What to do When Twitter Goes Down

Since Twitter is down right now, and has been for almost two hours, I decided to put together a coping mechanism of what we can all do the next time this happens.

  • Actual work, people:  Raise your hand if you’re guilty of running a Twitter client all day at work, checking incessantly, periodically, or once a month, if you’re Sarah!  We all are.  I’d like to think all of us can multitask, and our productivity won’t take a hit, but when the site is down for more than ten seconds, the ensuing world-wide stoppage begs to differ.
  • Catch up on some reading:  We rely on Twitter for all our breaking news – let’s be honest.  How many of you have completely stopped even going to web pages like CNN for news?  Remember that favorite blog you haven’t read in six months?  Have at it.  Twitter may be done, but the rest of the WWW isn’t (we hope)!
  • Update your blog with a meaningless list
  • Remind people that wasting time worrying about the fall of KStew & RPatt speaks to the kind of society we live in now:  Wait, what?  As I was taking my own advice on the reading suggestion, all I could see anywhere is stupid story after story of that trick from Twilight flashing her lady business to a married man and now her boyfriend is moving out.  Snore.  Could not care less.  Also, for those of you who wish you had fame and fortune, this is a good example of privacy being worth a lot more.  Not that I feel bad for her, she brought this on herself – but going through this being watched by the entire country sounds somewhat less fun than say, having to read the Twilight trilogy followed by 50 Shades of Grey (followed by gouging your eyes out because you just read 4,000 pages of total garbage).
  • Rejoice when Twitter starts working again.

Penn State/Aurora/Things That Don’t Matter

The JoePa statue came down today – but at least six months too late…minimum.  JoePa’s reputation was already in the gutter, next to the remnants of Tara Reid’s career.  I don’t know about you, but I will always remember him as one monster who protected another.  His football success is meaningless, everything he did for Penn State ultimately no longer matters because what he ACTUALLY did was drag the school into the worst/largest/unspeakable scandal in sports history by way of protecting a known child rapist.  Way to keep that legacy alive, JoePa.

I don’t give a shit that he funded the library or anything else that he did that could be considered remotely positive.  He allowed a predator to roam free on campus for 13 years and ruin countless lives because he decided football and his legacy were more important.  I only wish he lived to see the legacy he worked so hard to protect completely ruined.  Ironic, isn’t it?

The theater shootings in Aurora are still resonating rather loudly – as they should be.  Innocent lives cut short for no apparent reason.  The victim’s families have asked that we remember their names rather than the suspect’s.  To be completely honest, I have no idea what his name is, nor do I care, unless it becomes part of a headline that reads “(NAME) Locked in 6×8 Prison Sell With Jerry Sandusky, a Machete, and a Pair of Pliers.  Have at it, Darwin!”  Is that headline too long?  I really don’t care.

Which brings me to things that don’t matter – the Bachelorette (fake), all installments of the Real Housewives (if I wanted to see bitches screaming at each other, I’d just go to Durkins), Jerseylicious (achieves the rare feat of being trashier than Jersey Shore)…why do things like this exist?

I mean, sure, stick me on a tropical island, all expenses paid with 25 dudes and I’ll fall in love too.  So yes, I somehow jumped from JoePa to why I don’t want to read live Tweets of the Bachelorette season finale because again – WHO CARES?  So may bigger things going on than trash reality TV.  My TV is off this evening.

Things That Make No Sense

I woke up this morning to the AWFUL news out of Aurora, Co. that a gunman had opened fire at a midnight showing of the new Batman movie, killing 12 and injuring 50.

Of those killed was Jessica Redfield, an aspiring sports journalist.  Jessica’s real last name was Chawi, but she chose to go by Redfield for this reason.  The outpouring of grief over the loss of this extremely talented and beautiful 24-year old is gut-wrenching to read.

Standing out of course is her brother’s blog and tweets.

What makes Jessica’s death even harder to stomach is that last month, a gut feeling led her out of the food court at Eaton Centre in Toronto, where just minutes later a man opened fire and killed two people (side note:  I would respectfully request that my sister, brother-in-law, and nieces never go back there ever again, please and thanks).

While I read her last blog entry about this incident, I am fighting back tears.

This excerpt is especially moving:

I was shown how fragile life was on Saturday. I saw the terror on bystanders’ faces. I saw the victims of a senseless crime. I saw lives change. I was reminded that we don’t know when or where our time on Earth will end. When or where we will breathe our last breath. For one man, it was in the middle of a busy food court on a Saturday evening.

I say all the time that every moment we have to live our life is a blessing. So often I have found myself taking it for granted. Every hug from a family member. Every laugh we share with friends. Even the times of solitude are all blessings. Every second of every day is a gift. After Saturday evening, I know I truly understand how blessed I am for each second I am given.

I feel like I am overreacting about what I experienced. But I can’t help but be thankful for whatever caused me to make the choices that I made that day. My mind keeps replaying what I saw over in my head. I hope the victims make a full recovery. I wish I could shake this odd feeling from my chest. The feeling that’s reminding me how blessed I am. The same feeling that made me leave the Eaton Center. The feeling that may have potentially saved my life.

I would say she absolutely was NOT overreacting.  She experienced something awful that day, and embraced fully the life she was living.  For that event to be life-changing is normal.  It only makes me more upset we will never be able to experience her success and potential.

Why does it take senseless tragedies like the one early this morning for us to realize how lucky we are?

Why did Jessica, who escaped one tragedy, have to fall victim to another?

Why are 11 other people dead, including a SIX-YEAR OLD CHILD??

I am sitting here, unable to fathom why this deranged lunatic would go into a theater and open fire on innocent people.

In reading an updated article in the Tribune, I stumbled across the following:

“This is one of the most horrific nights I’ve ever had to work,” said Comilla Sasson, an emergency doctor at University of Colorado Hospital in Aurora where 22 patients ranging in age from three months to 45 years arrived in private cars, police cars and ambulances.

So often we become stressed at work or and whether I remind myself or a friend I always say that the stress will come and go but at least we’re not saving lives.  If I make a mistake at work, no one dies.  I am not called upon to deal with life-threatening injuries and my heart also goes out to the ER staff that worked towards saving the injured.

It has been very hard for me to go about my day today as more details of the event unfolds.  I am struggling to concentrate as my heart breaks for the family and friends of those who were killed.  And I feel helpless.

All I can do is tell my family and friends how much I love them, each and every day.  The next time I sit at a White Sox game or go on a long run with Katie or simply meet friends for brunch, I need to stop and realize how lucky I am to be sitting, running, eating, breathing and loving.

I am urging everyone else to do the same.  Take a day to remind yourself of everything you have to be grateful for.  Do it for Jessica, because she no longer can.

Well, That’s Embarrassing

Yesterday was a lovely day – you know, lovely in the sense that I had to run 11-miles in 400% humidity and felt nauseous and then went to meet up with Melissa to watch Matt’s softball game in the heat.

The team’s bar sponsor, Cody’s, is a little hole-in-the wall type place in Lakeview.  They do not accept credit cards and they don’t serve food, but you can order in from anywhere, or in yesterday’s instance, we all brought food for a potluck, and Matt grilled chicken.

The other thing about Cody’s is that they allow dogs.  A bunch of people on the team had dogs and brought them – they were all awesome, super well behaved and adorable.

When we were sitting and watching the game, a guy walks by us with his dog, who took an interest in one of the other ones.  He was in a sling, which has to be a pain in the ass when you’re walking your dog, but I digress.


Shortly after we got to Cody’s, the guy with the sling also showed up.  I remembered thinking he was cute, so I took this as a sign to at least chat with him.

We talked for a while, and bless Melissa’s heart, she was trying to figure out if he was single.  His name is James and he had just moved into the building across the street from Cody’s and was killing time waiting to meet up with a friend.

At one point, he was talking to the owner of the bar, Gene (I think).  I waved over the bartender and pointed at James and said I wanted to buy his next drink.  She nods.  James then orders his drink, and she makes him pay for it.  I was sort of like WTF, and wanted to say something, until I realized that when she nodded at me she also said, “for Gene?” but quietly enough that I thought she said James.  Oops.  My bad.

A couple of minutes later she says to Gene, “this young lady bought you a drink.”

James says, “Wow, that was really nice of you.”  And of course through gritted teeth I was like, “I know, right?”  Thank GOD Melissa has been there enough to know who I bought the drink for and that he was the owner and not some random 50-year-old dude, because that would be creepy.  I could at least play it off like I was a regular (I’m not) buying the owner a drink.

In any case – not the end of the world, but my plan to be this really cool chick completely backfired.

At one point, James was getting ready to leave, and while he was outside saying goodbye to people, I did something I haven’t done since 2003:  Wrote my number down on a bar napkin.

He came back inside and asked me if I’d be back anytime soon and I said I wasn’t sure, but maybe.  I mean, really?  Can’t you just ask me for my # if you want to see me again?  So I was like, “Well actually here’s my number.”  It was super awkward, let’s be honest, because if he wanted it, he would have asked for it.

So, I am not going to hold my breath and wait for his call/text, and now I have to sit here wondering how cool it would have been if the buying him a drink thing had actually worked.