Personal Grievance

ATTN: Local ABC Affiliate

I don't know you personally, so you may not have been briefed. There is one hour of television every week that is not to be interrupted for anything. No news briefs, no fires, no emergencies, no natural disasters can keep me from being glued to the television set from 8-9 PM on Wednesday nights for my weekly dose of Lost. Except last night, you decided it was smart to take up 5 MINUTES of my show to inform me of the rain I could already hear outside and the possible tornadoes in the suburbs, far away from where I live. Thank God you put that tiny little square of live picture from the Lost episode in the corner of the screen because it is so useful to be able to SEE what I am missing when all the characters are doing is sitting there TALKING about something that I can't HEAR, especially on a show like Lost where the dialogue is so important to figuring out what is going on. This live video box only served to mock me. Thank you, Tim Heller, for going on and on about the possible tornadoes when a warning strip on the bottom of the screen would have sufficed and avoided corrupting the flow of the episode. Or would it have been too hard to do this little update during a commercial break? I mean God forbid I miss another commercial for dogfood or erectile dysfunction or something.

Lucky for you, Lost episodes are online the next day, so I can view the portion of which I was robbed. But this isn't over, ABC affiliate.

Bluebonnets: No Longer Just Eye Candy

Here's a neat tidbit for you: apparently picking bluebonnets in Texas is NOT illegal. It's possible you already knew this and are now laughing at my expense. But I have been living under the false assumption for my whole life that it is a crime to pick the sacred Texas flower, punishable by a ticket (OR DEATH). I guess it was just a rumor someone started to keep the kids out of their bluebonnet patch, I don't know. But I feel like I have heard this so many places, from so many people that there is no way it could not be true. It's like my walls are crashing in on me. The moral code I have lived by for years has immediately been turned on its head. Suddenly I feel compelled to go pick a bluebonnet, JUST BECAUSE I CAN.


Also, I bought a couch!! I am very excited to be getting nice, new furniture (not passed down from 20 previous owners) like a true adult. I feel like I am finally leaving the "college student" stage of life- having roommates, hand me downs, crazy spastic sleeping schedules and such. Yes folks, I have reached that point where household objects make me squeal- "Couch! I have a couch!". I have not yet decided if this is super exciting or incredibly scary.

Leapin' Leprechauns!

Happy St. Patrick's Day! I would like to take this opportunity to list some Irish things (and some, more accurately, Irish inspired things) I think make the world a better place.

1. Baileys Irish Cream: You. Complete me.

2. Lucky Charms: Marshmallows!!! In my cereal!?!?! EVEN BETTER!!!

3. Liam Neeson: He's just friggin cool.

4. Blarney Stone: a stone in Blarney Castle, near Cork in Ireland, that is said to give the power of persuasive talk to people who kiss it. Also, fun to say.

5. Leprechauns: Creepy little buggers, but they do make one hell of a movie (and an endless line of sequels, including this gem).

6. Riverdance: As Chandler on Friends put it, "his legs flail about, as if independent from his body!"

So go kick back, drink some green beer, dance a jig and pick a four leaf clover.

Movin' On Up

Well, tomorrow is the big day. I am finally moving into a one bedroom of my very own. I have never lived alone. I went from Mom, Dad and sister, to just Mom and Dad, to college with a slew of random roommates, to the city with my current roommate. I am excited, nervous, and a little nostalgic at the same time. But mostly, I am just ready to be done packing and moving. I may have to live in this apartment until I die, because I am pretty sure my will to move is running thin. I can't imagine having to move EVER AGAIN. But I do not want to die alone as an old cat lady, so here's hoping I move at least ONE more time, into a house someday with a husband. Please.

Moving Woes

I think I always block this part of moving out. The packing. The endless packing. It's like my things are multiplying before my eyes. Everytime I fill a box, 40 billion new things I didn't even know I owned jump out, ready to be packed, and eager to mock me. Which is my lame excuse for not posting an actual post. But here are some creepy pictures from my recent travels to entertain.

Don't look directly at that doll in the middle. I am pretty sure her eyes were following me the entire time I stood in line at the register.

Now back to packing/death.

Performance Review

Tomorrow is my bi-annual performance review at work. So I had to create my standard "list of goals [I swear I will work on] for the next 6 months." My friend tried to help:

1. Don't punch boss in face.
2. Get drunk everyday.
3. Punch boss while drinking. (I know that contradicts rule #1, but rules were made to be broken- especially performance review rules. Sometimes you should just start screaming at random just so your boss knows you are capable of really going nuts if you want to. Keep em on their toes.)

I like the way he thinks. But I am pretty sure it would get me fired and/or hauled off by men in white coats.

Attack of the Trolls.

Does anyone remember those creepy troll things we used to play with? Why did I ever want one of these? Why did my mother let me play with them? Why would someone think to market these? I mean, seriously- how creepy are they?

I'm not sure what made me think of this, but it reminds me of other toys kids should never be allowed to play with. Scissors, plastic wrap, fire- all things to avoid. But add to the list: Furbees and Bratz Dolls.

Offender #1: Furbees. OK, who ever thought these were cute? They actually remind me a little too much of gremlins, a series of movies which horrified me as a child and have scarred me for life. Maybe that is my issue with them. Or perhaps it's the fact that they talk to you. And their mouths move. And they are creepy. And they might kill you in your sleep.

Offender #2: Bratz Dolls. Are we attempting to raise our children as hoochie mamas? I don't know which part is more offensive: their abnormally large heads, the fact that they spell brats with a "z", their stripper pole wardrobe, or the general insinuation that it is "cool" to be a brat. They are ugly and stupid.

I'm sure I missed some other equally creepy toys, so let me know.

You Can't Return Perfume!!

It is my belief that people are about 95% oblivious to the things happening around them at all times. Don't hold me to that exact percentage- I haven't performed any scientific studies, but based on my visual findings over the years and my trip to Ulta today, I am fairly certain this percentage is pretty darn close.

So I am waiting in what seems like the longest line ever known at Ulta (there was a run on Biolage products, the brand of shampoo and conditioner I use- Buy 2 get 2 free!!! Quick- run to your nearest Ulta!). At first I didn't notice the offending party at the register because the women in front of me were having a particularly funny conversation about last night's episode of the Bachelor and how they would have slapped and/or physically assaulted him for his transgressions {!!SPOILER ALERT!!} (SIDE NOTE- can you BELIEVE he dumped Melissa, that poor sweet girl, on national television, 6 weeks after proposing to her? What's that you say? They signed up for their own public humiliation and loss of dignity? Still- it had to be done on TV? BURN. And pretty heartless.) Anyway, 5 minutes passes and the line hasn't budged. This is when I notice "I didn't bring my receipt but you OWE me because I am special and deserve a refund anyway, even though you have clearly stated repeatedly that there are no returns on perfume without receipts" woman. As the line grows and grows, she calls the manager over to explain this policy to her in perhaps different [note: the SAME] words that she can better understand. Ten minutes later, the manager seemed to have lost all hope of convincing this woman anything, and kindly let her return it. Then she stood there for another 5 minutes being slow about everything & asking a million asinine questions. At this point there were at least 10 people behind me. Now I will say Ulta should have had more people running the registers & perhaps a less stringent policy on perfume returns, but good grief woman! Be aware! At least make an effort to move it along! Some of us only have 1 hour for lunch and no time for your lollygagging.

Barefoot Jimmy

So my friend M was telling me a story this weekend about his trip up to his old college town for a reunion with people that lived in his dorm. Apparently, there was one guy there who went by the name Barefoot Jimmy. Why Barefoot Jimmy you ask? Here was our conversation. I apologize if it isn't as funny in print as it was in person.

M: So I got to see Barefoot Jimmy this weekend.

Me: Who is Barefoot Jimmy? What is a Barefoot Jimmy?

M: Oh well you know how some people are really really smart so God has to balance it out by making them a little weird and socially awkward? That's Barefoot Jimmy. Barefoot Jimmy has not worn shoes in 10 years.

Me: [Incredulous look of horror] I'm sorry WHAT?

M: Yeah, he never wears shoes, no matter where he goes.

Me: [Blank stare] That is disgusting! Tell me more about Barefoot Jimmy.

M: Well, Barefoot Jimmy is just a little weird. He used to sit outside when it was freezing cold in only shorts and a short-sleeved shirt. He told me once that he was able to control his body temperature with his mind.

Someday, I want to meet Barefoot Jimmy.