you don't wanna mess with me

You know a day is not going the way you'd like when you spend twenty minutes of your precious time arguing with your brother about whether 2Pac or Fabolous was responsible for a hiphop song that starts, I can't deny it. We were both right, as it happened, but were thinking of different songs. 2Pac's was the original, but it's not the one I hear more frequently. That's when the bro-seph got all superior on my a$$, and started in with the "Well, I listen to hip-hop radio stations a lot more than you." Yeah, well, I guess my ears were just lying to me when I listened to the song on iTunes, attributed to one Fabolous, and recognized it as the one I was referencing.

If there is one thing that someone can do to send me from zero to a hundred in the blink of an eye, it's to be condescending. Granted, I am an idiot, and sometimes it is highly warranted to be skeptical of what I say. I do not mind being challenged, and I do not take offense to arguments. But there is this thing that, in my experience, only men have pulled on me, that just grates. on. my. last. nerve. And that is this dismissive air of "whatever, you're wrong."

Now, when it comes to hip-hop songs and artists, I am less likely to get bent out of shape about it, given that my base knowledge of such things is limited. But last week, I got into an argument with a guy who works in technology about the manner in which human viruses evolve. This guy has not taken a biology class since high school, and has not managed to get through the first chapter of Guns, Germs, and Steel, but had no problem with simply saying "that's wrong" to everything I said. Knowing full well that I am studying subjects that should give me some basic knowledge on this particular topic, he could have given me the benefit of the doubt at a minimum, one would think. When someone behaves like that, it is hard not to dismiss them as having a pretty blatant chauvinist streak. Or an abnormally high opinion of himself.

On a lighter note, so that this post is not dripping with angry, there is finally a sign of evidence confirming that being a non-artist puts you at a disadvantage in the dating pool. The funniest line in the article, in my reading, was this:

They surveyed a hundred or so artists and poets, and claim that traits similar to those of schizophrenics explain these people's success with members of the opposite sex.

Granted, this finding is fraught with all kinds of confounders, so the conclusions are shaky. But, it does give weight to my theory that it's a thin line between being appealing and being insane. Which might explain why I do not mind being single.

One other piece of random funny- yesterday, I was walking by a wine store in Noe Valley. Their front overhanging sign changes frequently. Last night it read:

One side: "Is our wine any good?"
Other side: "You bet SHIRAZ"

Yuppy punn-ery. I did not know whether to be amused or roll my eyes. I went for the former.