Ian and I were Watching “The Price Is Right”

And it dawned on me: for some of these people, appearing on this show is perhaps the highlight of their existence. If you asked them to name memorable days in their lives, sure they’d probably list their wedding day, birth of their children, maybe graduating from school of some sort, but you bet your sweet ass “spinning that big old wheel” would be up at the top of their list of memorable moments.

And then there’s the folks who, upon winning a china hutch or a trip to Arkansas or something, burst into tears and thank Jesus for their good fortune. I hate to burst their bubble, but I have a sneaking suspicion that there is a great possibility that Jesus was not involved in this transaction.

I’ve never understood fanatical devotion to any celebrity of sorts. I would not have cried or screamed had I been in the audience of the Ed Sullivan show when the Beatles made their legendary appearance. There is no person I can think of that meeting them would reduce me to tears. Does this make me a cynic? Or is it just the WASPY side of me moderating my enthusiasm? I’m not sure, but I do somehow feel a sense of superiority when I view these strangers being reduced to tears by a game show. Maybe I’m just an asshole. I suppose that’s a possibility.

Re: My Father’s Sense of Humor

It was 1999 or 2000, right around the time the lovely ballad “Who Let the Dogs Out” was gracing the airwaves. I was in my room, home on a break from college, talking to Ian on the phone. We had an intercom in our old house, one that my parents used mostly to spy on me because they were convinced I was constantly Up to Something.

My father, via intercom: “Hey, are you talking to Ian?”

Me: “Yes, I am.”

Dad: “Tell him I have something important I need to tell him.”

Me: “(Sigh) My father has something important he needs to tell you. What did you need to tell him, Dad?”

Dad: “Tell him, I LET THE DOGS OUT.”

Me: “That’s great, Dad. Can I go back to my conversation now?”

Dad: “Okay.”

This? Is What the Internet is for.

I put this on my Tumblr but I couldn’t help but reblog because it’s just too good.

I’m a Sellout.

When folks started creating tumblogs, I wasn’t quite sure what the point was. But, I have relented and am finding it’s an interesting place to post all the stuff I find on the interwebs without clogging up my Facebook feed, or having to send a bunch of link-filled Tweets.

So, yeah. A Tumblr page.

Redacted

Enjoy. Comment. Follow. Etc.

Today’s Hottest Hits!

You know those pop music compilations they advertise for on TV? Like MegaSuperHits Volume Eleventy Billion? I was thinking today, if you were to make a MegaSUPERHits Volume Twelvety Billion, composed of sound bytes from my life that are most often uttered and or heard, it could be interesting.

The Super Hot Hot Hits would include

“What do you want to do about dinner?”
“No, it’s not time for your walk yet, so stop bugging me.”
“Did you use up all the toilet paper and not put a new roll on?”
“Why are all the lights on upstairs?”
“Did you get the mail?”
“Dear God, I have so much homework.”
“Charlie! Leave it!”
“Did you just fart on me?”

Again, my life? Pageant. Splendiforous.

PS- Thanks to those who read the previous post. I know it was a departure from my usual brand of crazy, but I’m proud of myself for putting it up there.

On Reacting Appropriately

Driving home from picking up some dinner, I saw a young-ish girl, who looked about 16 to me, and thus was probably 11, narrowly avoid getting run over by a very large red van. She was walking through the intersection (she had a walk sign, I should note) eating a cupcake when the van made a right turn and came about 2 inches from hitting her. She was understandably pissed, screamed a few obscenities at the guy and in a fit of rage hurled the remainder of her cupcake at his windshield, which splattered crumbs and icing all over his hood in a satisfying squish. Here’s what went on in my head while this happened:
“Oh, My God, he’s going to hit that girl!”
“Oh, thank God, he missed her!”

“OH MY GOD, NOT THE CUPCAKE!”

It’s amazing I have any friends at all

me: I also would like to confess that I kind of want to see High School Musical 3.
I am a bad person.
4:33 PM Jessica: have you seen the first two?
me: Um. No.
sigh
yes
I’m full of shame
4:34 PM Jessica: oh. are they real movies, or disney channel movies? i have never figured that part out.
me: The first 2 were disney channel movies
this one is a real movie
and I hate myself even more for knowing that
4:35 PM I just might have the first 2 on my laptop.
Maybe.
Jessica: oh ok
hahaha
me: I am full of shame and tortilla chips
me: My burps taste like salsa and regret

For Some Reason

I can’t stop watching this clip. Joel McHale even looks good in a bunny suit. Dayum.

The one with the blog

So, we’ve started TIVOing Friends reruns lately, and I have to say, though it may sound lame, I find I am much better able to relate to the characters now that I am a 20-something myself. Bad jobs, being broke, feeling like you have no idea what you’re doing with your life: all of this was somewhat lost to me when I watched the show in High School. I mean, why does no one warn you when you go off to college that once you are done with college, your life is pretty much going to be a succession of bad apartments, bad jobs, and a drastic decrease of actual funtimes until you’ve toiled long enough to get a better apartment, better job, and have enough money to actually buy yourself some fun?

You know, they say money can’t buy happiness but I don’t think being happy and being rich are mutually exclusive. I mean, we ate at Chipotle last night, which is enjoyable and all, but you know why, specifically we chose to eat there? Because WE HAD A COUPON. I am now making decisions based on whether or not I have a coupon. Before you know it I’ll be making weird casseroles out of leftovers and spending an hour on Sunday afternoons clipping coupons. So, basically I’ll be my grandmother. Maybe I should start eating dinner at 4 PM also.

Your face, would you please shut it

So, I had a big day planned today. There were facial masks, deep conditioners for my hair, which was approaching Scarecrow territory, manis and pedis and a full afternoon of girl time while Ian was at the theatre.

And everytime I take a shower, if I’m in the house by myself, Charlie has an ANEURYSM. Because, apparently, while I am upstairs showering, downstairs, in the living room THE WORLD IS ENDING and OHMYLORD why am I not running to his aid while he makes the most annoying noises in the world?