Category: Top 250 Feelings

It’s really not that hard, is it? It’s right there, at the bottom of all those incessant promotional e-mails, some you remember “signing up” for, others you have no idea what you did to get in that company’s crosshairs.

But the bottom line is that bottom… line, isn’t it? That little guy, often times hidden, in smaller font that says “Unsubscribe”. All you’ve got to do is click on it, follow a few small steps, and it’s out of your hair for good. And yet, what do we often do?

Nothing.

Maybe it’s because G-Mail’s new-ish Primary/Social/Promotions division of labor has made it so that you aren’t nearly as bothered by that bullshit as you once were*. I’d still wager heavily on it being a product of you (or me) being a lazy ass.

Like most people, I get anywhere from seven to seventeen times the amount of junk e-mail as I do regular stuff. Eventually, even I get to a breaking point and start unsubscribin’ like a mo-fo.

Today, dear friends, was that day, and the extra room in that inbox feels great.

Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: When you think you’ve cleared enough out, only to realize that somehow even more marketing companies have your e-mail address and will flood your inbox until you either give up and let it happen, or pass away.

*If you aren’t using G-Mail for your personal e-mail, shame on you, for real.

I try to keep a generally healthy lifestyle. I don’t overindulge in fast food or ice cream or cakes. Sure, I’ve been known to have my Sour Patch Kid fixes, gone for days from my job and apartment only to be discovered in frazzled haze, dusted with sour sugar flakes behind the Walgreen’s on Washington Street… but that’s another story for another day.

The point of all this is to say that, while I do like to make certain efforts to keep healthy, I can’t pretend that I don’t indulge in eating some stuff that can’t be classified as anything other than garbage. Sure, it’s not actual trash but it might as well be. You know, going in, that it’s not a great idea, but you can’t resist.

And that, in fact, is the funniest part. Only the actual eating of said horseshit makes you feel good. No one feels good on line at Popeye’s, or when they’re throwing away that little paper box, grease having made it’s mark on the sides. It’s only while consumption is occurring, not for a minute more or less. That ought to say something, no?

But, shit… those moments when you are ripping apart a tender, wolfing down a mini-burger, slurping down a soda… not much better than those.

Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: The exact moment you finish, and you know you’re probably going to need cous cous or some salad-type shit for the next three meals just to put yourself back in balance.

Don’t fear it. Seriously, trust me… Just try it once, if you haven’t already, and you’ll never want to go back with another human.

Think of the benefits… You don’t have to talk to anyone, you don’t have to explain any of the plot to anyone, it costs half as much (no more dates to the movies, enough already), you can go to whatever showing of whatever movie you like at whatever theater is most convenient to YOU… There’s really no downside.

It’s not like a sporting event or a meal, things that generally work better in the company of others. The whole idea of the movie, the reason you’re in that huge, dark room is to drown out anything other than that enormous screen in front of you.

So, next time the urge hits you to see a movie… Don’t ask anyone if they are free. Don’t text anyone. Don’t make any calls. Just find the next time you are free and where the movie is playing most conveniently for you. Set that time aside, go to the movie, and enjoy.

You are welcome

Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: Man, there’s so many. How about being forced to see some nonsense your significant other wants to see, but you’d never watch if it was LITERALLY the only thing on TV during an immobilizing storm. Or, being at the movies and being surrounded by people (namely, women in this case) who can’t stop asking the people with them to help explain every twist and turn as if the person(s) with them had received an advanced copy of the script.

Every month, like most folks, I get a bill for my cable and internet. For the purpose of this exercise, let’s call the company that provides those services “Optimum”*

After a year of a “promotional” rate, a letter arrived in the mail explaining that while the previous promotion had run out, they had already put me on a rate that (once I did the math) put me in the same price range.

Then, of course, the bill comes, and it’s about 30 dollars more. I look it over and at first, nothing shouts out to me as egregious (dollar here, ninety cents there… nothing too serious). A few scrolls down, however, and I saw it–the phone portion of the “Triple Play”* had gone from $15 to $30. On its face, that’s not a lot of money, but when you consider that we don’t even own a home phone, it’s pretty significant to double the price of something we don’t even use. The only reason we even added it in the first place was because I was told it would save us money.

So, naturally, I call “Optimum”. I was expecting the usual routine. I verify my details, explain my situation, they explain how promotions work, I explain how I don’t use the phone, they make up some nonsensical bullshit about bundling packages, I again explain how devices can’t work if you don’t even own them, they say they’re sorry to hear this, I fake-threaten to go to Verizon, they ask what they can do, I tell them they can lower my bill, they say they’ll see what they can do and then go on hold for 90-120 seconds and return with the news they knew they could deliver the whole time.

Usually, that’s how it (generally speaking) goes. It’s exhausting and annoying.

This time, I basically went from step one to the end, right away. I told the guy that I wanted to discuss my bill, verifying my information. He said, let me put you on hold and look at your account. Maybe a minute and a half later, he returned, told me he could take $15 off my bill, would that be alright? I said yes, he asked if there was anything else I needed, I said no, and we both hung up.

I stared at the phone for a good five minutes after I hung up, amazed at how painless that was. He knew what I wanted, didn’t need to hear the specifics, and skipped all the bullshit. Good on you, “Optimum” employee.

Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: God, how much time do we have? Staying on hold forever with these people, dealing with the morons they often employee, discussing this shit ad naseum with someone that acts like I’m asking for the nuclear codes and there’s simple nothing they can do to help.

 

*That’s just a guess, I honestly don’t know the name of the company. But, as they all basically operate in the same fashion, it doesn’t really matter.

**Again, just a guess as to what they might call a combination of phone, internet and television “bundled” together to save you money even though you do not use one of the three. At all.

 

I’m not really a technological whiz. In fact, that’s probably being kind. The smartphone I have now (up until recently I called it an internet phone) is the first one I’ve ever owned (and I’ve only had it now for two years).

Despite my resistance to technology (honestly, it’s any site where people get too over-sharey), I can’t deny that this shit, generally speaking, is fucking incredible. It’s time-saving, life-changing shit we’re talking about.

I could go on and on about how and why that is, but you already know. The point of this is that usually (unless you’re my older brother and get the new model each and every time it comes out) when you’re getting a new phone, it’s been quite a while. You’re still rocking the Mesozoic era device and they’ve since rolled out three new models and six new system upgrades. You’re unsure what any of that means, but it suffices to say your battery is garbage and you can’t use Tinder without your device crashing—it’s time for a new one.

And so, you willingly enter your nightmare—your local wireless retailer—and plunk down at least $75 to return home with the shiniest of shiny new toys.

Once all the syncing and upgrading and account verifying and payment has been done, here you are… You’re new phone, nay, you’re new life awaits. And it’s just that… NEW. It’s new, it’s exciting. Everything from setting up your ringtone (if you’re still in middle school) to figuring out how to take a screenshot (something I still don’t know how to do on my phone).

Enjoy it.

Polar Opposite of This Feeling?: The period that comes a month (maybe sooner) later when you stop caring about the new phone, and treat it like the old, regular, uninteresting one you used to have and similarly didn’t care if it fell on the ground because who gives a shit about scratching the case anyway, right?

Since I was a kid, following sports (specifically basketball, baseball and football–probably in that order) has been one of the things I did most (best? Man, that’s sad how true that may be).

I’d play the video games, watch the real games, read the articles and books, debate with friends, play in fantasy leagues–hell I even went to school to try to get a job talking about sports for a living (I’ve now work in sports television… really exploring the limits of my creativity, I know).

So, you could then rightly imagine that a decent amount of my discourse (although, admittedly, less as I’ve gotten older) finds itself centered around some sort of sports discussion. And, what’s more, you could imagine that I find myself surrounded with similar minded folks (read: sports nerds like myself).

All that said, we’re all so talked/debated-out when it comes to sports, that a true, good ol’ debate isn’t as common as you’d think. I’m talking about two people, two different opinions, two good arguments and two personalities that don’t particularly enjoy being wrong.

Now, I should clarify, this isn’t necessarily a shouting match (in fact, it hopefully isn’t). It’s more that it’s a meeting of two people who fall in-step conversationally and informationally, and a good debate is sparked.

Of course, it’s the most fun when you win.

(BTW, for those of you that can’t stand sports… sub in whatever it is you spend your time talking/thinking about… Politics? Organic food? Working out? Go nuts..)

Polar Opposite of This Feeling?: Thinking you’re in one of these guys, and then realizing that the other person is, in fact, a nincompoop.

Everyone’s got a hobby. Some people love guitars, others collect random shit, some of you love museums and art. Sometimes it’s rare–you’re a record collector and you can’t seem to find that one B-side you’re looking for—and other times it’s as simple as passing by the local antique place and taking a look around.Point is, everyone has that one thing (whether or not it’s a store, item, place, whatever) that will get them to stop and take a look when they pass it.

For me, not so shockingly, it’s a pretty juvenile pursuit… Sour Cherry Coke candy. Since I had my first one, I was hooked. I think part of my on-going fascination with the treat is it’s incredible rarity. Over the last decade plus, I’ve been unable to find this treat stateside (I’m excluding the ability to buy it on Amazon, because that’s no fun… having candy just delivered to your house… how pathetic)

I’ve found it in candy stores in London (where I know Haribo actually still sells it), in Toronto and Amsterdam as well. Each time, it’s been more amazing than the previous. Of course, I love the candy, but I think I love finding it more than anything else.

Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: Someone thinking they found me the candy somewhere, and it turns out being this. Not a bad replacement, but not the real thing. Not at all.

I’ll just tell you off the top—I fucking hate New Year’s Eve. I never am doing the right thing. If I’m with family, I’m annoyed I’m not with my friends. If I’m with friends, I wish I was with my family. If I’m with a girl, I wonder why I’m not with either of the two previous groups. It’s never as fun or as drunk or as long or as cheap as you hope it will be… or it’s exactly the opposite of some of those and it’s just as bad. And don’t even get me started on all the sentimentality of the entire event..

So yeah, I’m not a fan.

More than the “holiday”, I think I hate the barrage of “Happy New Year!” wishes you get for a seemingly endless period of time after the actual evening more than the actual evening.

Days, weeks (and in some cases, months) will pass and you’ll still get that person that wants to say “Happy New Year!”, or that e-mail sign off with the same (or, the e-mail that starts of with “Hope you had a great New Year’s!”).  Enough, already.

So, this feeling is for that moment when everyone collectively agrees: WE ARE DONE SAYING THIS. LET’S MOVE ON.

Polar Opposite of This Feeling?: That previous set of days/weeks.

I’ve become one of those guys that almost never ties his sneakers. Most of the kicks I wear were tied when I first purchased them, the laces tucked securely behind the tongue and out of view of the general public. I slip in, I slip out. It’s a pretty mutually beneficial relationship, I think at least.

However, when it comes to the sneaks (how many synonyms can we go through in this little guy, huh?) I use for working out or playing basketball, eventually this strategy falls flat. Despite my best efforts, I ultimately will have to be an adult and actually tie the basketball boots (ding, 4) instead of slipping in like a fourth grader wearing these.

And while I’m usually annoyed at the effort, the result is fantastic. You go from slack and sort of uncomfortable to tight and crisp in an instant. It’s that moment when I think—hey, you should tie your footwear more frequently—then, of course, I snap back to reality and realize that the cool kids don’t lace up tight.

But, it felt good while it lasted.

Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: The overdone lace-up. It’s so fucking tight, you might as well have sprained your ankle.