Thursday, December 30, 2010
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Me: mom, have any boxes been delivered?
Mom: no i don't think so. i don't see any.
Me: well Chukar Cherries show it being delivered on the track shipment.
Mom: well it's not here. Where did it get delivered?
Me: I don't know. It says it was delivered at 8:56a on Monday.
mom: ya know, I saw a FedEx sticker in my driveway yesterday. or maybe Monday. but i didn't know what it was for.
Me: are you serious right now? You know I'm having boxes delivered and you haven't been on the lookout? It's been TWO days mom.
Mom: well i couldn't read it. i don't even know where it is. I'll have to find it.
Me: fine. bye.
so i call FedEx and they say it was delivered to their address. So I call mom back and we have THIS convo.
me: the package was delivered to your house.
mom: yes it's here.
me: where was it?
mom: i dont know. i don't even know where it came from. but it's upstairs.
me: mom. why do you not know? why weren't you keeping an eye out? you have to be on the lookout for one on friday too.
mom: ok. well. pin a rose on your nose.
me: i'm so glad you're not a postal worker. you would really be terrible. are you sure the package is there?
mom: yes meredith. i told you it was here.
humpf. pin a rose on your nose.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
But, this experience got me thinking. I am a fast food connoisseur. I have had a love affair with practically every fast food restaurant known to man. And like all of the great loves of my life, I have kept a list of the pros and cons of each. and i feel you deserve to hear it.
Burger King: the nuggets are tasty but the bathroom floors are always sticky.
Poppeyes: Typically in the ghetto and the biscuits really aren’t that great. I don't care what anyone says.
Arby’s: while it is a pirate’s favorite restaurant, I once found a hair in my pre-packaged food. If you go here, you should probably stick to the roast beef sandwich with Arby’s sauce and the curly fries. They are delicious. But remember, I did find a hair in my pre-packaged food there once.
Chick Fil A – Christian or not, their prices are jacked and they like to fry chicken in old oil too long. It is important to note however that if the chicken hasn’t been in the fryer too long, then it is the best biscuit you can find.
McDonalds – absolutely nothing bad to say (unless they tell me their milkshake machine is broken and I have to get in a verbal altercation with the worker and tell them that in fact, their machine is not broken. They just don’t want to clean it.). I read an article yesterday that they are putting $5 billion into upfitting their restaurants (what bad economy?) It may or may not be my dream to own a McDonald’s franchise.
Taco Bell – many call it Taco Hell but I call it Taco Fabulous. Nothing makes Mountain Dew taste better than a taco from the Taco Fabulous.
KFC – the mac and cheese could use some work but those mashed potatoes are amazing. And delicious.
Bojangles – I’m pretty sure they put prune juice in their sweet tea (not a problem) and their fries are nothing short of delicious. But you must be wary. The Bo is only good in certain places. Florida doesn’t count.
Wendy’s: I won’t eat much from here but a baked potato with two butters, two sour creams, chives and a side of mini frosty really hits the spot.
In-N-Out Burger: good thing we don’t have them here on the East Coast because I would hit that more than Paris Hilton does drugs. There is a reason why she just had to have an In-N-Out here people.
Hardees – the American dream when it comes to fast food burgers. They beat McDonalds any day but it’s a completely different taste so you really can’t compare them.
as a side note, did you know the formal definition of a connoisseur is "a person who is especially competent to pass critical judgments..." yep. that about sums me up.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
At the end, the teacher asked me to dance so I could practice my moves. I told him I'd had enough boxing and was ready to be twirled. He reminded me that yes, the Waltz is the Disney princess dance but if those cartoons had been real women, they too would have had to learn to Waltz the good old fashioned way. And then, all of my dancing dreams came true when he decided I had had enough practice and...drum roll please...HE TWIRLED ME!! And I felt exactly like Beauty and the Beast. It was exhilirating! I loved it! It was like my very own Dancing With the Stars and I was Bristol and he was Max and even Bruno thought we were a perfect 10. And then, just like that, our dance was over. And I fell in a heap to the ground, exhausted. Even now, I.am.exhausted. it is true the Waltz is just a box step but holy crap. It's like a box covered in packing tape that you just cannot get open for the life of you. This dude, back in the 1700's described the ladies of Vienna as graceful in their Waltzing. Perhaps I need to go to Vienna and wear a corset. Because I'm pretty sure I wasn't graceful.
They say it takes two to tango. But it takes a winner to waltz. Booyah. Take that, England. oh but wait...it takes two to tango you say? ooo lah lah. i'll take two swiveling hips, please.
Monday, December 13, 2010
'Twas da night befo' Christmas & all in the hood,
Not a homie was stirring cuz it was all good;
The tube socks was hung on the window sill
And we all had smiles up on our grill.
Mookie and BeBe was snug in the crib -
In the back bedroom, cuz that's how we live.
And Mom’s in her do-rag and me with my nine,
Had just gotten busy cuz girlfriend is fine.
All of a sudden a lowrider rolled by,
Bumpin' phat beats cuz the system's fly;
I bounced to the window at a quarter pas' '
Bout ready to pop a cap in somebody's ass!
Well anyway.... I yelled to my lady, Yo peep this!
She said, “Stop frontin' & just mind yo' bidness.”
I said, for real doe, “come check dis out,”
We weren't even buggin', no worries, no doubt.
Cuz bumpin' an thumpin' from around da way
Was Santa, 8 reindeer and a sleigh;
Da beats was kickin', da ride was phat,
I said, "Yo red Dawg, you all that!"
He threw up a sign and yelled to his boyz,
"Ay yo, give it up, let's make some noise!"
To the top of the projects & across the strip mall,
We gots ta go, I got a booty call!"
He pulled up his ride on the top a da roof,
And sippin' on a 40, he busted a move;
I yelled up to Santa, "Yo ain't got no stack!"
He said, "Damn homie, deese projects is wack!”
“But don't worry black, cuz I gots da skillz -
I learnt back when I hadda pay da billz."
Out from his bag he pulled 3 small tings
A credit card, a knife, and a bobby pin.
He slid down the fire escape smoove as a cat,
And busted the window wit' a b-ball bat.
I said, "Whassup, Santa? Whyd’ya bust my place?"
He said, "You best get on up out my face!"
His threads was all leatha, his chains was all gold,
His sneaks was Puma and they was 5 years old;
He dropped down the duffle, Bull’s logo on the side.
Santa broke out da loot and my mouf popped open wide.
A wink of his eye and a shine off his gold toof,
He cabbage patched his way back onto the roof;
He jumped in his hooptie wit' rims made of chrome,
To tap that big booty waitin' at home.
And all I heard as he cruised outta sight,
Was a loud and hearty..... "WEEESST SIIIIDE!!!!!!!"
But first, it's important to note that I am usually always in a good mood. My disposition is never far from sunny. My class ring from college is a black onyx and it’s actually become hilarious how many times people have mistaken it for a mood ring. I mean, how could it be black if I’m always jolly? And besides, who even wears a mood ring anymore?
1. Pete. Pete will make anyone’s day 9x brighter and cheerful. Especially when he follows you into the bathroom and watches you undress. Who doesn’t want a handsome Peteing Tom to oogle them while nekkid?
2. A pastry. I brought a cute boy a giant éclair from a local bakery one morning. He told me if I kept feeding him this way, he wasn’t going to live to see 85. I told him when he was 85, he would look back on his life and wish he had enjoyed pastry treats more often in his life. I believe in dessert. And I believe in enjoying it any time you see fit.
3. A daily dose of www.textsfromlastnight.com. It’s blocked at my office, but I’m looking into the availability of an iphone app (man I feel cool saying I have an iphone).
4. A shimmy. If something makes me happy, I shimmy. If I don’t have a reason to shimmy, I shimmy anyway.
5. Pirate Jokes. These are guaranteed to put even the meanest of souls in a better mood. Instantly.
6. Justin Bieber. This morning, a dear friend sent me an interactive Christmas greeting, complete with a portrait of Justin Bieber halfway through the message. Instant good mood accomplished. True story.
7. A lifetime movie. Seriously. Feeling badly about your life? Watch one of these bad boys and you’ll feel better about yours. Instantly.
8. A feather boa. I’m not sure why but I really like them. Much like jingle bells, they are hard to resist.
9. Surprise leftovers from a meeting down the hall. Since I’m usually in a bad mood because I’m hungry, leftovers instantly bring up the morale of the entire department.
10. An email from my boss that says “hey, why don’t you take the rest of the week off?” I mean, this has never happened but I’m pretty sure it would make my mood even greater.
my horoscope lied to me. it told me I was going to have a romantic weekend. I did not.
Friday, December 10, 2010
a. Mistletoe. Who doesn’t love mistletoe?! It’s romantic in every form. Did you know the name Mistletoe was originally applied to a poisonous plant that causes gastrointestinal problems including stomach pain and diarrhea…but, you should not have fear because Mistletoe is seen as a representation of “divine male essence” (ie romance and fertility), thereby making it a necessity for all Christmas miracles. I really was speaking the truth when I hollered the other day at work that it really is a man’s world after all (and a small world at that but I won’t say anymore because this conversation could quickly get out of hand). Next time I’m standing under the mistletoe, when my Christmas miracle goes in for the kiss, I will be sure to say no thank you sir and warn him of the serious implications mistletoe could cause to his body, and mine.
c. Christmas Frog. Speaking of ugly…I know all you haters find my Christmas frog atrocious. My brother and I had a big ole fight the minute he found out I was storing this beauty in a box at his house (background is that when I moved back in with my parents, he stored a lot of things on my behalf at his house, including my Christmas Frog). I first laid eyes upon her the same time I discovered my Victorian Christmas Angels. I had to have her. I mean, I completely fell in love with her glass head, her velvet cloak. She is a bit wounded with a crack in her right brow, but she has a nice home now and frankly, it’s not Christmas to me without my Christmas frog. She is always the first decoration I put up, and the last I take down. She stands watch over my snow babies throughout the Christmas holiday. Pete hates her. Everyone hates her. But as Jason Mraz says, there is beauty in the ugly.
e. An awesome Christmas sweater. I have only been into seasonal sweaters for about 3 years now but man, I don’t know how I survived my Christmases past without one! These bad boys go for good money on the internet and I can see why. This one, that I call The Winner (for the many awards it has won) comes complete with a Christmas chicken, tassels and a fuzzy gold jingle bell. Don’t be mistaken – while The Winner appears to be cozy and smart, it is in fact, not a good idea to wear often. The fuzzy jingle bell causes a lot of pain as you take the sweater off over your head. It leaves behind remnants of itself in the form of a gash down your forehead for all the world to see. Over the years, I’ve become more accustomed to the weird stares and responses I get when I tell people why I have such an unsightly gash upon my head. This year I have a dilemma though. I have a new Christmas sweater that lights up. The Winner may need to rest its weary bell because my light up sweater is aching to be plugged in! (and yes, that is what she said).
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Monday, October 18, 2010
you will pay for your own drink specials.
I know I’ve got a lot of ‘splainin to do about my absence…but spare me the harpin’. I have a long list of less than men to tell you about, but Friday’s experience may take the cake in the world of dbags. Wait, I’ve said that before. so, if I’m being honest, and I am, this one doesn’t really take the cake but it is DEFINITELY a slice out of the old tool shed. Where they stop, no one knows.
I had been introduced to this kid whom I affectionately dubbed Drink Specials. This is a name he brought on himself because the first two attempts he made to hang out with me included meeting up at particular places “with great drink specials.” Friday night, I agreed to meet him out at Mellow Mushroom. He suggested dinner and though I don’t love Mellow, since he had been persistent, and was cute, I decided to go. Only, I probably should have decided not to go. We’re having dinner and he asks to be reminded of where I work. I tell him and he asks “oh, do you know Sara blah blah blah.” “well,” I reply, “I don’t know her but I know of her. I dated her ex.” He says “ohhhh you dated him??? Well, we grew up together and my roommate dated her.” So, I realize what a fantastic night this is going to be since if he grew up with her, and she dated his roommate, then they’re probably as crazy as her reputation makes her out to be. Approximately 20 minutes after we sit down FOR THE DINNER HE INVITED ME TO, his friends show up. Yes, 4 or 5 of them at this point show up, come say hey, we didn’t know you’d be here and then leave to go to the bar…while telling me he is so sorry, he didn’t know they would be there (right), they start sending shots over. After shot 2, but before 3 and 4 arrived, I confessed I wasn’t going to be able to do anymore shots. I mean, it was only 9p and these guys were apparently going balls to the wall at the Mellow Mushroom. About this time, I start feeling semi badly – granted, I had only had to eat that day 1 large mashed potato and gravy, 1 large mac and cheese and 1 biscuit from the KFC, two glasses of wine, 1 pizza from the Mushroom and 2 shots. It’s no wonder I felt like 1 million bucks. The waitress comes and I blame her for what happens next. She asks, as most waitresses do but should not, how did we want the ticket. Clearly the tightwad, Drink Specials tells her she can put it on one ticket and WE WILL SPLIT IT! um, excuse me? if I am paying for my own dinner, I don’t want to do it at the Mellow Mushroom! I don’t even love that place! After dinner, we move over to the bar to hang out with his homies who are clearly WAITING on us to come. I tell him his friends all look familiar and then I realize why. At the epicenter of his friend group was my across the hall neighbor. The same neighbor who had an uber white trashy fight with his live in girlfriend at 6a that resulted in her moving out ON THE SPOT and the entire building be awakened. The same neighbor who hosts porch parties every weekend that begin at sun up and end well after sun down. Every single one of these guys has been on the porch on more than one occasion and every single one of them has spoken to me through the screen (I oft times sit on my porch and talk to my cat whilst in my pajamas and glasses). After a funny hey this is awkward, I didn’t know you ever left the porch convo in which all the guys said to me at different times “hey, you’re the girl with the cat!”, I had to race to the bathroom where I spent the next 35 minutes hating my own guts. I received two txts from Drink Specials asking where I was. I returned, everyone was wasted, and I knew it was time for me to go home. At 11 o’clock, I left the Mellow Mushroom. All I could think about was how excited I was to be putting on my pajamas and hanging out with my cat. I was exactly the girl they thought me to be. And that is a-ok with me. And Drink Specials? Well, let’s just say he’s back in the shed, right where he belongs.
Monday, December 6, 2010
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
There were other nuggets of forbidden fruit on the tv. So many in fact it's a wonder we had a tube at all. Granted, we never really had cable - my roommates always felt like if we were bored, we'd be better suited to read a book. But when we were allowed to watch tv (and this never happened without first having to run around the house 3 or 4 times), we certainly weren't allowed to watch what the other kids were watching.
Take Full House for instance. Danny Tanner had nothing on my mama's parenting skills. I'm actually surprised the reason we weren't allowed to watch it had nothing to do with the fact that it was a little strange that Uncle Joey and Uncle Jesse had absolutely no problem living with a single dad and his 3 daughters (and let's not forget weirdo Kimmy Gibbler next door who never seemed to have parents at all). Nope. The reason we weren't allowed to watch this family show is because all three of the daughters were "extremely sassy." My mom didn't want us growing up thinking that was an acceptable way to be. Sooo, while I understand the intent, guess who doesn't have three sassy children. It's definitely not my mom so you probably shouldn't waste your guess on her.
Another show that was forbidden was Hey Dude on Nickelodeon. That is, when we actually had Nickelodeon. If you remember, this was a show about a group of people who lived on a dude ranch, one of them being Ben Stiller's future wife, Marsha Marsha Marsha. Wait, now that I think about it, it was sort of like a commune so maybe that's why we weren't allowed to watch it. Everyone knows people who live in communes are weird with a capital w. (but that kid Ted on the show? no way he was weird. he was too smokin' hot to be weird). Everyone at this dude ranch was really smart, so smart that they knew more than any of the adults who ran the dude ranch. And because of this, we weren't allowed to watch it. Another factoid everyone knows is that no way do kids know more than their parents. Good thing mom didn't let us watch Hey Dude. Otherwise we three might be even more convinced we know more than our parents. The only thing that would make it worse would be if we all lived on a commune. A bunch of know it alls packed into a commune. Yeah, this was a good choice to be forbidden fruit, I'd say.
I have never seen an episode of The Simpsons. Whenever I try to watch That 70's Show while at my roommates' house, one roommate in particular will come into the room and if she can't find the remote to turn it off, she will stand in front of it and talk to you so you have no idea what is happening. Only, the last time I told her I couldn't see what was happening, she told me "they're sitting in a circle, smoking pot and making fun of their parents. You don't need to watch it. That isn't a good way to be." I'm just trying to figure out how she knows what they are doing every single time it comes on tv.
Sometimes, a show won't be forbidden, but you're guaranteed to get some Life Lessons while watching it, so it would probably be better if it were just on the forbidden list. The life lessons usually pertain to sex and that can just get weird depending on who is in the room with you when your parents start doling out sex life lessons all because of some rando show that happens to be on the tube. Basically, I don't recommend watching Jerry Springer. Ever. Why it was never on the forbidden fruit list, we'll never know. Probably because it was the perfect opportunity for my roommates to give us life lessons. So, on that note, I hope my mom isn't reading this. Otherwise she'll know I'm watching Indecent Proposal tomorrow night. And if there is one thing I know at age 28, is that I am never too far away for life lessons for the boob tube.