You are obnoxious, and I hate you.

The other night, I attended a piano concert at BYU. It was sort of pop-y, new-age, religious-y piano music--not classical. Still, I expected the people in the theater to listen, quietly when the pianist was performing. Many people did just that. Most people were polite, well-mannered, considerate of those around them. But not the girl sitting two people to my left. (We'll call her 'TAG' for Totally Annoying Girl.) TAG spent the concert chewing gum, cuddling with her boyfriend, telling her boyfriend which songs she especially liked, laughing out loud when her boyfriend tickled her, explaining the performer's jokes as if someone nearby could not understand them, and (the worst transgression of all) singing along when an arrangement of a song with lyrics was played. No one else was singing along. The pianist on stage wasn't even singing along--it was an instrumental concert. But TAG made sure that everyone around her knew that she knew all the words to "Fools Rush In" and "With or without You." I also knew all the words to those songs (who doesn't?), and I didn't need TAG to remind me of them.

Overall the concert was quite nice, but there were moments when I wanted to take my shoe off and throw it at TAG. It was fortunate for her that her boyfriend (who apparently has no taste in girls) was sitting between us, because had she been sitting directly next to me, I probably would have accidentally stepped on her foot or elbowed her in the face.

I have *three theories about obnoxious theater-goers like TAG:

Rudeness Theory #1: They don't realize they are in public. So they act as if they are at home and are welcome to talk and move and make as much noise as they would like. This is troubling because adults should be aware of when they are at home and when they are in public. Those who cannot tell the difference, should probably see a therapist.

Rudeness Theory #2: They are jerks and don't care whether the people around them enjoy the concert. The most important thing to them is that they personally are allowed to act however they please. These people are incredibly selfish, and their close friends and family should take the time to kick them in the pants once in a while.

Rudeness Theory #3: They think they are entertaining. They think that everyone else actually wants to hear them sing along. These people are delusional and should probably also be put into immediate therapy before they do something to make someone else hurt them.

Really, I think that everyone everyone should work on being quieter, kinder, and more considerate of people around them in the theater. If not, cases of violent 'theater rage' may soon rise.

*There is also a slight possibility that some people are just oblivious to concert (and theater) etiquette. But the chances are so remote that someone could reach college and just not know that you're supposed to be quiet when someone else is up on stage performing, that I cannot elevate this idea to the status of a 'theory.' My use of the very smallest font here, should also indicate the slightness of this possible explanation.

My awesomeness with my car

Late Thursday afternoon, I got out of class and discovered that I had left my car lights on. (This happens occasionally because my car is old, and it doesn't always beep to remind me to turn the lights off when I get out.) I hoped that since I had only been gone an hour and a half the car would still start.

No luck.

So I set out in search of a rescue team.

I tried calling my brother who lives near campus to come jump my car, but he never answers his phone. Then I sat in my car and tried to think of anyone else I knew who lived in Provo and had a car and would be available to come help me: I know no one who fits these qualifications.

So I stood outside--in the snowy cold near-darkness--and waited for some other student to return to their car. And I learned that there is little activity in graduate student parking lot on Thursdays after 4:30. The people that I did see returning to their cars were so far away from me that even if I had sprinted to meet them, they would have been gone by the time I arrived.

Eventually, a male student-type-person came walking toward my section of the parking lot. He was holding keys, so I figured he was going to an actual vehicle and not just passing through. I stopped him, asked if he by chance had jumper cables and could help, and he kindly agreed. Three minutes later I was on my way home.

Saturday morning--like two days later--I went out to my car to go to my cousin's house. I turned the key in the ignition and found that my car was dead. Completely dead. I looked down and noticed that I had left my lights on . . . again.

Fortunately, my dad was home. I told him my car needed to be jumped.

He said, "Wait, didn't your battery just die a few days ago?"

"Yes."

"You really should get that checked. It sounds like your battery has a problem."

"No, dad, it's me. The car battery is fine. It's that car driver that has problems."