ISO Roommate

Four months into my 30s, I received a phone call from my step-dad. Apparently, we have a family friend I’ve never known about.

And apparently, said friend comes from a really nice family and just needs a furnished room for the summer. Said friend is interning in Indianapolis and said friend is a really nice guy and comes from a really nice family. Yeah, I said it twice.

I’ve lived alone for years and have got to say, it has some amazing benefits. If someone killed all of your Pepto Bismol and suddenly you’re dying of indigestion from a days worth of cookouts and brew and the whole bottle is empty; the only finger you can point is at yourself. Damn it Jill! You drank all the pink magic potion. The trash didn’t get taken out? Ooops, my bad. I hope I don’t get mad at me for slacking.

Does anyone else think that Pepto Bismol tastes really good?

There are other true pleasures of single dwelling. A Saturday morning with your self to drink coffee, read US Weekly and watch infomercials without judgment or interruption is delightful. Wandering naked throughout the house without fear of a wobbly bits sighting is also quite nice. No one frowns upon you when your dog poops on the floor. Sometimes Jack can’t wait to go! I don’t want to explain my poor pet parenting to anyone.

Especially to said friend.

I am quite nice when I want to be and so when asked if said friend could stay here I of course obliged and was very happy to help with his move in and making him comfortable. I even emptied my second bedroom, which is actually used as my closet for said friend! Said friend doesn’t have a car so I drove him around quite a bit; to the grocery, to Bloomington, to the airport, to karate or whatever it is he does. I offered smoothies. I offered fans. I offered to be a friend.

Said friend offered to not lift a finger or leave the house all summer and complain at every opportunity of the chump change he’s paying to live in downtown Indianapolis in a furnished condo five seconds from Mass Ave.

As we all know, I like to rant and I could go into all the dirty details…

But I won’t because the purpose of You Don’t Know Jack is to provide my fellow young professional peers with important information and advice so you don’t make the same stupid mistakes I do every day.

If you decide to have a roommate or move in with a friend or significant other here are some good pointers to keep in mind before taking the plunge. I borrowed all these pointers from the internet – sometimes those internet people have a way with words that I don’t.HTTP://WWW.WIKIHOW.COM/BE-A-GOOD-ROOMMATE.

Find a good roommate. It can be tempting to select a roommate on the basis of how friendly they are, but you’re better off judging them on the basis of day to day living compatibility. Compare their daily habits to yours.

Be upfront about your expectations. Set boundaries and stick with them. This applies to food, clothes, possessions, loud activities, use of common areas, parties, quiet hours, cleaning responsibilities, and so on.

Respect each other’s privacy and personal space. This is especially important if you share a small living area. Make a clear delineation between your stuff and your roommate’s stuff. That way you are only responsible for your things. You must always ask before “borrowing” anything, no matter if it’s trivial. Definitely take good care of any borrowed items.

Clean up after yourself. This doesn’t mean that you have to be a neat freak, but don’t leave your dirty dishes in the sink for days on end, dump your things in the living room, or leave mountains of laundry all over the bedroom, especially if you share it with your roommate. Try to agree on a minimum standard of cleanliness that you’ll all abide by.

Be courteous of your roommate’s sleeping habits. If you are a night owl, keep your noise down and turn the lights down after your roommate goes to bed so you don’t disturb them. If you go to bed early, don’t get exasperated with your roommate for their late hours, but at the same time try to find ways that you can sleep undisturbed. The same thing applies for rising in the morning.

Spend time with your roommate. Say hello and goodbye, ask them how their day was, and show interest in his or her life. Getting to know the person you live with helps you understand their perspective, and allows them to understand yours. It also makes it easier to deal with problems that you have with that person if you’ve already established a rapport with them. Try to set a time in which you both can hang out at least once a week. Make dinner together, watch a movie, etc. Do something nice for your roommate every so often–make their bed, bake them cookies, or offer to give them a ride somewhere if they don’t have a car.

Communicate. As in any relationship, living with someone requires a great deal of work. Communication is key in making the relationship work well long-term, or even for a short time. If a problem comes up, it’s better to talk about it right away than to try and ignore it and let it get worse. If you simply cannot communicate openly and there is tension all the time. Find a new roommate. The stress is just not worth it. You may be better friends if you choose to live separate.

Share. Or decide what you will share. Decide what contents in the fridge are ok and which are off limits. Determine whether or not a common phone line will be sufficient if one person spends a lot of time on the phone. If you borrow something, let your roommate know and (if necessary) try to replace it.

Divide responsibilities. If your roommate is a good cook and you are not, have him cook and you do the dishes. It may also be a good idea to set up a chores schedule, where you will take turns alternating cleaning the bathroom, taking out the trash, etc.

I’ll be sure to review this list prior to opening my doors to anymore said family friends in the future.

Indecent Exposure

It’s as though I attract crazy people. It’s amazing to me how many times in a week, I think to myself… “did that really just happen?”

So my best friend Piper calls me at the most inconvenient times. Pretty much every day of my life- god love her. She is in California, so for her, it’s good timing… for me, not so much. It’s either 11am, when I’m knee deep in work or 10pm, when I’ve decided that I will not be conversing with anyone but Jack until the following morning.

Yet- she’s my best girl. So on most days unless I’m in the middle of something earth shattering (I hate that saying btw), I will answer… because who knows, something could be really important this time. Maybe she isn’t just killing time on her drive to work in LA traffic. Maybe it really is OVER (again) with her near-do-well boyfriend and she needs me to tell her that he is, in fact, an idiot and of course he deserves the silent treatment for at least three days for mentioning the word ‘boobs’ – and he was not referring to hers.

I always answer it when I can because I know that she will be there to answer it when I need her to. Duh.

So at exactly 11:00am today, like clockwork this morning Piper rings me… I consider not getting it for a minute when I realize I’m not doing anything that I can’t do while chatting so I pick up. It is absolutely amazing how quickly our conversation turned to how much our dogs weigh now and whether or not we think I could sneak Jack on the plane for our upcoming rendezvous in Santa Barbara.

So I step out. My colleagues don’t want to hear that Jacked gained 2 lbs and definitely will no longer fit under my seat.

I go to the bathroom for privacy because last time I tried for privacy in our stairwell I ended up locking myself in and having to call a co-worker to let me out- real cool. Well, definitely cooler than trucking down 15 flights of stairs. Nonetheless I learned my lesson.

At first when I get to the bathroom, I’m alone. I’m not even using the bathroom- just in a stall. A couple of completely loud, babbling women come in and I think to myself how incredibly annoying they are. I can’t even hear Piper over their cackles! Then I remember where I am – and all is fair – there are no rules – we do what we want – in the women’s restroom.

Apparently not.

Immediately, I hear someone say…

“Can you PLEASE get off your cell phone.”

Are they talking to me? I’d barely said a word and I wondered how anyone would even hear me over them. Anyhow, I just tell Piper to hold on. I check myself out in the mirror (of course), a gal my age comes out and I smile at her and leave.

Minutes later I hear a knock at our office door. I look up to see a woman through the glass and think nothing of it and go back to my business… a co-worker lets her in and I turn around to see her waving at me saying “don’t worry you’re not in trouble.”

Wha?

She’s a little older, short brunette hair, grasping a Styrofoam cup of coffee and approaching me in a most peculiar way. She reminds me of a gossipy mom from high school. Like she’s about to share something ‘really juicy’ and once it pours out of her mouth, you think wow- this woman is bored.

I still don’t know who she is.

“I just wanted to apologize to you if you heard me in the bathroom tell you to get off your cell.”

Seriously?

“My friend said I was really ballsy to say that…”

Seriously?

“You see, I’m fifty years old and I just don’t like people on the phone because what if I had to, you know… let one go or ‘make noises’… and the person on the line hears that…”

No way.

She goes on to actually make faux noises of ‘air’ and continues to try to convince me of her ‘stance’ on why she said it.

Insert wide-eyed, shocked looking Jill here.

“I have three kids… yada yada… and I would always get off the phone if I came into a bathroom and there were other people there. I’m totally addicted to my phone too…. Yada yada”

Is she insinuating that I am addicted to my phone? Whatever.

“I don’t even know if you heard me, but you know… I just think that you shouldn’t do that in case other people are making bathroom noises….”

Please remember- I work in a wide-open space with 10 different people within 50 ft of me. I keep telling her with my eyes and hands to keep it down.

Correct me if I’m wrong, but her interruption of our office flow to pop by and explain her reasoning for asking me to get off the phone, you know – the loud the ‘sounds’ that could be made in the bathroom – to me and my office of 10 people should have embarrassed her twenty times more than those sounds actually happening behind closed doors in the bathroom.

However, it did not seem they did.

I sat in shock, and in typical Jill fashion- never gave her the satisfaction of saying anything that would make her feel better about her visit – by saying nothing at all. I assume she had a burst of ‘balls’ to say what she was thinking to someone she could not see. Obviously she thought that other people would empathize with her situation. First, her co-worker, who did not, and next, the stranger in the stall. And perhaps she wanted my co-workers to hear and understand?

Something tells me she never got her validation.

With that, I just stared at her like , OK- anything else? She says – ‘well, you probably didn’t even hear me.”

“Yes. I heard you. I just didn’t feel like it was your business to say anything.”

With this, she said “actually, it is my business….” after which all I hear is Charlie Brown’s teacher… I turn my back to her and she left. Pride in hand, I’m sure. Wait, that’s just coffee.

So, Ok- maybe I shouldn’t have been on the phone. I’ll admit just that. It’s kinda weird to chat in a stall, but it never bothers me when other people do it! I just don’t have time or energy to waste telling other people what to do. Well, I’ll give my opinion, but that is not telling people what to do, is it?

I only have one “no no” on my list this time. And one reaction.

1)    Please don’t talk on the phone on the bathroom stall.

Well – maybe YOU shouldn’t talk to your friend because I could have gotten stage fright and been blocked up for days! (not that that has ever happened)

Meltin' It Off With Mitch

I’ve always kind of been one of those lucky chicks. You know, the ones who could eat anything and never gain weight. I’ve lived off Taco Bell since I was six years old and my mouth waters at the sight, the scent, even the thought of french fries. I love them all and all for different reasons. McDonalds has cracked the code on fulfilling my monthly cravings, so hot and salty. You know, like a good man. Wendy’s taste heavenly when you dip them in a frosty… also, like a good man. Steak n’ shake dipped in “cheese” if that’s what you call it, waffle fries from Chick Filet just speak for themselves – so good you can’t eat them on Sunday because that day should be reserved for the lord, not fries.

So, I was that chick who ate anything and everything and I have weighed the same since highschool. In fact, until about 6 months ago I could still squeeze myself into my favorite vintage Levi’s I bought when I was 14 from BR Vintage and Kurt Cobain ruled the world. Anyhow, I hope you don’t think I’m bragging, believe me I’m not. Just setting the scene people.

And son of a bitch, it happened again! I turned 29 and I get another smack in the face. Not only did I get tagged with a bunch of unfortunate photos of myself on Facebook this year, I got tagged with ten extra pounds.

The good news is there’s more of me to virtually poke. Bah dum bump (that was me attempting a joke, a terribly bad joke).

Today I = 29 yrs young+ 10lbs + job where they stock the kitchen like Little Boy is about to be dropped and many more reasons to grab drinks and be social than – uh do something about it. (Thanks IndyHub). I suddenly have a strong understanding of the ‘wobbly bits’ Bridget Jones mentioned a time or two and I don’t like it one bit.

I recognized this problem like 2 months ago. Which is why on a Saturday morning some time ago when I could have been working out, I instead chose to drink coffee, eat scones and watch infomercials. Good thing I did! Phew! I discovered ‘Melt if off with Mitch!’. Mitch Gaylord, that is. Not that dude from Indy who doesn’t do the government thing anymore but still has bumper stickers all over the place to prove – he’s the man. Lucky.

Mitch Gaylord, who I guess was in the Olympics, sucked me in and now I am the proud owner of a 2-pound medicine ball, a tape measure, a meal list and a DVD. And Mitch promised me I would lose one size in 3 days!

This week it’s on like D.K. Kong. I bought all of the food yesterday. Sadly, it was not cheap. Oh well, love don’t cost a thing, a tight bootie does.

And, drum roll please, today, I completed day one! I ate all my meals and did the exercises in my living room. Meanwhile, Jack decided I tasted like McDonald’s fries and wanted to lick me non-stop on my feet, ankles, forehead blah blah blah while I was trying to shake my medicine ball.

1 day down- 2 to go. I’ll let you know how it goes. How about for our top ten list let’s list common excuses we make to ourselves to not workout… Ok! I’ll go first.

1)    I need to let Jack out. And it turns out he didn’t really want to go on a walk, but rather preferred to watch Kendra and had a random craving for pizza. If you saw his cute lil’ face, you would never want to tell him no.
2)    I forgot my shoes… again.
3)    It’s Wednesday. Don’t you know it’s five-dollar pitcher night at Scotties?
4)    It’s Thursday. Don’t you know it’s half price martinis at Scholars?
5)    It’s Friday.
6)    I think instead of buying dinner, I’ll buy a new pair of shoes. Skipping a meal is certainly dedication to a better body if you ask me.
7)    I parked really far out there in the lot today at Target. Does that count as cardio?
8)    Ordering off the fresco menu at Taco Bell totally cancels out spinning class.
9)    I’ll just have some sex instead. Oh wait… how much does it really take to burn a few calories? Ouch.
10)    Bally’s closed their doors last month. And old school, down and dirrrrty is the only way to go if you are truly a hardcore health nut. Anybody know where I can find a Gold’s?

Let’s make a toast to no excuses this week. No toasting with alcohol though, just use one of the 8, 8oz. glasses of water Mitch suggests you drink each day.

I Dumped Myself on Valentine's Day

The guy next to me is reading playboy on US Airways flight 3032 from Washington DC to Indianapolis. The driver of a pretty nice shiny black town
car doused himself in what I imagine Sex Panther smells like prior to driving
me to the airport. I dumped myself on Valentine’s Day.

I’m not quite sure what irony really means, so I’ll look it up. Synonyms:

•    Satire
•    Paradox
•    Sarcasm
•    Mockery
•    Insincerity

Interesting, I had no idea what irony really meant until just now. I think I thought it meant something more like a coincidence.

Well then, I guess it’s not ironic that the guy is reading playboy on an airplane or that the driver smelled like 10 gallons of Brut. Who reads Playboy on an airplane?

And I guess it’s not ironic that I had to dump myself on Valentine’s Day either.

I’m recently the owner of a broken heart. It’s not like, mega-broken, it’s more like someone flicked it really hard with a rubber band. So it only hurt for a second. The nagging ache is now in my head full of questions.

I met a lad who from the instant I met him told me how amazing I was. Beautiful, smart, incredible, amazing. He wanted to see me immediately after leaving my side. He suggested my tickets to come and see him be one way. He wanted to wake up next me. Liked it when I called in the morning while he was still sleeping so he could hear my voice. Wanted me to walk right next to him because we were ‘together’. Loved my bluntness. Nothing I shared about me or my past or my future scared him. The only thing he was scared of was the emotions he had for me. He sent me flowers. He sent me pictures. He gave me gifts. He took me on trips. He texted all day, emailed and called. Couldn’t wait to see me again. Miss ya!

Yada, yada, barf.

What’s a girl to do? Of course she would think she finally met someone who loves her ‘exactly the way she is.’ (Thanks a lot Bridget). I fell right on in, heart first, of course.

Then just as quickly as this new beautiful world unveiled itself to me, it disappeared. No more sweet texts, no more calls to say good night, no more talks of our tropical vacation, no more need to stand by me.

So of course one asks, what happened? What gives? What did I do? Apparently nothing. I’m amazing. (duh).

I’m a gal who never just dives in. I’m cautious. I don’t open up easily. I’ve had my heart flicked several times before. There is no way that that I did this. There is no way that I pushed for something that the other party clearly didn’t want. It’s just not my bag. If someone isn’t showing enough interest, my advice is to RUN.

I’m not meaning to sound like a woman scorned. I’m not. I’m rather entertained and in awe of the ways that people choose to end things. Men and women, we all go about it in our own way. Sadly, most people just don’t know how to break up these days.

I’ve decided that I’m probably not the only one who has had to endure some lame breakup. So, I’ve asked friends to share their stories of crushed love in hopes that the next time you want to break it off with someone, you follow the top ten ways NOT to do it. Here are some surefire ways shared by our peers to end things the wrong way:

1.    “I’m not feeling it”, which was needless to say since the girl I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with was going to Cancun with her new boyfriend two weeks after we broke up so…
2.    My boyfriend dumped me before an already paid trip to Hawaii.
3.    When I found two cruise tickets at his house with another girls name on the ticket… no words were needed.
4.    Over email. He lived in Chicago and I lived in Nashville. I was supposed to fly to Chicago that weekend for Memorial Day and he emailed me to tell me that I shouldn’t waste my money.
5.    After 3 months of dating, he asked me to be exclusive. The next month, he said, “I’ve changed my mind, but I’d still like to see you.”
6.    I saw my boyfriend take a girl to the back seat of his car and watched him “make love” to her. I have him to thank because I am happy where I am at today and wouldn’t be here if that didn’t happen.
7.    The ‘silent treatment technique’. No returned calls, no explanation. That’s like a no call, no show. Definite grounds for firing.
8.    Freshman year of college my girlfriend broke up with me via email right before a class. For 45 minutes I had to watch my Sociology of Religion professor do a Wicken knife ceremony while planning what I would say to her after class.
9.    An ex-girlfriend was hooking up with one of my best friends and was presumed to stripping at a club.
10.    The guy appeared to adore me, and then just stopped calling. I’m like what’s up? He’s like, “I’m not ready.” I’m like ok, “so you’re just not going to call?” Apparently, he didn’t want to lose me because he thought some day he would be ready. I love that he thought he’d just not call until then. So he wasn’t going to dump me. I had to do it for him… on Valentine’s Day.

So, the lesson for all of you who are looking from advice from Jack and me is that there is no good time to break up with someone, but there is a good way. Just be honest. You might get called names or have to deal with a crying, angry, crazy person for a short period of time, but I do believe they’ll appreciate your honesty in the long run.

Plus you won’t get articles written about how stupid you are posted on the Internet for all the world to see.

Please do tell, how would you have preferred NOT to be dumped? Commiserate. It’s cool. We’ve all been there.

Project Bellyband

How many people out there had to wash three pairs of flip flops in the dishwasher last night? Not many, huh? You may be wondering why I bring this up. Or you don’t care at all. In which case, you should probably move on to more enlightening and informational articles by my fellow IndyHub Spokes. However, if you want to hear about the main man in my life, then read on sistah! (and brothers of course – though I doubt any men read this stuff)

HE is the most incredible guy. Never talks back. Never questions my motives or thinks I look fat. He is so friggin’ cute too. Big brown eyes, curly hair and a perma grin from ear to ear. He doesn’t care what we do as long as we’re together. If I want to sleep, he’ll sleep. If I want to watch TV, he’ll get the remote. If I’m hungry he could care less about what I want as long as I give him a bite.

His life literally revolves around me and let’s face it, that’s the quickest and most pain free way to this gal’s heart.

So what does this have to do with washing flip flops in the dishwasher on the pots and pans cycle?

Well… my man, he is fabulous – but not perfect. Today was the day I hit the ceiling and realized that I don’t know Jack… about Jack.

Jack Bear Thixton, the man of my dreams, is also my favorite lil’ doggy! My crazy, wild-eyed pup who after almost of year of living with me still cannot grasp the concept of peeing outside -  and not on my shoes.

And it’s not just my shoes… it’s been:

• MY YOGA MAT (IT WAS REALLY AWESOME FIGURING THAT ONE OUT 40 MINUTES INTO CLASS)
• MY HOUSE GUEST’S TENNIS SHOES (HE DOES HAVE A THING FOR SHOES, JUST LIKE HIS MOMMA!)
• THE EDGE OF MY COUCH TEN MILLION TIMES OVER (I TOOK A RAZOR TO IT AND CUT THE WHOLE BOTTOM HALF OF MY COUCH OFF. DON’T ASK.)
• MY FAVORITE NEW FLORAL SCARF (AND I FIGURED THAT OUT HALF WAY TO LA ON A PLANE – GROSS)
• ON MY MOM’S DOG BAILEY MULTIPLE TIMES (WHICH REALLY CRACKS ME UP)
• MY NEIGHBORS WEDDING GIFT FROM BED, BATH & BEYOND THAT I PICKED UP SO NO ONE WOULD STEAL IT OFF THE PORCH. (NOT SURE WHAT IS WORSE, A STOLEN GIFT OR A GOLDEN GIFT FROM JACK)
• AND HE PEED RIGHT ON MY LEG IN FRONT OF MY WHOLE FAMILY AND I WILL NEVER EVER HEAR THE END OF THAT ONE

This list goes on and on and on and on and on.

And I’m not a neat freak by all means, but THIS is just a new level of disgusting that I can no longer handle! Hence the commencement of PROJECT BELLYBAND.

I’ve tried a number of things to get him to stop… stay off sprays, pee here instead sprays, yelling and screaming and shoving his nose in it, the silent treatment and even a little reverse psychology but nothing sticks. Except his stains. Haha – I crack me up.

Anyhow, my dear friend Gwyn used a belly band (basically a doggy diaper) for her dog and her lil’ dude, Luke, is totally healed now! And it’s even kinda cute as it should be for a twenty dollar diaper. So, beginning today Jack will be wearing a belly band until he straightens out his life and starts making better choices. And if I hear one more person say that there are no bad dogs, just bad owners I will remind them of the deep commitment that I made to the man in my life, the man of my dreams -

Jack, I do. Until pee does us part.

No Strings Attached

I feel like societal pariah.

Yes, I paid my taxes. No, I’m not a dead-beat dad, nor am I a terrorist. I’m not a pedophile, geez I hardly even like kids, let alone touch them. I would never kill a person. In fact I almost cried when we hit a squirrel on I-70 on the way to the Indy 500. Actually, I think I’m quite the upstanding citizen if I may say so myself. I work, pay my bills and clean up Jack’s poo in public places. I even do nice things for people like, uh, call them back and listen to problems and give advice.  Geez. I’d even recycle if I could around to it.

But recently, a giant stamp has been showing up on my forehead. You can’t see it without a black light. But shove me under and there it is…  SINGLE. Someone stamped my head over night and didn’t tell me they were going to do it. It just showed up one day.

Today, I pop by my mom’s house for lunch. My whale of an uncle (not fat, just a very large man) is floating on a tiny pink raft in the pool. We get to chatting and after he tells me how much money he makes, offers me beef barley soup and a loan for ten dollars, he says… “are you married?”

“Yes, uncle Jeff. I got married and you didn’t know anything about it.”

“God, I can’t believe you’re not married! How old are you?”

“Dude, I’m 29, shut up.”

“Do you have a boyfriend.”

“No.”

“Why?! That’s so weird.”

My eyes roll, mentally, not physically (because I’m not twelve) and I go eat my beef barley soup which he promises is low in carbs.

Big Jeff Stud is not the only one asking me these types of questions as of late, or mentioning little things such as my biological clock, settling down or meeting the ‘one’. “Perhaps you should be less picky. You’re totally afraid of commitment and MUST be totally sexually frustrated. OR you’re gay! Maybe you should try eHarmony! It’s so much more classy than match.com.”

So here’s the deal, out of nowhere I’m 29 and my gal pals are dwindling… planning big weddings, shower hopping and getting ready to start their new lives. Suddenly, the calls to go shopping, have after work cocktails, do concerts or have pool dates have diminished at an alarming rate!  Now everything is done in couples and you’re rarely invited anymore – but not to worry, every so often, a friend will have  they want you to meet. Well, that is, if they can set up a triple date of couples so it’s not so “awkward”.

Right.

Thing is, I’m really excited for people when they meet someone special and get married! I can understand the place they are in life and think it’s great. And I’d like to think that is true for most people, well, except that one friend who can’t be happy for other people-that would just be too hard. Oh, you know you’ve got one, don’t lie. If you don’t- you are that friend.

Then why is it that just because their place in life has suddenly changed, they think that I am less happy being where I am? And why am I suddenly not part of the club? I’m almost positive this is not in my head- well, my mom says it is, but what does she know. She’s married.

Finally, single gals hit a great point during their late 20s/early 30s – just living life, doing well at work, with clarity around who they are and able to explore the world… and something is wrong with them? Something is amiss?

The only thing missing as of late for me is the connection between me to my favorite girlfriends. Those, dear judgers and societal shunners, are the strings that are no longer attached.

Ten fun myths of being – SINGLE… what others have you heard?

#1: If someone is single past a certain age, there must be something wrong with them like they have halitosis and hammer-time

#2: Single people are irresponsible and hate babies

#3: Single people don’t have family obligations and would prefer to be at Rock Lobster at Christmas

#4: Single people are unhappy being single and go home at night and pray for marriage to a shrine of celebrity couple photos

#5: Single people want you to set them up with your second cousin who has three kids with three different women

#6: At a certain age, a single person is too old to get married and should just live with their cats and call it a day

#7: Single people are uncomfortable hanging out with married people and probably will try to steal your husband or wife

#8: Single people eat take out all the time and rent movies and watch them in their underwear with bras on their heads

#9: Single people party all the time and drive drunk through your yard

#10: You’re not an adult until you are married because then you are definitely mature

Social Media Etiquette

VIOLA- my first column was posted on IndyHub.org! Here is a nice copy for you click challenged peeps:

Normally I would have a question and answer session in this column, but today, today, will be a rant and general tips session. Mostly because I don't have a question to answer, but also because this crazy lady shocked me today and I wondered why someone would think that the action was considered ok.

Social media, good stuff, right? I’m talking great stuff. I keep in touch with everyone on earth that I want to (and don't want to). I’ve met some pretty awesome men to date and women to bond with via networks like myspace, facebook, match.com and tweeting on the twitter. Until recently I even worked for a company who focuses on leveraging social media for businesses. All and all, we view these tools as a good thing. Connecting is good!

Well, sometimes.

So, this woman sends me a note on Facebook re: your dad.

"Hi Jill,
I am sure that you probably don't remember me, but I used to see your dad about 23 to 24 years ago. You were just little. It was when he lived in his aunts house on the east side of town. You have grown up! Anyway, just wanted to check to see how your dad is.

Take care,
Brenda"

Let's go back 23-24 yrs in Jill's world. I was six, my parents were married. Nice, right?

My reply, re: your dad:

"Hi Brenda,

Well ... I certainly hope you weren't seeing my dad 23-24 yrs ago because that would have meant you were seeing my dad while he was married to my mother.

My father is doing well, I'll let him know you touched base.

Best,
Jill"

her: "Well, actually they were going through their divorce at the time. It was in late 1986 and early 1987."

OH! well, that makes it ok! Why would someone think that is cool? I mean seriously.

This isn't a forum for me to discuss poor little Jill, child of divorce... maybe later :). I post this only to ponder the thought of social media etiquette. Just because it’s so easy to touch base, to be heard, to communicate - where does one draw the line between sharing and, uh... over-communicating?

So, with the help of some friends, we put together our own list of social media etiquette tips and pointers, dos and don'ts, if you will:

1. Don’t write your ex-boyfriend's daughter that you knew when she was six and you were dating her married father. (That's mine.)
2. Don't send a message intended for one person to the whole stream - most of us don't really need to hear the response.
3. Share great stuff! If it’s awesome- share it. If it’s a teddy bear hug gift for VIP friends and you haven't talked to the person you are sending it to since high school, rethink it, k?
4. Don’t say anything/post anything/link to anything you wouldn't want your mom to see or your boss. They will find it - and this is what happens when they do.
5. Don’t lurk. You know you are out there. Lurkers sit on the edge of networks and watch (or stalk). If you're going to be part of the community, participate! All your watching is giving us the eebie geebies.
6. Don’t start group, a blog, a cause, forum, etc. etc. if you don't plan to keep it up. You're wasting energy and clogging brains.
7. PLEASE don't post "awesome to see you last night, you were WASTED!" on someone's wall.
8. Just because you enjoy playing games on facebook doesn't mean your entire list of friends does. Think before you click.
9. If all you do is plug yourself or your company, be prepared to be de-friended.
10. Don't post incredibly personal and depressing status updates… these are ones I've read:

“My son just died in childbirth.”
“My grandpa is in a coma and has two weeks to live”
“I just found out that my boyfriend is cheating on me”

While we sympathize with these folks, the social networking sphere is not the medium to share this type of information, right?

Where does the line get drawn? I know you've got a rule for the list, add it in the comments!


Oh hi! Jill Thixton here, of IndyHub's fabulous question and answer forum, 'You don't know Jack.' Jack is my dog. You'll meet later. What makes me an accredited advice columnist? Not much. I'm not a doctor. I'm not even a writer. I have a degree in apparel merchandising and marketing. Yes, fashion merchandising Ala Elle Woods. I've ventured down several career paths and I'm only 29. My family and friends are a lil' nuts and have exposed me to way more interesting life situations than one would imagine possible in Indianapolis. So, it gives me loads to analyze. So why on earth would you want to hear what i have to say? I have no idea, but I'm going to hop on the soap box and roll with it.