Thursday, January 31, 2013

Procrastinators' Year in Review - Link Up!

It's the last day of the first month of this year and you know what that means...

Time to celebrate last year!

If that doesn't make sense to you, you're probably not a procrastinator. But you should link up anyway.


Link up your favorite post that you wrote in 2012 or link up a favorite post that you read in 2012. Most importantly, please visit as many blogs as you can and show them some love! Want to know what inspired this most fabulous idea? Read here.

The linky is open until February 4th...so don't procrastinate too long!



Wednesday, January 23, 2013

In Which No One Wants A Hug

The other day I went to a meeting. The attendees are all Very Important People in the community.

And then there's me.

I'm not exactly sure who decided I should be a part of this illustrious group that meets monthly, but I get paid to be there, so whatever. Please don't take my ambivalence to mean I don't contribute. Because I do. I nod my head vigorously and knit my brows together, giving the appearance that I'm paying attention and giving thoughtful consideration to what's being said. But really, I'm thinking who the hell are these people that I've met no less than eight times?

On the way to the meeting, I ran into a fellow attendee. She is someone - whose name I actually remember! - I know in only the strictest professional sense. We are polite. Cordial, even. But we are not chummy.

So it makes perfect sense that the following took place.

We say hello to each other.


And then she extends her arm.

Which I naturally take to mean she wants to hug me. I mean, sure I think it's weird. After all, we're polite. Cordial, even. But definitely not chummy. Certainly not huggers. Then I think, maybe she's resolved to give more hugs this year. Not wanting to be the one who stands in the way of her fulfilling her New Year's Resolutions,

I...

Lean...

In...

I'm getting closer. It's almost time for our hug. And then I see her face.

And so it occurs to me...
I stand up straight, clear my throat, straighten my jacket and follow her gaze to the door we are standing in front of.
That door has been there the whole time. I bet you guys didn't even see it. Don't feel bad. I didn't see it either. But this woman, who I know in a strictly professional sense, did see it and was extending her arm to open the door to the stairwell. She was not trying to give me a hug because of course she wasn't.

I followed her up the stairs and into the meeting room where I sat very far away from her.

I spent the next hour nodding vigorously and knitting my brows together, giving the appearance that I was paying attention and giving thoughtful consideration to what was being said. But really, I was trying to telepathically jedi mind-trick her into forgetting what happened.

I don't think it worked, and I'm pretty sure that's the last time Very Important People will invite me to anything.

Don't forget to join me on January 31st for...
The Procrastinators' Year in Review!
I'm hosting a linky open to all bloggers. Link up one or two of your favorite posts from 2012 and/or link up one of your most favorite posts of another blogger! And please, spread the word so we can meet lots of new bloggy friends!
The date again is January 31st, because what better day to celebrate last year than on the last day of the first month of this year!

Comment gem!

...what better day to celebrate last year than on the last day of the first month of this year... Sounds logical.... um... I like that. I myself like spending money. I totally suck at saving money, so I'll just take your excellent advice and do what I'm really good at. I mean, last week I bought two suits in under a minute. Under a minute! I'll do it. I'll save the economy all by myself, and it will all be thanks to you. :)

Thursday, January 17, 2013

I Resolve to Be Better at Being Terrible

I don't make New Year's Resolutions. I'm good enough at failing without resolving to do so.

If you ask me, the whole concept of resolutions, at the new year or otherwise, is flawed. People resolve to end bad habits, make better choices, live healthier lives. They are aiming to do things they are terrible at doing. It's no wonder they fail.

If I did make new year's resolutions, I would resolve to be better at things I am already good at.

Like procrastination.

Spend three hours doinking (favorite word I just made up) around on the internet and then do laundry? I'm already excellent at that. But can I spend four hours doinking before cleaning my clothes? I'm pretty sure I can. And if I fail all that happens is that I have clean clothes sooner. If I succeed, I've met my goal, gained a tremendous sense of accomplishment and the husband gets to learn how to fashion a pair of underwear out of an old t-shirt.

Everybody wins.

I love eating. I am very good at eating. Which is great thing because apparently my hand and mouth have resolved to EAT MORE FOOD this year. You see, if you resolve to do things you are already good at, you may end up doing them accidentally, which makes you feel extra successful and awesome. Except, you know, when you can no longer button your pants and get winded walking up a flight of three stairs. Minor details.

As 2012 came to a close, I began looking through some of my blog posts from the year and came up with a brilliant beyond brilliant idea. I should do a bloggy year in review where I share some of my favorite posts from the year in one blog post!

*everyone faints from excitement*

But then! I went one step further and thought, I should do a linky where other bloggers can post their favorite post or two from the year and it can be a great way to find new bloggers or read posts that we may have missed from some of our favorite bloggers! (That actually makes me sound more noble than I really am. Yes, I want you guys to connect with other bloggers. But in truth I was motivated by more selfish reasons. There are so many great blogs out there that it's impossible for me to keep up with them all. A linky would be a great way to check out some of the greats I'm not aware of.)

I was incredibly proud of my idea and I promptly did nothing with it. (Please reference procrastination mentioned above.)

But now! Now is the time. Seventeen days after the start of the new year I am announcing...

The Procrastinators' Year in Review!

Two weeks from now, on January 31st I will be hosting a linky open to all bloggers. Link up one or two of your favorite posts from 2012 and/or link up one of your most favorite posts of another blogger! And please, spread the word so we can meet lots of new bloggy friends!
The date again is January 31st, because what better day to celebrate last year than on the last day of the first month of this year!


Comment gem!

One time, some creeper who clearly had a foot fetish kept telling me I had pretty feet. In the golf aisle. At Wal-Mart. And I was about 5 months pregnant. My feet couldn't have been that pretty. Ew.

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

You Don't Know What You Got Til It's Gone

You know what I miss? Cheesy pick up lines. I hate to say it, but I just don’t think they exist anymore.

And it’s our fault, ladies. We put too much pressure on men. Our standards are too high. It’s not enough that we expect them to be attractive, and smell good, and dress nice, and have a good job, and be funny. We also demand that the first thing they say to us ever be original. And witty. One, maybe two sentences that convey they are highly intelligent, yet have a sense of humor and know how to have a good time. Heck, if their come-on isn’t downright ingenious, we won’t even let them buy us a drink. No matter how much we like free alcohol.

Shame on us, ladies. Shame. On. Us. We didn’t know how good we had it. We didn’t know how bad it could get.

Gone are the days when a guy will toss out, “You must be tired. Because you’ve been running through my mind all day.”

But you know what? He’s right. I am tired. Tired of running away from creeps with pick up lines nothing short of psychotic.

You guys remember the dude who tried to ask me out using a large bird statue? That was bizarre at best, and, not surprisingly, it didn’t make me want to leave the husband and run off and make gargantuan bird babies with Fowl-Man. But as far as pick-up attempts go, that was mere bird seed compared to the gentleman who thought accusing me of being a cold-blooded killer would be the way to my, apparently murderous, heart.

About a week prior to the bird incident, I was at the liquor store (up until this day known as the happiest place on earth) purchasing two bottles of champagne for a Christmas brunch I was attending the next morning.

There were three people in front of me in line. The cashier delighted in having a very long conversation with the person she was checking out. Normally, this would have sent my impatience into overdrive, but I had just learned of the Sandy Hook tragedy a few hours earlier. If the worst thing that happens to me in life is waiting a little longer in line, then I will do it gladly.

I got out my phone and began the twitter, facebook, blog, email rounds. After a minute or two, I glanced up to see if the line had moved. It hadn’t. Cashier was still talking away.  The guy in front of me (who was purchasing a case of Busch Lite, in case anyone was wondering) thought this would be a perfect opportunity to turn to me and say, “Please don’t bash her in the head with your bottles.”

Uh, what?!?!???!?!

Surely I had heard him wrong. But he said it again.

“Please don’t bash her in the head with your bottles. You’ve got that look in your eye.” He turned to his friend, who was in front of him in line (also purchasing a case of Busch Lite), with a look that was all, heh heh, look at me, I’m talking to her.

I was beyond stunned. Seriously, dude? You’re hitting on me by telling me I look like someone who wants to assault, if not, murder another human being? That’s seven kinds of disturbing and I want nothing to do with you. 

I returned to my phone, occasionally glancing up to see if the line had moved. Every time I did, he’d start to say something to me. But I must have had that look in my eye – you know, the one that conveys I want to bash someone over the head with champagne bottles – because he shut his mouth and turned away.

Is this really what this world has come to? Pick up lines meant for serial killers and bird bangers?

Thanks, but no.

Just once, I’d like to be at the grocery store and have a guy ask me, “Come here often?” Because then I could say, “Yes. Yes, I do come here often, but I still don’t know where the frozen meatballs are. I’ve looked everywhere. Can you help me? And no, meatballs aren’t a euphemism for your meat and balls. I want actual meatballs. Mini ones. For my crockpot. And no, crockpot isn’t a euphemism for my vagina. And by the way, I’m happily married so please don’t take my asking for your help to mean I want to go out with you. I don’t. I don’t even want to continue talking to you. I’d actually really like for you to go away before I continue talking about my vagina with a total stranger. But not before you help me find the meatballs. Oh, and by the way. Thanks for the tired, cheesy, lame pick-up line. I really appreciate it.”

I realize that in that scenario someone still ends up looking like a crazy person. But that someone? Is me. A woman. Women are allowed to be crazy. In fact, we’re kinda supposed to be. But men? Men are supposed to be cheesy. And attractive, and smell good, and dress nice, and have a good job, and be funny.

And above all, know where the darn meatballs are!

No wonder this country is in disarray. We have gotten our gender roles confused. We, as a nation, will not survive if this continues. But fear not! Now that I have identified the problem and its solution, I’m going to get busy drafting a letter to the President citing the restoration of cheesy come-ons as the way to returning America to its former glory.

But first, let me ask you: Do you have a map? Cuz I keep getting lost in your eyes.

Tell me, what's your favorite cheesy pick-up line?

Comment gem!

I feel like you missed an important part of that pig search, in that the person felt the need to qualify "Pig..*the animal*...". As opposed to "Pig the Persian rug".

 

Sunday, January 6, 2013

You Googled What?! - New Year, Same Craziness

Many people enter the new year with a renewed sense of hope, conviction or determination that this year will be their year. The year when anything is possible, the year when dreams come true, the year when they will not sift through the dirty clothes, smell the armpits of a shirt and determine it's clean enough to wear to that important business meeting.

But for other people, the new year is filled with uncertainty. They are consumed with questions. So many important questions. Where did we come from? Why are we here? Does my urine smell funny to you?

Where do these inquisitive folks turn for answers? Why none other than Google, of course.

That's right, it's time for 2013's very first edition of You Googled What?!


Can you thaw a turkey on a balcony?
Can you thaw it in a box? Can you thaw it with a fox? 

Wanna play hide the salami?
I feel like this is a trick question. 

I don't like people shout at me, be careful with your words.
Looks like you’re the one who should be careful with her words cuz you’re missing one. 

charolettes writes asshole in web
That Charlotte and her shenanigans! 

i love you cow
So much romance in 2013. 

Spider with a penis
No. Just, no.

Estrogen makes me happy
Huh. It makes me a raving lunatic.

Why do they cram turkey neck in its ass?
I'm guessing it has to do with the general lack of respect we have for turkeys in this country.

Boss is a twat 
Maybe offer her some estrogen?

Is ranting good for you? 
I sure hope so, because I do it. A lot.

Big fat pig the animal saying what do you mean your out of icecream?
It's 2013. Pigs have learned how to talk, we haven't figured out how NOT to run out of ice cream, and we still don't know the correct usage of your/you're. The future looks grim, you guys.

Why are people so obsessed with chevron?
People love gasoline, I guess. Oh wait... You mean the other kind? Yeah, I don't know.

"while you were reading this" I farted 
I'm guessing you did this while shopping at Walmart.

Phil Collins what is he doing in 2012
 If I had to guess, he’s feeling it coming in the air tonight.

Comment gem!

Tell the truth, did you touch his bird?