. While there I took one of their personality quizzes which helps define the type of person you're shopping for and suggests gifts. I decided I would be shopping for myself and see what the quiz thought I'd like.

After answering a series of questions it ends up I'm a freakin' hipster. I am a little discouraged to say the least. When did I suddenly develop an interest in spiking my hair, wearing chucks (all the time) and participating in critical mass? (hipster nerds... *shakes her head*).


I know I have some hipster inclinations:

• I sometimes where chucks
• I like Zeitgeist on sunny days
• I used to roll one pant leg when I was in high school...for about a week
• I have owned a bike
  
• I once tried to wear glasses instead of contacts
• I have an iPhone
• I work in interactive advertising in San Francisco
• Katie often makes me listen to indie rock
  
• I use to travel around with my family and sing in different churches on Sundays...kinda like a band
• I want a tattoo
• I'm going to a neon party on Saturday night

I don't know though, somehow I still feel screwed over by this quiz. Some of the questions really weren't an easy answer.

For example:

Um if you know me, you know I like both.

Um neither...and who is this gang??...

Everyone knows the farmer's market starts too early for me to roll my ass out of bed...and who the hell are these kids?!...

So what? non-hipsters don't like to read? And what if there isn't a lake with rocks nearby to climb on huh?!

Totally rigged. So now because of the lack of imagination from Gifts.com, I'm a hipster. Apparently I'm going to have to get a lock necklace now... SoaB!!

Are you kidding me?!

So this weekend I went for a weekend of spaing at The Fairmont's Sonoma Mission Inn & Spa. I of course have one of my wonderful publishers to thank for the weekend as I never could have afforded it myself (one of the many perks of working in media).

We arrived on Friday night and had dinner with our west coast reps and the rest of the guests. Erica (my old boss & now good friend) & I turned in early as we both saw the weekend as a chance to relax for once since we were away from the hustle&bustle that is our lives in San Francisco. The next day we had our day at the spa. I got myself a mud wrap which I have always wanted to try. The treatment consisted of a mud wrap for 40 mins, then a hot bubble bath and finally a 30 minute massage. I can definitely understand the concept of spaing but honestly I didn't feel much different afterwards...at least not $200 worth of relaxed. Now that could be because spaing for a day can't reverse the effects of 6 months of drinking, long work hours and post-midnight bedtimes. It could also be because I spent my hour and a half talking politics with my massuse (I have a problem with the whole idea of "relaxing" when someone else is either lurking in the room or rubbing my leg). In spite of not feeling as relaxed as those who seemed drunk when they exited their rooms, it was a nice experience.

The rest of the afternoon Erica & I enjoyed the spas, saunas and pools the resort offered. While tanning by the pool we decided to grab some snacks and I developed a mad craving for a pina colada. Unfortunately the spa cafe only offered beer and wine, so my only option through which to obtain a pina colada was to order it via room service and have it delivered to the pool. Even though the receptionist told me there was a chance delivery could take "up to 45 minutes" I figured it was worth it seeing a wheat grass shake probably wouldn't kick the craving.

40 minutes later my pina colada arrived. The server handed me the check and I almost choked on the french fry I was chewing when I opened the book. I quickly signed and handed it back trying not to show my astonishment and hoping that he would exit stage left quickly after flashing his resort-style smile. Once gone I looked at Erica, "Guess how much...". She actually guessed right. Can you?


Nevermind, I'll just show you...



I mean, seriously??! Do you see all those freakin' fees? And then 20% gratuity? I will say the pina colada was the best I've had, but it's wasn't $18 worth of good. Lordy. I just don't get why everything has to be so expensive when you're at an expensive hotel. I mean I understand high priced rooms but why does everything else have to cost double? It's like if you're rich you're supposed to be okay with getting hosed. It's like just because you have a lot of money in your bank account you shouldn't care that you're getting charged $10 for a piece of toast.

Someday I want to be able to afford as many $18 pina coladas as I like, but I don't want to find myself thinking it's okay to charge $18 for it. It's not. It's ridiculous. As much as I love the spa and the luxury of 5 star resorts, and as much as I know I have the desire to live like the "rich and famous", I don't want to end up with the mentality of the "rich and famous". Unfortunately if I accomplish this I will be adorned with that oh so famous title often tossed around by skilled staff in the backrooms of all high-end resorts: "cheapskate". The exact term which probably popped into the mind of the server when he saw my face as I read the bill and when he noticed I hadn't tipped anything above the 20% that had already been included.



But man was that pina colada good...

My "Reason for the Rainbow" Mission

What's with bus seats that have rainbow patterns? It's not bad enough that you're stuck like cattle on a tour bus that makes you car sick as it maneuvers windy roads at a snail's pace, they feel the need to enhance the experience with a rainbow colored theme which could have been created by someone throwing up 5 bags of Skittles all over your seat and the surrounding walls.




The greatest part about this is that it's a world wide phenomenon. I mean does one company really have a complete monopoly of the tour bus upholstery industry??!


I'm going to have to investigate.

I can't wait until this passes...

The Stripper and the Confederate Flag

This weekend I was talking to some friends of the male nature and they were laughing about a comment they had recently heard while on one of their many oh-so classy late night romps in one of SF's finest strip clubs. From what I can piece together from what they managed to piece together, one of them said something blatantly rude to one of the strippers. Her response (and the line they thought was the funniest thing they had heard in a while) was:

"I'm not a prostitute. I'm a stripper."

I don't think I would have ever really found their story and the resulting comment funny but now that I know a few people who were at once in their lives strippers I definitely have a better understanding of the culture and thus a stronger revulsion to the boy'z* resulting laughter.

My very basic understanding of the stripper world tells me that there are many types of women who have arrived there for many different reasons. Some needed money, some just wanted to try it and some were looking for a much deeper sense of empowerment by butting up against established cultural beliefs head on. I'm sure every woman has a different reason but those are the basic reasons that come off the top of my head...a head that has never been a stripper, so take it as you will.

I felt the urge to ask my boyish buddies why they felt the statement was so hilarious yet resisted realizing that a dose of reality would not be appreciated, let alone noticed in their drunken haze and as a subtle form of protest refused to participate in the laughter.

For me there is a distinct line between being a stripper and a prostitute, yet for most there is little to no distinction. This was one of those many moment where I saw how often our cultural understandings override every argument regardless of the degree of logic involved in it's development. In some ways it's comparable to how people think of the confederate flag. For some it's a symbol of oppression and hatred, for others it simply hints to our nations past, and for a few it purely represents regional pride. For me it is a symbol of a time in our past that we should never glorify and it doesn't matter how people argue their "innocent" reasons for still flying the flag I still choose to steer clear of them like the plague...and you know I'm probably right when I say I'm sure they don't mind that one bit.

My point is that there are often cultural ideas that are so strong they may never change. Yes we can make our efforts to raise awareness and pass knowledge, but with some things people are fighting the change too much for the movement to make any ground. With the confederate flag I refuse to allow it's connotations change. I want it to serve as a reminder of racial oppression forever and I'm okay with knowing that by doing this I'm not allowing others to carry on their traditions or use it to freely represent their love of Lynyard Skynyard. The same goes for many people's (specifically men in this case) opinions of strippers. They see them as women who are there to serve them. Whether they dance for them or sleep with them they are there for the man's pleasure and use. As a result most of those who often step foot in a strip club will never think there is a strong distinction between a stripper and a prostitute...at least not until they sit down and have a conversation with someone who believes there is a difference and even then, much like myself and my feelings about the confederate flag, it probably won't change a thing.





* I often use the term "boyz" instead of "boys" or "men" when I feel they have acted in a troublesome fashion. Be that hilarious drunkenness or dumping me.