UPS Update

UPS finally gets it right:


Date:  February 14, 2012
From:  twitter@ups.com
To:  me
Subject:  Re:  A bad customer service experience

Dear Catherine,

Thank you for your feedback. I apologize that the Change Request options were not clearly outlined on our website. I appreciate your taking the time to bring this to my attention. E-mails such as yours help us to identify areas that need improvement.

Best regards,

[REDACTED]
UPS Corporate Social Media Team
twitter@ups.com

UPS RAGE

I shouldn't be as mad as I am at this situation, and it's taken up more time than it should.  The background is that a package I'd been expecting ended up being returned to Amazon.  After some research, I discovered that this was due to a mistake I'd made, but I was unhappy with my interactions with UPS and tweeted about it.  UPS tweeted back, asking me to send them an e-mail explaining that situation.  Here's that exchange:

Date:  February 13, 2012
From:  me
To:  twitter@ups.com
Re:  Bad customer service experience


Hi there,

I'm redisbest on Twitter.  I'm an Amazon Prime member, which means that I usually get my orders from Amazon within two business days.  As you probably know, these orders usually come via UPS.  I also travel a lot for work, so I signed up for My UPS to avoid having packages sitting in front of the house for days on end.

I ordered a book in January from Amazon that was not immediately available for shipping.  When Amazon did ship the book, I received notice from My UPS that it was scheduled to arrive on a date when I wouldn't be home (I was away from January 28-February 6), so I used My UPS to have the package held at the UPS facility, not realizing that I only had 5 business days to pick it up or that the facility wasn't open on the weekend.  According to the record on the website, this was on February 2.  

I got the flu shortly after arriving back home, so on February 9, I went back on My UPS and paid the $5 to have the package redelivered to my house today, February 13.  UPS delivered a different package today, but only the one, so I logged onto My UPS to see what the status of the other package was (Infotrack # 1ZA50W290245050057).

That's when I saw that my direction from the morning of February 9 to have the package redelivered was "overridden" later that same day, and the package was being returned to Amazon.  When I clicked on the new tracking number, I saw that the book was already back in Pennsylvania.

Amazon's policy is to issue a refund if a package is returned; they claim not to have the ability to resend the package to the customer.  I called the 800 number for UPS and talked to a very nice woman who couldn't tell from the record exactly what happened but who did reassure me that I hadn't been charged $5.  She took some information from me and said that someone from the Mesquite facility would be calling me within the hour.

The woman who called from the Mesquite facility told me the following things:  UPS will only hold a package for 5 business days, and then after that, UPS's policy is to send the package back to the shipper.  She then told me that despite what it said on the record on My UPS, I asked for the package to be held on February 1, not February 2, so that when I logged back onto My UPS on February 9 to have my package redelivered, I was already past the 5 business day mark.  In addition, she told me that nobody "overrode" my instruction; instead, the clerk just entered my package into the system to be returned to the shipper, in accordance with UPS policy, which had the effect of IGNORING my instruction, but not OVERRIDING it, and in the end, her basic message was that it was my fault that the package went back to Amazon.

I don't dispute that it was my fault that the package went back to Amazon.  I am unhappy, though, that the record in My UPS is so unreliable with respect to the dates (February 1 v. February 2).  I am unhappy that My UPS indicated that my package was still eligible to be redirected.  I am unhappy that My UPS was happy to take my credit card number to redeliver my package.  I am unhappy that My UPS confirmed redelivery and changed the record on the tracking information to indicate that the package would be redelivered on February 13.  I am unhappy that while UPS will hold a package at a facility for slightly longer than 5 business days, it will not accept a change in delivery option during the last few hours the package is there and before the package has been sent out to be returned to the shipper, but it hasn't taken measures to indicate so in the only tool that its customers have available.

At this point, I don't know what remedy UPS could offer me.  The package has been delivered to Amazon, so I'll get a refund from them.  I didn't pay for shipping because I'm an Amazon Prime member, so there's no shipping cost to be reimbursed.  I was told by the first woman I spoke with that the $5 charge probably didn't even hit my credit card.  I don't intend to reorder the product from Amazon because of this experience; I'll got to a bricks and mortar bookstore in my area to find the book I need.

It would be nice, though, if you fixed the problem with the quality of information on My UPS and the information that gets entered into Infotrack on your website.  If any of the information that I had to begin with had been correct, I wouldn't have had to spend any time calling your 800 number (which is a frustrating experience all on its own), and I wouldn't have had to speak with the slightly condescending, not at all helpful woman at the Mesquite, TX UPS facility.  If the information on My UPS had been correct, I would have called Amazon, found out that the package was lost to me, and been happy with my refund from them.  Instead, I've decided that the present that I need to send to my friend in Singapore will not be going via UPS but by another shipping company.

Anyway, thanks for letting me tell you what happened, and I hope you get the problem fixed on the website.  I appreciate your willingness to help, even if there's nothing to be done.

Best regards,

Catherine

All I needed here was, "So sorry to hear about your bad experience, Ms. Choe.  We'll let the IT team know about the defects in information shared with customers so it doesn't happen to someone else."  Here's what I got instead:


Date:  February 14, 2012
From:  twitter@ups.com
To:  me
Subject:  Re:  Bad customer service experience

Dear Catherine,

Thank you for sending in your e-mail. The Will Call requests available through UPS My Choice are for the initial hold request. As your request was an extension of the original hold, you would need to contact us by phone or by reaching out by e-mail to work out the arrangements with the local delivery office. I would be more than happy to refund the $5 charge billed. Will you please supply the exact amount billed, reference number listed on your credit card statement, and date listed so that I can process the refund? It’s the least that I could do since the information was not clearly explained.

Best regards,

[REDACTED]
UPS Corporate Social Media Team
twitter@ups.com

So not only no token apology, but a reiteration of how I screwed up.  Plus -- the offer to refund the $5 charge, which is not at issue.  This inflamed me, and not in the way you want to be inflamed on Valentine's Day:

Date:  February 14, 2012

From:  me

To:  twitter@ups.com

Subject:  Re:  Bad customer service experience

Dear [REDACTED],

Most of what you wrote below is not made clear on your website.  The status of my second request to redeliver to the house as an extension of the original hold would have been helpful but was not explained.  The fact that this extension would not be permitted also would have been helpful but was not explained.

If there was a charge on my credit card, I will reply to you with the appropriate information, but my understanding is that there wasn't one (which should also be your understanding after reading my e-mail).

Truthfully, at this point, it would be worth $5 to me never to have to deal with UPS again.  I took time out of my day to find out that I made a mistake in dealing with UPS's website, then compounded that mistake by informing UPS that I was unhappy with its service.  You took the time out of your day to find out more about my experience.  I then spent another chunk of time writing out what happened to me in detail.  What I've received back from you is a small variation of what I heard from UPS's other customer service representatives:  it's not UPS's fault.  

It's true that the package's return to Amazon was not UPS's fault; it was mine.  It is completely maddening to keep hearing it from UPS, though, especially when what I wanted from UPS was not a refund but some sort of acknowledgment that the systems you have designed to help customers manage their deliveries do not convey accurate information.  Instead of making me feel more warmth toward UPS, your reply regrettably makes me dislike your company even more.

Best regards,

Catherine

I get that it's petty to write about this on a blog that nobody reads, and I lost even more minutes in dealing with this, but I feel better now.  Man, UPS sucks.

June 10: Have you ever drastically changed your opinion of an author as you read their book? Become a fan? Lost your fan status?

When I was recovering from surgery several years ago, a couple of friends bought me a book by Marian Keyes, who is now one of my favorites.  I try to read everything she writes.  Her books are interesting in that you'll go along, thinking that you're reading something light and funny, and then WHAMMO all of a sudden, the plot gets darker, and loose ends that you didn't know were loose get tied up and plot points that you didn't know were plot points get brought together in a very satisfying way.  You'll laugh, then cry, then laugh and cry.  I love her. 

When I saw on the cover of P.S. I Love You that a reviewer had likened Cecelia Ahern to Marian Keyes, I bought the book.  I don't know what the hell that reviewer was thinking, because the book was AWFUL.  The only thing that Ms. Ahern and Ms. Keyes have in common is that they're Irish, which connotes many things but does not guarantee writing talent.  I don't know what editors do, but they must not do what I thought they did, because this book was so disorganized and had so many weirdly and awkwardly constructed sentences that I spent most of the time spent reading the book feeling really frustrated.  I'll give her props for not sticking to a tired, romance novel formula, but the mess that was left was unpleasant to read.  It's been YEARS since I read this book, and I'm still angry that I lost 2 hours reading it.

So I guess the answers to the prompt are yes, yes, and yes.  See you tomorrow.  If I remember.  Sigh.

June 9: Damn it

So I missed June 9, obviously, since we're almost 30 minutes past midnight.  In my defense, I went to the Blogher site, and the prompt was kind of dumb, something about whether there's an actor or actress I'm a fan of and so I watch everything they're in.  Does anyone want to read about that?  If so, I can think about it and come up with an entry.

I'm going to keep this short and hope that the prompt for June 10 is better.  I've been highly annoyed by two Facebook friends, and I made myself feel better by deleting their unnecessary comments.  I like comments and commenting as much as the next person, but if you try to make my Facebook page all about you, or you try to use my Facebook page to further your very obvious agenda, I'm going to be super annoyed, and I'm either going to put you on Limited Profile, or I'm just going to delete the comments that irritate me most.  Today, that turned out to be most of them.  Aaaahhhhh.

June 8: What are you not a fan of?

OH, MY GOD -- HAVE YOU MET ME???  I am not a fan of people, crowds, amateur travelers, cilantro, celery, narcissists, people who treat me like I'm stupid -- SO MANY THINGS.

I'm currently waiting for my flight in the Red Carpet Club in the international terminal of SFO.  I'm not going overseas, just going home, but for some reason, my flight here and my flight home are both using this terminal.  I have no complaints.  I had a lovely glass of sauvignon blanc, snacked on a lot of veggies and ranch, consumed an embarrassing amount of cheese, and made a tiny bit of progress on a deliverable.  I also booked a hotel room and figured out a meeting place for a client meeting.  I wasn't as productive as I wanted to be, but I was still productive, damnit.

Anyway, one of the things I love most about the Red Carpet Club (or any airline lounge, really) is that nearly everyone here is an experienced traveler.  That means that there's a lot less jostling and clueless entitlement here than there is in the rest of the airport.  (Experienced travelers are entitled, but not cluelessly so.)  People here don't have more baggage than they're supposed to, and they tend to comport themselves like people who have grown up and lived in a civilized society.  There are a couple of exceptions at the bar right now, but you can't blame a couple of drunk ladies who are watching their hockey team in the NHL finals.

The one thing you do have to watch out for that's kind of a universal problem is people talking on their cell phones like they are at home in private.  What the heck is that?  It's like once their call connects, they go blind.  Or they think that the rest of us become blind and deaf.  Just because we are politely ignoring your ridiculous conversation does not mean that we're not listening and JUDGING you.  Because we totally are.  Totally.

One time I was on the Acela headed back to DC from NYC, and I got to hear a recap of someone's therapy session.  This person was chatting with a friend and recapping her last therapy session.  On the train.  Which is in public.  And you all wonder why I hate people and seek out the quiet car.

So yes.  I'm not a fan of people when they forget that we're all part of a larger civilization, and while you may not agree with the rules or you may think that you're super special and the rules don't apply to you, IT DOESN'T MATTER BECAUSE THE RULES ALWAYS APPLY.

And now I have to run away from the drunk hockey fans.  See you tomorrow.

June 7: Are you the fan of a certain brand?

THE fan?  I don't know if I could be called the number one fan of any brand.  I'm certainly A fan of many.  I think all you're going to get out of this post is a list of products.  Sneaky way of advertising, Blogher.  We all have our favorites:

Toothpaste:  Crest
Face wash:  Cetaphil and Bliss
Toothbrush:  Oral-B
Sunscreen:  Neutrogena
Makeup:  Bare Minerals
Toilet paper:  Northern
Paper towels:  Bounty
Dishwashing liquid:  Ivory or Dawn
Dishwasher detergent:  Cascade
Laundry detergent:  Tide

It's strange that it took me less than 60 seconds to name all those brands.  I read an article once that said that brand loyalty comes from childhood, that people will be loyal to the brands their parents used.  That's definitely true for me when it comes to toothpaste, toilet paper, dishwashing liquid, and laundry detergent.  When I was growing up, the brands you see up there were the products we used.  My mother is a lot less loyal now and pretty much buys what she has a coupon for or whatever is offering the best deal.  We're using Palmolive dish soap right now, and I hate it.  It does a really good job of lathering into lots of happy suds that seem to disappear instantly. 

I know people who are absolute slaves to luxury fashion brands -- they must have Louboutin shoes or the latest Louis Vuitton bag.  I've sensed a certain amount of negative judgment wrapped up in all of that, a kind of "I'm wearing this expensive brand, so I'm better than everyone else."  It makes me uncomfortable.  I refuse to believe that because my shoes don't cost $400, I'm less than.  What also makes me uncomfortable is my reaction to people like that:  "I DIDN'T waste $400 on a pair of shoes, so I'm obviously smarter than you."  That's not right, either, and just as unfair.  It's funny how a pair of shoes can play so hard on so many different kinds of insecurity. 

Anyway, yes, I'm the fan of several certain brands, partly for nostalgic reasons and partly for reasons of merit, but mainly, probably, because of billions of dollars of research and clever advertising.

June 6: What is the difference between being a fan and being a fanatic?

Seriously, this is the prompt?  All right.  I think the difference between being a fan and being a fanatic is the level of devotion and obsessiveness.  My friend, LB, is a fan of Lady Gaga.  She goes to Gaga's concerts when Gaga is in town, she follows Gaga on Twitter, and she listens to Gaga's music and knows all the words.  My friend, LS, is a fanatic about U2.  He has stalked the band all over the world, looks for news about them and their albums obsessively, and has multiple pictures of himself with various band members.  Most of LS's conversations will contain at least two mentions of U2.  If you don't also love U2, he thinks you're stupid. 

That's all I've got on this.  It's hard to write about something that doesn't matter to me.  Catch you tomorrow.

Where Am I?

I don't travel as much as I used to when I started this blog, but here's the schedule through the end of July anyway:

June 7-8:  Silicon Valley
June 11-12:  San Francisco
June 12-17:  Silicon Valley
July 17-21:  Silicon Valley
July 23-24:  Road trip to Tennessee to take Judy to med school!  YAY!
July 24-25:  Harrogate, TN

June 5: Still no prompt

The Blogher site directs you to some book club thing for weekend prompts, but I was unable to find one.  No matter -- I have startling news.  After being defeated by my allergies last night and going to bed at 10pm (UNHEARD OF) and setting my alarm to start playing "The Edge of Glory" at 9am (thinking I'd be up way before that), I got up at 12:30pm.  That's right -- I slept for FOURTEEN AND A HALF HOURS.  Generally, I feel good, but my eyes feel swollen like they always do when I sleep like that.  I think my mom is napping -- I had a latte and an Amy's burrito, and I didn't hear a peep from her.

Mom was telling me about Grandpa yesterday as we were running errands.  She thinks the reason that he's lived so long is that he never ate much food, and that he had kind of a weak constitution.  That second bit was surprising to me, because Grandpa always made a point of being as active as possible, walking everywhere until the Parkinson's got really bad.  She told me that he and his brothers grew up very poor in the country, and that because they were so poor, there wasn't enough food.  His mother's breast milk either didn't come in, or dried up very quickly.  Because there were so many mouths to feed, they didn't give him rice as a baby, just the water that the rice had been cooked in.  The malnutrition was so bad that he didn't start walking until he was 4.  Given that there was so little food available when he was a child, it's surprising to me that he didn't become a glutton as he got older and there was more food, but he's always just eaten enough to take the edge off the hunger.

Because he's always had that weak constitution, apparently Grandpa was also into alternative medicine quite a bit, maybe a little too much so.  He's always been into herbal concoctions and cupping and acupuncture and the like.  Mom said that one time, he went to an acupuncturist and had a foot long needle inserted into his head.  Now she wonders if that caused the Parkinson's Disease to develop.  We'll never know, but holy crap -- a foot long needle.  Grandpa is brave.

He's also always been extremely generous, maybe also a reaction to growing up so poor.  When the Korean War broke out, Grandpa moved the family out of Seoul south of the city where it was safer.  They sold one of my grandmother's rings (maybe her only ring) to buy a house and a bit of land.  When the war was over, and it was time to move back to Seoul, the thought was that they would sell that house and get my grandmother's ring back.  Instead, my grandfather saw that one of his brothers or cousins or someone had nowhere to live, so he gave them the house and land.  Instead of living there, they sold that land and ended up somewhere else, and the impression I got was that some of that money was squandered on useless things.  My grandmother made one remark decades later that she was upset about not getting the ring back, but Grandpa's philosophy was that you kept enough for yourself for your family to be clothed and fed and sheltered, and you used the rest to help people less fortunate than you.

It's a commendable attitude, but it's caused all sorts of problems in the family ever since.  When your father is giving away the little extra money there is to less fortunate family and strangers alike, some bitterness builds up.  He took in his eldest brother's eldest son and directed a lot of resources toward raising him.  The man's a sociopath, whose wife is unjustifiedly uppity and snobby toward her husband's poor family.  Maybe it's understandable that she'd take that attitude, since he had a series of mistresses all throughout their marriage, mistresses that he kept the old-fashioned way, in their own houses and with allowances.  He didn't bother to send any money to his uncle and aunt, whose generosity allowed him to go to college and make something of themselves.  And there was a time when they really needed it, when they were stretching the rice with extra water to make it last longer, after my mother had married my father and moved to the US.  My mom sent what money she could, but it wasn't much.

My mother, her three brothers, and her sister harbor a lot of resentment toward my grandfather for all of that.  Her brothers especially feel like they didn't get the start in life that they deserved and are struggling as a result.  They blame him.  My first and third uncles married women who feel that my grandfather is a waste of time, so now that he's 92 and struggling, they can't be bothered to help take care of him, even though they live in the same city.  This is where the idea of going to church breaks down for my parents, because these women go to church and feel sanctimonious and justified in their behavior -- their churches say you should discard your parents in favor of God.  I think God's message is being warped into something that allows them to mistreat my grandfather and feel ok about it.

I'd like to believe that karma is real, and that these women are going to receive some sort of punishment for being so selfish and for preventing their husbands, my grandfather's sons, from giving him the kind of help he needs.  My mother doesn't think anything bad will happen to them.  All I can hope is that their own sons marry the same kind of women who don't stop them from going into nursing homes to die, which is what they keep insisting needs to happen to my grandfather.  He is mentally still there, he just needs physical help, and he doesn't want to go into a nursing home, but because they don't want to expend the effort, their rallying cry is, "Nursing home."  Nursing homes mean almost certain death.  None of us have the resources to send him to a nursing home where they might have the staff to take good care of him -- if we did, we could hire a 24-hour nursing service to help him at his apartment.

Getting older is scary.  Aside from the vanity side, with the wrinkles and the slowed metabolism and the gray hair, there's the deteriorating health that can rob you of your independence.  My sister says that Grandpa's like a cat in that he has nine lives.  I don't get as worried about him when he has emergencies because of that.  He always pulls through, often through sheer force of will.  Maybe I'm wrong to be as calm and unworried as I am, but he always, always, always lands on his feet:  he beat cancer, when all the doctors were trying to convince us to put him in hospice care; he beat sepsis, when his stent got blocked and his entire system got infected; he beat sepsis again recently; and he ended up not needing to have a feeding tube inserted into his stomach.

I wonder about his quality of life, though.  Mentally, he's still there 100%, but he doesn't interact with the people around him much.  We have someone who stays with him during the day, but then he has to get strapped into bed at night so he doesn't suffer a fall while nobody is there.  He's like a baby now, in that he's not bothered when he has a dirty diaper.  My mother wants desperately for him to live to be at least 100; I understand that she doesn't want to lose her only living parent and be an orphan.  I just wonder if he's happy and satisfied, especially as I hear my mom say less and less often, "Grandpa said."

Anyway, I think the lesson for me in all of this is to be so grateful for my first world problems and to eat more vegetables and less meat.  Also, I think maybe I know where I get my stubbornness now, too.

June 4: No prompt

Excellent -- an excuse to keep this even shorter than usual.  Random things happened today:

(1)  I woke up this morning, discovering as it played on my phone as my alarm, that it's "Out on the edge of glory" and not "I'm on the edge of glory" as I have been singing.  Good to know.  

(2)  Mom and I ran our usual 5 million errands:  Macy's, Home Depot, Shinchon, Komart, Super H, and Walmart.  It doesn't look like 5 million, and perhaps it's not actually 5 million, but it certainly feels like 5 million.  Especially when it's nearly 100 degrees outside...  

(3)  ...and for some reason your allergies decide to flare.  I felt them coming on before we left the house, so I hit those mofos with some Flonase and some Zyrtec (the generic versions, anyway), and I am still very sniffly and sneezy.  I need to re-Google how much snot a human can make, because I feel like I've exceeded my quota.

Also, I can't find the bottoms to my pink, cowgirl pajamas. 

June 3: Which author made you want to be a writer (or blogger)?

This is an easy question to answer for me:  Florence King.  I discovered her when she wrote "The Misanthrope's Corner" on the last page of National Review and proceeded to try to read everything she ever wrote.  She's funny and acerbic, and she has absolutely no tolerance for any bullshit of any kind.  She's the person who made it clear to me that not only did I not like people, but that I wasn't the only one, and it was ok to feel that way. 

The thing is, I don't want to be a writer because I have any sort of compulsion to write.  Or at least, I don't have a daily, or even weekly or monthly, compulsion to write (witness this sad little blog).  I only write when I have something to say, and most times, Facebook takes care of that urge.  The reason I want to be a writer is because to me it means that most of my wardrobe could consist of pajamas and that I could be very selective about the people with whom I interact.  I wouldn't have to expose myself to undesirable crowds of people going out in the world every day to work.  Instead, I would only see people I knew and liked or had been carefully vetted by people I knew and liked.

The truth is, though, that I rarely leave the house in my current job, so I don't have to interact with the unwashed masses, and I am nearly always in pjs.  The lack of human interaction is slowly driving me crazy.  I guess I'm not as hard-core a misanthrope as Miss King, but that's ok.  I'd still like to find out if I could be a writer and whether I have a book in me, especially if I can justify buying more pjs.

June 2: Tell us about your favourite band/musician.

I don't know.  This prompt is uninspiring for me.  I don't think I have the kind of relationship with music that other people do.  I have a friend who has obsessively followed U2's career for decades, and he's very knowledgeable about music, and he probably has what most people would call "good" taste in music and blah blah blah.  I just like what I like, and mostly that boils down to being able to sing along in the car or at karaoke or laughing in pure joy at the lyrics. 

LB introduced me to Lady Gaga's new CD over Memorial Day weekend, and I'm so glad she did.  Several of the songs feel like the summer anthems of my teens, and that makes me love them.  Some of the lyrics are fun, some are silly (free as my... hair?), but the joy in them calls back a carefree time in my life -- I wish I'd known how easy it was instead of manufacturing melodrama.

If you look at my iPod, I'd say that my favorite bands/musicians by quantity are George Strait, Trisha Yearwood, and Mary Chapin Carpenter.  I love George because he represents the best of Texas men to me:  strong, honorable, and courtly.  I don't know that men like George really exist anymore, and it seems like there's a fair amount of ignorance you have to fight through when you come across it, but I love the alternate reality of his songs.  I love Trisha because almost everything she sings is within belting range for me, and it's easy to connect emotionally with her catalog.  I think that might make me simple or shallow, but I'm ok with that.  I'm happy to express what depth I have in other ways.  I love Mary Chapin because she's such a talented writer -- her lyrics are pure poetry, which is a weird thing to say about music, because it's all sort of poetry.  Her lyrics are so evocative, and she tells such amazing stories in roughly 4 minutes.  A lot of her stuff makes me cry. 

Mostly, I think of music in terms of events.  There's music for cooking, there's music for singing along with on road trips, there's music for karaoke, there's music for when you're feeling blue and want to wallow, there's music for when you're feeling blue and want to feel better, there's music for when you're joyful and you can't keep it in.  I don't know enough to be into the theory of music and be able to deconstruct it and analyzie.  All I know is how it makes me feel and whether I can sing along and scare the other drivers on the road.  I'm cool with that. 

Every Day for a Month?

Apparently, BlogHer is observing June as National Blog Posting Month (or NaBloPoMo).  It's a little confusing, because it looks like May was also NaBloPoMo, but whatever.  I'm willing to give it a shot over here.  BlogHer also gives a helpful theme to drive postings, and this month's theme is fan, and the writing prompt today is "Are you a fan of a sports team? When did you become a fan?"

I am a fan of a sports team (the Astros), but a pretty casual one.  When I lived in Houston, I lived across the street from the baseball park, and I made that choice on purpose.  Partly, it's because rent on that side of downtown is relatively cheap (all the homeless shelters and the people who wander around them and hang out at them bring down prices), and partly it's because I liked the idea of being able to drop in on a baseball game whenever I wanted.  Plus, it was a great excuse to have a hot dog for dinner.

Moving to be closer to your baseball team of choice might not seem indicative of just being a casual fan, but I'm not a diehard.  I'm happy when the Astros do well, and I'm disappointed when they don't (which has been happening more frequently in recent years).  I don't live and die by it.  In college, my friend Bitsy quoted a comedian who said that rooting for a sports team means that you root for a set of clothes.  I can't get attached to the clothes, but I can to individual players.  The players I liked most, Biggio, Tavares, Berkman, Ausmus, and Everett, have all retired or been traded away.  I like the uniform, but I don't know the current team well enough to invest the time, which translates into being interested in the scrolling scores on ESPN when I flip by, but not much more than that.

I'm totally a diehard fan of ballpark hot dogs, though.  DELICIOUS, as long as I don't think too hard about it.

Baby, It's Cold Outside: A Story of Date Rape or Succumbing to Peer Pressure and the Threat of Gossip? AKA: an Overanalysis

I watched the Christmas episode of Glee last night. Kurt and Blaine sang a duet, “Baby, It’s Cold Outside.” One of the people I follow on Twitter mentioned that it’s the date rape anthem, but I didn’t really think anything of it until I really listened to the lyrics the characters were singing. Holy moly: super creepy. I posted about it on Facebook, and while most of the people who commented agreed, my friend Vera made the counterargument that the woman (for the sake of clarity, we’ll call it the woman’s part even though Chris Colfer knocked the singing out of the park) merely wishy-washy and a victim of societal expectations, and that the man is playing along with her fake reluctance. Here is my line-by-line analysis through both lenses:



HER LINE/HIS LINE/BOTH
GLASS HALF FULL INTERPRETATION
GLASS HALF EMPTY INTERPRETATION


I really can’t stay
She has to go
She has to go


But baby, it’s cold outside
He’d like her to stay
He’d like her to stay


I’ve got to go away
She has to go
She has to go

But baby, it’s cold outside
He’d still like her to stay
He’d still like her to stay


This evening has been...
She enjoys his company
She enjoys his company


Been hoping that you’d drop in
He’s open with his emotions
He’s been planning this for a while


...So very nice
She really enjoys his company
This is a cocktail party classic – a polite attempt to indicate the end

I’ll hold your hands, they’re just like ice
Holding hands is nice
He’s physically restraining her


My mother will start to worry
She doesn’t want to worry her mom
There are people who know where I am – you won’t get away with this


Beautiful, what’s your hurry?
He’s distracted by her beauty
He doesn’t care if her mom is worried


My father will be pacing the floor
She doesn’t want to worry her dad
Not just my mom knows – my dad knows, too


Listen to the fireplace roar
Fireplaces are romantic
He doesn’t care if her dad is worried. Dad must not have a gun.


So really, I’d better scurry
She’s got to go
She really needs to go


Beautiful, please don’t hurry
He’s really enjoying her company
He doesn’t care. Also, we have our fourth instance of referring to her not by her name -- possibly an attempt at depersonalization to make it easier for him to commit his planned crime


But maybe just half a drink more
She doesn’t really want to leave and needs an excuse to stay
This is where she really screws up


Put some records on while I pour
Everyone loves music, and they like the same kind
He doesn’t want her watching while he pours the drinks


The neighbors might faint
She’s only reluctant because of what other people might think
She’s reminding him that there are more witnesses


Baby, it’s bad out there
He’s concerned about her safety
He keeps using the weather as an excuse. Does he not have anything better?


Say, what’s in this drink?
She thinks the drink is delicious and wants to know what the secret ingredient is
RED ALERT!


No cabs to be had out there
It’s not safe for her to drive, and cabs are notoriously difficult to find during inclement weather – she should just hang out with him
Why doesn’t he offer to drive her home? Why is she dependent on cabs?

I wish I knew how...
She likes him so much…
Her mind is muddled from her roofied drink…


Your eyes are like starlight now
He thinks she’s really pretty and is open about saying so
The mickey he slipped her is causing her eyes to lose focus and water.


...To break this spell
…that she can’t tear herself away
…and she realizes the grave danger that she has stumbled into


I’ll take your hat, your hair looks swell
Every woman worries about hat hair, and he’s so into her, he thinks hers is pretty
He’s starting to undress her!


I ought to say, “No, no, no sir”
This is what her mother taught her to do
She ought to, but she can’t because of the drugs


Mind if I move in closer?
He’s a gentleman who asks before invading personal space
He’s starting to overwhelm her physically


At least I’m going to say that I tried
If people ask, she’s not a total slut
She’s starting to worry whether this is going to stand up in court


What’s the sense in hurting my pride?
He’s sensitive
This is about him, his pride, and the notches in his bedpost


I really can’t stay
More of what her mother taught her to stay
She’s repeating herself in a desperate attempt to escape


Oh, baby, don’t hold out
He’d like her to make up her mind
He’s says this to all the girls he date rapes


Baby./oh, but it’s cold outside
It’s cold outside
He’s grateful for the excuse the weather has given him to keep her with him a little longer to execute his nefarious plans; she’s kicking herself for coming over without checking the weather report


I simply must go
Is there a glass half full aspect to this poor woman repeating that she wants to leave to no avail?
More repeating herself in the hopes that she’ll be able to leave unscathed


But baby, it’s cold outside
Or that this guy keeps ignoring her with weather reports?
More repeating of the dumbest excuse ever


The answer is no
No glass half full aspect to this one for sure
No means no


But baby, it’s cold outside
More sharing of the weather because she hasn’t noticed
It’s like he’s deaf and mentally challenged


This welcome has been...
She’s worried about what people will think and has resolved to leave
She’s trying politeness


How lucky that you dropped in
He’s enjoyed her visit very much
Yes, lucky that she stumbled into his death trap of a home


...So nice and warm
She enjoys his company
Still trying politeness and pretending


Look out the window at that storm
If she likes nice and warm, she’s not going to get that outside
It’s be raped or freeze to death

My sister will be suspicious
Her sister knows that she likes him
My sister knows where I am and whom I’m with


Gosh, your lips look delicious
He really thinks she’s pretty
The Cialis has kicked in and he’s deciding where to start


My brother will be there at the door
Her brother may interrupt them at an inopportune moment, embarrassing everyone involved
You won’t get away with this


Waves upon the tropical shore
He’s invoking warm locales to keep her warm
I have no idea – if it’s so cold outside, why is he talking about the beach?


My maiden aunt’s mind is vicious
Her aunt thinks she’s a slut as it is
My aunt will kill you in a violent and hideously unpleasant way if you do this


Gosh, your lips are delicious
He’s moved in for a kiss good night and enjoyed it tremendously
Despite her repeated attempts to leave and her overt refusal, he has kissed her


But maybe just a cigarette more
She enjoyed it too, and is looking for an excuse to extend her time with him
She’s hoping that if she keeps her mouth busy with something that can burn him, that will keep him away while she comes up with a plan to escape


Never such a blizzard before
The weather is truly bad, so she should stay
He knows what she’s trying and is telling her it won’t work because of the horrible storm


I’ve gotta get home
If the weather is so bad, she really should get home
She’s really, really, really desperate to leave


But baby, you’d freeze out there
He’s worried about her health and safety
He doesn’t care


Say lend me a coat
She’s requesting his help in maintaining her health and safety
She’s trying an appeal to his better side


It’s up to your knees out there
The situation is too dangerous even to lend a coat – it won’t help
He doesn’t have a better side


You’ve really been grand
She realizes that she’s run out of excuses and is trying more cocktail party techniques to bring the evening to an end
More appeals to his better side

I thrill when you touch my hand
More opening up of his emotions
All he can think about is his animalistic need


But don’t you see?
She recognizes his openness and appreciates it but is more worried about…
She’s trying an appeal to logic


How can you do this thing to me?
He’s hurt that she’d leave him at a critical juncture in their relationship, just when they were getting so close
Didn’t every boy try this excuse in high school? Blue balls won’t kill you. Really.


There’s bound to be talk tomorrow
…people’s cruel gossip
People will find out, and you’re going to be in trouble


Think of my lifelong sorrow...
He cares so much about her…
Is the logic working?


At least there will be plenty implied
They won’t be open about the gossip, they’ll just be really snide and hint
Even if they don’t say it openly, everyone will talk


...If you got pneumonia and died
…and her health, especially since this seems like the start of a beautiful relationship; he can see himself marrying her and having kids with her
No, the logic is not working. Apparently, it’s sleep with him or catch her death of pneumonia; it’s unclear whether he’ll be sorry that she died or that he never got to have sex with her

I really can’t stay
She still cares more about the gossipers
SHE HAS TO GO


Get over that holdout
He’d like her to get over the gossipers
He’s losing patience


Baby, /oh, but it’s cold outside
Everyone will accept cold weather as an excuse for snuggling
Cold weather is dangerous in so many different ways

Just When I Thought I Was a Feminist

I have a friend who blogged about Elin Nordegren and her divorce from Tiger Woods with a great deal of logic and grace and empathy. The empathy is easy to understand because my friend is going through something similar. Chelsea Handler made many of the same points, although perhaps less elegantly, on her talk show. The reasoning is that Elin got a fair amount because of the heartbreak she endured in such a public setting. Her family was irreparably broken, and no amount of money makes up for that, but it does buy her the ability to rebuild her life and to create as much consistency for her children as possible.

I understand all of that and agree with it, but there's a part of me that's not sympathetic. That's the cynical part that read in an article of Elin and Tiger's fairy tale romance that she came to the US specifically to meet a professional golfer. She was living her life in Sweden, when a friend of hers married a pro golfer. Elin came to the US ostensibly to work as her friend's nanny but the article made it clear that Elin quit school and took the nanny job because the friend made it clear that Elin could marry someone rich on the tour.

I don't doubt at all that she genuinely loved Tiger, and I don't doubt that her heart was actually broken, and I really don't doubt that she experienced incomprehensible levels of public humiliation. But I also don't doubt that Elin joined the PGA tour with a plan, and one way or another, that plan came to fruition. And it's the existence of that plan that makes it hard for me to have much sympathy for her.

Yet Another Short Play About Being 7

[CC has joined a gym so she can relearn how to swim. Mom has arranged for her to pay annual dues in one lump sum, but the membership won't be processed for a few days, so the rep on the phone recommended going to the website and printing a 7-day free pass that the gym offers to suck new people in.]

Mom: Here's a lock, and here's the combination.

CC: Thanks, Mom.

Mom: Also, here's a towel. Your swimsuit will be wet after you're finished, so wrap it up in the towel.

CC: Ok, Mom.

Mom: Also, here's a plastic bag -- you can put your towel and suit in it.

CC: Ok.

Mom: Here are some travel-sized toiletries for your shower.

CC: Ok.

Mom: Don't forget to tell the person at the front desk that you already have a membership, or they'll make you take a tour of the gym, and you'll be late for your lesson.

CC: Ok.

Mom: Write down this information: this is the name of the person I talked to, and this is her rep number.

CC: Ok.

Mom: Here's the phone number they can call if they have any questions.

CC: Ok.

Mom: The instructor's name is Kathy, and she's really nice.

CC: Ok.

Mom: Don't forget to tell them that you already have a membership, it just hasn't completed being processed.

CC: Yes, I know -- I'm on it. I have all the information written down. Bye!

[CC arrives at gym.]

CC: Hi! I have a 7-day pass, but --

Dude at front desk: Yeah, your mom called a few minutes ago. Go on back.

A Short Play About Why It Seems Like I'm Hard on Myself

CC: The swimming teacher said you're doing really well.

Mom: That's typically American -- you do one tiny thing right, and they heap on the praise. That's not the Asian way. We tell the truth.

A Short Play About Korean Sayings

[CC and Mom are in CC's office, trying to coordinate travel to LA for a family thing. CC has booked her aunt's and Mom's tickets with Mom looking over her shoulder the whole time and is in the process of booking her own travel. Mom's dialogue is translated from Korean.]

CC: OH, CRAP.

Mom: What's the matter?

CC: I think I might have booked Auntie's ticket as Hyun Bin Choe instead of Hyun Bin Song.

Mom: Can you go back and check?

CC: I don't have the confirmation number -- all of that stuff was e-mailed to you. Can you go check your e-mail?

Mom, after a couple of minutes: No e-mails yet. We can check tomorrow.

CC: CRAP CRAP CRAP CRAP CRAP.

Mom: It's ok. Even monkeys fall out of trees every now and then.

A Short Play About the Buckshot

[CC and Kevin walk into the Buckshot.]

CC, breathing in: It smells like every dive bar I went to in college -- fried food and old beer.

Kevin: It smells like beer and ass. Awesome!

A Short Play About the Language of Underwear

[CC & Mom have returned to the hotel room from dinner in San Jose, CA.]

Mom: People who like cold weather must love it here.

CC: Yeah. A lot of people love it here.

Mom: Even though it's cold outside, people are wearing thongs.

CC: Mom, these days, thongs refer to underwear. I think you probably want to say flip-flops.

Mom: Flip-flops?

CC: Flip-flops.

Mom: That's a made up American word!

CC: Yes, it is, but it will get you into less trouble

Mom: So thongs are t-strings.

CC, cracking up: G-strings.

Mom: But they look like a T! Why do they call them g-strings?

CC, almost unintelligible because of the laughter: I don't know. But they're different from thongs.

Mom: How are they different?

CC: G-strings have a skinny piece of cloth, like a string. Thongs have a little more material.

Mom: Ohhhh. Ok. Flip-flops, thongs, and g-strings.

CC: Yes.

Mom: I've seen people wear the thongs at the gym to make sure their butts look good. I can understand that.